Chapter 39 If Settling Looked Like This
Warmth rises in my chest when I wake to a white rose beside me, a note in Issac’s scroll.
I’d like it if you drooled on my pillows forever. 3
I laugh out loud and lift the rose to my nose. Am I crazy to agree to this? Spending a weekend with no faking might mean smiling with my whole guarded, sometimes hopeful heart. I sigh while dragging myself out of bed, eyes flicking around the room to find my pearl clips gone from the dresser.
After taking my pills, brushing my teeth, and misting Franklin’s shell, I slip a shirt and some shorts on to search for Issac. Soft music plays from the room farthest down the hall, making him easy to find, but the door is locked. I knock on it, and he tells me he’ll be out in a minute.
“You’re always so secretive with your art,” I say.
“You’re always secretive with what’s in your heart,” he calls back.
I lean against the wall. Even fake dating turned real for a weekend won’t change that.
He shuts off the music, and I hear him shuffling through the room.
“Funny how you said you weren’t going anywhere, yet I woke up without you,” I tease.
“I’m sorry, Ni. The amazing sex had me feeling inspired,” he says.
I’m glad he can’t see how hard I’m grinning. “What are you doing in there with my pearl clips? Since they’re mine, I think I’m entitled to see whatever you’re using them for.”
He slips out the door, purposely blocking my view of the room before he shuts it. “You’ll see eventually.”
“You say that a lot,” I complain. “Starting to think you’re pacifying me like a child.”
He rolls his eyes, then bends to capture my lips. I try not to be embarrassed at the way I sigh into his mouth. It’s soft and sensual, and butterflies spread through my stomach. Whatever doubt I had fades away when he curls his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. I made a deal, and I’m going to enjoy this man until I go home.
There’s a frustratingly beautiful smile on his face when he breaks the kiss. “Morning, babe.”
The casual use of the word makes me want to dance, sing, squeal like a girl. “Morning, big head,” I say back.
“That nickname is a double entendre now, huh?” he says, and tugs on a strand of my hair.
“You’re so conceited,” I snort.
He slaps my ass. “And you should be too.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I twist his nipple through his shirt, he tickles my armpit until I cry in defeat. When it’s over and my pride is wounded, he scoops me from the floor, carries me the way he did in my dream. I protest when he passes the bedroom, but he says, “I’d love to spend all day laid up in your hair, ravishing your pussy, but you should be taken care of in more ways than one. First, food.”
“I am more hungry than horny,” I admit.
“Of course you are.”
“And you love it.”
“Of course I do,” he says, and I turn to kiss his collarbone.
There’s a chef putting finishing touches on beautifully arranged breakfast plates when we make it into the kitchen. When did he get here? He gives us a delighted smile, surely seeing the pink in my cheeks at being held like a newlywed.
“Good morning.” I say. “The kitchen smells amazing.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thompson. Please let me know if you need anything else,” he says, then exits the kitchen.
Issac sets me down in front of the chair, pretending his back is aching from carrying me the whole way, and tries to bite my finger after I shove it into his dimple.
“Cannibal,” I accuse.
“Only for you,” he says. We sit down and he smiles. “Marco makes the best eggs I’ve ever tasted. Bougie eggs. I mean, the good kind of bougie that means he doesn’t take any full-time clients because he’s too busy. I’m lucky he came out here on short notice this morning.”
“We could’ve gone to that breakfast spot we ordered from the last time I was here,” I say. Marco’s food is plated like a magazine, making the eggs, French toast, and corned beef hash look fancy. But it’s breakfast food I can get anywhere. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Issac sits across from me. “Take a bite before you talk shit.”
“Just saying, you know you never have to spend money like this on me.”
He picks up his fork and fixes me with a look. “Take a damn bite, Ni.”
“We aren’t in the bed; you don’t get to tell me what…” He scoops eggs off his plate and shuts me up with them. As soon as the food on his fork enters my mouth, I hum unexpectedly. He nods. That annoying smirk on his face. I try to pretend I’m not savoring the eggs before swallowing them. “You get under my skin.”
