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I give him a curious look. “You don’t strike me as trust fund babies.”
“That’s because our father taught us the value of a strong work ethic from a young age, just like our grandfather before him,” Isaac says.
“Ah, so the silver spoon had a bit of vinegar in it.”
He laughs again, but his gaze lingers on me for longer. It makes my skin tingle everywhere, yet I can’t look away, either. His eyes search my face, and for the briefest of moments, I have the audacity to imagine him leaning in for a kiss. What would that be like? How insane would it be? It certainly sounds insane. But his lips part, and I lick mine without a hint of self-control.
“You’re a very intelligent woman,” Isaac says. “Don’t think I didn’t read your resume properly. I know the college you went to. It may not be Ivy League, but those are brilliant folks you studied under, Stella. And I can tell just from the way you talk and carry yourself that you’re not meant to be a maid for much longer.”
“My ambitions and my life choices haven’t always been in sync,” I admit with a deep sigh.
“That’s alright. You got your share of lemons, but it's time for you to learn how to make a wicked lemonade.”
I’m not sure what it means coming from him. However, the words empower me in ways I’d forgotten I could be empowered. The road ahead may seem crowded, but it’s riddled with opportunities, not just boots aiming for my teeth. Life may have been hard on me, but it’s far from over. Right now, I’ve been given a chance to do better, to provide just enough comfort and peace for myself and my children so that I can actually see those opportunities ahead.
“Are you okay?” Isaac asks.
“Yeah, just a lot of thoughts swirling in my head. It’s been a long day.”
“And it’s barely noon,” he chuckles.
By the time we reach the apartment building in Scarborough, Isaac and I are surprisingly more comfortable with one another. He is generally warm and relaxed, making it easier for those around him to loosen up and mirror his demeanor, but his effect on me feels somewhat more amplified. He calms and soothes me just by being close to me, by listening without cutting in, and by offering his viewpoints without expectations or a particular design.
“How long have you been staying here?” he asks, turning the car engine off.
“Couple of months. I couldn’t afford our old place anymore after my divorce, and my mom said she could use the company. Obviously, that was just a fad, a momentary void she needed to fill. She’s dating again, so, you know, the kids and I are a nuisance.”
“I’m sorry to hear you’re not getting the support you need.”
“It’s not like I asked her, you know? She offered to help. Theo could’ve handed her lease over to me before she moved to Los Angeles. She was even willing to cover my rent for a couple of months until I pulled myself together. But I trusted my mother. Plus, I didn’t need to pay for a babysitter here, so it made sense at the time.”
Isaac shakes his head slowly. “It’s fine, Stella. You didn’t do anything wrong. Honestly, the more I learn about you, the more intrigued I become.”
“Huh?” I give him a curious look, which makes him smile.
“Despite the baggage you’ve got, you still laugh, you still fight, you keep your head up high, and you wade through the muddy waters. The strength you carry yourself with… it’s inspiring.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s also remarkably appealing,” Isaac adds, looking at me.
The air between us shifts into something loaded with the kind of energy that causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. It’s so thick, I can barely breathe. The blue pools of his eyes darken as I hold his gaze and refuse to look away. I don’t know what’s giving me this kind of courage, but I can’t hold back, either. It’s just the two of us in his car. The rest of the world has basically disappeared. There’s nothing and no one that can break this moment. I don’t want it to end.
“Isaac, I...” My words dissolve as he leans in and kisses me.
A whirlwind of colors explodes in the back of my head, the heat spreading through my body as my core is instantly ignited. It’s short but devastating as every muscle I have tautens with delicious tension. I moan softly against his lips.
“I’m sorry.” Isaac pulls back, his breathing ragged.
“No apology needed,” I hear myself say as I pull him back so we can continue what he started.
His tongue slips through, and the kiss deepens into something spicy and ravenous. His hand finds my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. I melt and fuse with this man. My heart is tumbling all over the place. My panties are soaking wet, and I need more, so much more. Isaac reads my reaction and brings his hand up my side until his thumb moves over my breast. The bra cup is soft but not thick enough to deprive me of the sensation of his touch.
We devour one another in a second of sheer madness, and neither wishes to stop.
Whatever this is, we both want it.
But the honk of a passing pick-up truck has us both drawing back into our seats and trying to catch our breath. A minute flows in pressing silence, though it’s not the awkward kind, but rather the moment we need in order to gather our thoughts and senses. Mine are scattered everywhere, so I need a tad longer to recover.
