Chapter 8 December 8th #4
“Fancy seeing you here,” I reply coolly, spotting and loving the minuscule tilt of his mouth at the corner as he takes a sip of his drink. His gorgeous grey eyes keep me rooted to the spot.
“I noticed a certain dashing Edward Holcot sniffed you out.”
I look over my shoulder, seeing the harem of women are all back around him like flies around shit. “He’s a charmer.”
“Be careful with him, Camryn,” Dec warns lightly, bringing my interested eyes back to him.
“Jealous?”
“Wildly,” he answers, unabashed. “Were you going somewhere?”
“I was just escaping to the ladies’.”
“Escaping?”
“He’s not my cup of tea.”
“What’s your cup of tea?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
His heavy brow smooths out as his eyebrows lift. “Me.”
I hum, taking a sip of my drink.
“Do you still want to escape?”
I shake my head, saying all the things without saying them. No. No, I don’t. Not now you’re here.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m taking that as a resounding yes.” Dec nods toward the bar, and we both wander through the crowds to the quieter side. “Two dirty martinis, please.”
“Only champagne and beer are included in the open bar, sir.”
“I’ll pay.” He pushes his card across and faces me, making no bones about drinking me in, up and down. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
He nods mildly, thoughtfully as he reaches for my cheek, stopping himself before he feels at it. Checking my cut, that’s got more concealer on it than I’ve used all year. “How’s it been for you?”
“This evening?” I ask, and he nods. “I could think of better places to be.” Like in a hotel bar, any hotel bar, with Dec sitting next to me talking about everything but nothing, being silent from time to time. Nearly kissing me again. “My boss roped me in. It’s been challenging.”
“How so?”
“I had a call with the company accountant today. It’s all a bit of a mess, and in truth, I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“What’s the problem?”
“My boss is shit with money.”
“It’s your job to handle the finances.”
“Tell him that,” I quip, virtually smelling the martinis as the waiter pushes them toward us.
Dec picks one up, takes my elderflower drink, and replaces it with my favourite. “Drink up.”
I reach for the other on the bar and hand it to him, and he shows his amusement as he takes it, holding his glass toward me. “What are we drinking to?” I ask.
Tapping his glass with mine, he comes close to my face, his mouth at my ear.
“I’ll tell you later,” he whispers. It feels as if a missile could have hit me in the chest, the force of my exhale audible, as the warmth of his breath creeps across my skin.
“Don’t leave without me.” A light squeeze of my wrist before he wanders away, leaving me a shaky wreck, my drink jumping up the side of my glass.
It’s not long before I lose him in the crowds, and the loss hits me deep.
Don’t leave without me.
Liquor hits my fingers, trickling down to my wrist, and I dip to lick it up but stop myself.
No. Placing the untouched martini on the bar and grabbing a napkin to wipe my hands, I start weaving through the room, heading for the ladies’.
“Excuse me,” I mutter constantly, turning from side to side to squeeze through various crowds of people.
“Pardon me.” I’m taking fairy steps in my heels, unable to walk with any pace.
“Exc—” I stop dead in my very slow tracks when I literally bump into Thomas.
“Camryn,” he says, looking all kinds of awkward.
“What?”
“You’re leaving?”
“No, I need the ladies’. But I’m already over my promised time, Thomas. Is there anyone else you want me to bullshit before I leave?”
Laughter erupts from him, sending his body bending back. “Yes, yes, ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m very all right.” He clears his throat. “Camryn, this is Dec Ellis.”
My heart feels like it grinds to a stop in my chest as I cast my eyes to the left. And I stare at him. Just stare at him, as he stares at me, a drop of his martini left in the glass. “Camryn,” he says, his voice doing all its usual things to me, his hand extending. “What a pleasure.”
Ha. Ha.
So we don’t know each other? Right. Okay.
With slightly narrowed eyes, I put my hand in his, certain it’s not a good idea.
And it’s not. Merely his skin on mine sets off tiny explosions across my body.
It takes everything in me and more to keep myself steady and poised in front of my boss.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Something scarily similar to a sickly-sweet smile breaks my pursed mouth without instruction, and a cocky one definitely ghosts Dec’s.
“It will be,” he mouths, tightening his hold. Fuck. My composure is slipping. Can’t have that. I tighten my hand too.
“How’s the handshake?” Dec asks, pouting his lips over the rim of his glass as he finishes the last drop.