He wiggles his brows. “How does it feel?”
“Like an unscratchable itch. Ringworm from the sandpit. An ingrown toenail,” I tease.
Issac frowns. “Damn. Just a list of things that are opposite of sexy?”
I wink at him and take a bite of the corned beef hash. Issac knows it’s my favorite. He also knows I’m a harsh judge, but the hash doesn’t disappoint. Not at all.
“Alright, fine. Chef Marco must know magic,” I say, and Issac’s pleased with my assessment.
While eating, he lets me steal French toast off his plate. Maybe let is a strong word. More like he doesn’t smack my hand away when I’m reaching, even though he calls me greedy. I eat his strawberries and lick whipped cream off the fork. It feels familiar, like we’ve been most of our lives, until he reaches under the table and strokes my bare thigh beneath the shorts. He knows what he’s doing because as soon as he elicits a shiver from me, he steals his hand back and reaches for my cup of vanilla chai, taking an obnoxious sip.
When he passes the cup back, there’s nothing left. “I guess I deserve that after leaving you hungry,” I say. “What time do you work later?”
“I do have to stop by the botanical garden to speak with management about something, but I canceled my shoots,” he says. “Lied about feeling sick. Bernie wasn’t buying it, but I think he’s letting me be happy this weekend. Maybe you snuck into his bitter heart.”
“I think he snuck into mine too,” I say, remembering how he helped me with no hesitation. “But we have time for the shoots and to spend together. I like to watch you work.”
He bites his bottom lip. “I like to watch you work too. Those hips swinging when you…”
My cheeks flush. “Shhh…What if Chef Marco hears you?”
“He’s definitely heard a lot worse in celebrity kitchens. I promise I was going to keep it PG,” Issac says. “Now tell me what your beautiful heart wants on the agenda today. Maybe we can go get massages or…I can book us a private jet; we can go wherever you’d like.”
The thought of going anywhere in the world with Issac makes his new life feel large. Once upon a time, we’d try to score bus passes to get to the beach. I appreciate where we’ve come from and am proud of where we both are now. “I like this real dating thing so far,” I say.
The corners of his mouth rise. “Yeah?”
I lean across the table and kiss him in response. His lips taste like cinnamon. I could spend the day just licking them. When I pull back, he goes in for another, then one more. “Let’s stay in Cali,” I say. “I have an idea of what we can do in the evening. It’s small and silly. But until then, can we spend what little time we have left together doing simple things?”
As soon as it leaves my mouth, I wonder if I’m being boring. But then Issac says, “Nothing ever feels small or silly or even simple when I’m with you,” and there’s so much gravity in those words. Images of us grass sitting and watching sunsets and dancing on the porch come to me. I know he means it. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and start the day.”
“Will you carry me up the stairs too?”
“Only if you settle for a piggyback ride,” he says.
I do. He brings me all the way to the bathroom on his back, keeping us balanced despite me nibbling his ear and pulling his beard on repeat. We’re fun and silly, until he turns on the shower and starts to undress. I realize this is the first time we’ll be naked together in the daylight. Soft music plays on a speaker while Issac lifts the shirt over my head, slowly tugs off my shorts. We stand in the sun coming through the window and admire each other with sighs and soft touches before Issac pulls me under the hot water. I let him lather every inch of my body, moan out loud when his fingers graze the sensitive skin around my nipples. He turns me around to wash my hair, softly scratching my scalp with his nails until my eyes roll back. He conditions then detangles my hair carefully with a comb. He kneads my shoulders with his knuckles to release some tension there, then moves lower, massaging down my back, pressing me into the tile while he works the muscles in my ass.
Is this really what I’ve been missing? No one has ever cared for me like this.
I chew my lip as he cups the backs of my thighs, putting pressure there before wrapping an arm around my stomach. I can feel how hard he is against me, but he doesn’t try for sex, just stands under the steam with me until the water starts to cool.