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When they separated, he leaned back slightly and they stared at each other, but neither spoke a word. She settled back in the chair, once again curling her legs underneath her. After taking a steadying breath, he picked up his guitar, then cleared his throat.
“Um, this is one of my favorite songs. It’s just instrumental. No lyrics.” He didn’t tell her it was a love song written by the artist for his wife.
Her eyes drifted closed as he played, and he felt a surge of warmth. She was so appealing, curled up in the chair and wearing his sweatshirt, her hair shining in the moonlight. He finished the song, and when she didn’t open her eyes right away, he rose and rested his hands on the arms of her chair. She finally opened her eyes and lifted her face, and he kissed her once again. After a moment she slowly pulled away from him, and he reached for her hands and helped her stand.
Neither spoke as they made their way back to the house hand in hand, and after he put away his guitar, he walked her out to her car.
She leaned back against it and stared up at him. “Thank you for dinner. It was nice.”
She laughed then and shook her head, and he looked at her questioningly.
“Sorry. That wassuchan understatement.” She grew serious. “The whole night was perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed it too.”
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She swayed into him, deepening the kiss, and he eagerly followed her lead. Her lips were soft and sweet, and he weaved his hands into her hair as he kissed her over and over.
When they finally broke apart, he lowered his forehead to hers and tried to slow his pounding heart.
“By the way...I'm keeping the sweatshirt,” she said, her voice rough. “It smells like you.”
“I hope that's a good thing.”
“It's a very good thing.”
With one last kiss, she climbed into her Jeep.
“Will you text me to let me know you made it home?” he asked.
“Sure. Good night, Will.”
“Good night, Elizabeth.”
When her Jeep disappeared from sight, he went back into the house, grabbed his guitar and his cell phone, and went to sit on the deck. He stared out at the water, mindlessly playing different songs while he waited to hear from her.
He was thrilled at the turn of events. The thought of spending more time with her and getting to know her… Itexcitedhim. He felt like he was about to embark on a very important journey.
But how can I feel this way already?
He had no concrete answer; it was just intuition, a gut feeling, but it was something he was remarkably sure of.
His past relationships had been few and far between and felt more like business arrangements. He’d always liked the women well enough—he would never be with someone he didn’t like or respect—but he was never foolish enough to believe their interests went beyond his name and his wallet. Most of the time it was enough; it meant having someone to take to the dreaded social engagements, and having a warm body in his bed when he wanted one. He didn’t share much more than that with any of them, and thankfully, they returned the favor.
Looking on it now, it all seemed so crass and cheap. He wanted more, but the thought of letting his heart and his feelings guide him… He’d never done it before, had never trusted anyone enough to let himself be vulnerable, and it scared the hell out of him.
He took a deep breath, trying not to get too far ahead of himself, and his cell phone chirped with a text message.
Home safe and sound
He smiled.Glad to hear it. Thanks for indulging me
My pleasure. Miss me yet?
He laughed.Yes. What time will you be home from work tomorrow?
4:30ish
Can I call you?
Sure
He smiled.Talk to you then. Sweet dreams
You too. Good night
He grinned as he walked back into the house.Sweet dreams indeed.