“Pretty pathetic for a businessman.”
“Ha-ha-ha!” Thomas blurts, holding his belly. “I told you she’s a firecracker.”
“You’ve been talking about me?”
“Were your ears burning?” Dec raises his brows. No, Dec. Not my ears. Just the rest of my body.
I’m acutely aware that to these two men, I am two vastly different women.
Dec’s seen moments of vulnerability, a woman who’s conflicted and at odds with her past and future.
He’s seen the cracks. Thomas has only ever encountered me at work, where I show no fear or hesitancy, where I command and dictate. Where I am cold and hard-nosed.
Interest is a storm in Dec’s eyes. How long will he hold back the questions written all over his magnificent face?
“Care to catch me up?” I ask, tearing my gaze off Dec and my hand from his before Thomas notices our .
. . what? Connection? The electricity subtly sizzling between us?
The fact I’m wobbling slightly on my heels?
All of these reactions to Dec Ellis have taken me by surprise to say the least.
Thomas snorts, flapping a hand flippantly. “Just friendly chitchat.”
“Friendly chitchat,” Dec confirms quietly, almost tiredly.
“Oh look, dinner’s up.” Thomas points toward the ballroom as he heads that way, the crowds starting to bottleneck there. I hadn’t even noticed everyone had moved from around us, giving me air. Because with Dec around, breathing is hard, whether I’m stifled or not.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, moving into my side.
I look up at him, this fine form of a man, and not for the first time I ask myself . . . why me? My heart’s beating so hard, there’s no mistaking that I’m alive. I sometimes wonder. If I’m really alive or not, I wonder that. Only the grief confirms I am.
Cruel.
“Yes,” I breathe. “I do.”
“Let’s go.” Dropping his glass on a passing waiter’s tray, Dec places his hand on the small of my back and guides me toward the exit. “Do you have a coat?”
“No.”
“Really? It’s five degrees out there, Camryn.” He stops at the cloakroom and hands over a ticket, and a moment later he’s covering my shoulders with a black wool overcoat. “I have a feeling you’re going to suggest walking home,” he says on an unimpressed mutter.
“I like walking with you.”
“I like walking with you too.” He holds his hand out to me. “I don’t want you to shake it this time.”
I place my hand in his and let him lead me out of The Dorchester, then we start the long walk home that’s going to feel much shorter than it is.
The silence is comfortable, as it is more often than not, but I hear the endless questions swirling in that mind of his. Which will he lead with, if any?
We’re at Euston Road before Dec finally breaks the silence. “Your boss’s description of you is contradictory to who I know.”
“Maybe you don’t know me.”
“We both know it’s your boss who doesn’t know you.”
I nod mildly, as if in agreement. “My boss knows the career woman I used to be. You know the woman I am now.” I look up at him, relying on him to ensure I don’t bump into anything or anyone, my steps now blind.
And that’s something else I appreciate about Dec.
Feeling safe. “Tell me what we were drinking to,” I order gently, feeling my body pushing closer into his side.
He smiles mildly as he looks ahead. “Our first kiss.”
“We haven’t had a first kiss.”
At that very second, he stops us and turns into me, taking my cheeks in his palms gently and scanning my face.
Hope is a vise on my sensibility, squeezing it until it finally pops and I’m mentally begging him to kiss me.
His jacket falls from my shoulders to the pavement when I reach up to his wrists, clinging to them.
“It’s time to fix that,” he murmurs, his mouth slowly falling onto mine.
His tongue sweeps my bottom lip, gently encouraging me to open up to him, and my world is suddenly lighter, the black cloud that shadows me constantly lifting a fraction to allow the sun to shine on me.
My tongue meets his, warm, lax, and slippery, and follows his pace without much thought at all.
To not think feels like a blessing I don’t deserve.
My hands slip from his wrists to his strong shoulders, my body pressing closer to him.
It’s a slow, peaceful duel, and my entire existence is consumed in this moment.
It will take me forever to get over this kiss, which is fine because I don’t want to ever get over it.
Here, now, will be imprinted on my heart forevermore, no matter what happens between us.
It’s something I’m thinking about more and more, and to think about it is to worry about it. What is happening between us?
His hands move to my hair, his fingers weaving through the strands, his mouth trailing from one side of mine to the other, giving me brief moments of anticipation before he resumes his mind-spinning assault of my mouth. Feathery soft. Purposely slow. A submissive whimpers ripple through my body.