8. Audrina
8
AUDRINA
West gives me the grand tour of his apartment, which doesn’t take long because it’s tiny. It is neat, however, and while it isn’t new, it’s been freshly painted, and there are new appliances in the kitchen. There’s a kitchen counter that overlooks a small but cozy couch and a huge TV; there’s even a balcony with a little table and the bustling street down below. You can’t hear anything from up here, though, and when West waved a hand over his bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel the electricity run through me at the sight of his bed.
Freshly made with gunmetal gray-colored sheets and a patterned comforter. There’s also a small bathroom with a shower bath, and that’s all been newly tiled. I suspect West may have done some of the things himself because I know how handy he is.
“It smells amazing in here,” I tell him. “What’s for dinner?”
He stands behind the counter as I sit at one of the stools, placing my bag down on the stool next to me. “Freshly baked salmon with lemon pilaf and crispy, skillet-fried potatoes.”
“Goodness, you went all out.”
“Tried and true recipe, and it’ll go well with the wine.” He nods toward the ice bucket in the centre of the little round table between us and the living room. “Would you like a glass?”
“Please,” I say. “I am driving, so just half a glass.”
I watch as he walks toward the table, and my eyes scan his body, landing on his butt as he walks. He’s kicked his boots off and pads barefoot across the room. I press my thighs together when I think about our interlude yesterday at Faux Paws when he had my finger in his mouth and he muttered those filthy things to me. Things I haven’t been able to get out of my head. If he knew what I did to myself with my rose vibrator last night, he’d be shocked.
My insides throb when I imagine what he could do to me.
When he comes back, he hands me a clear box with a rose inside, and I almost choke on my own spit. “You already sent me a dozen roses,” I say. “Asher and Star peppered me with a million questions about a secret admirer.”
He grins. “Not so secret, I don’t think. This is what we used to do when we went out on a date.” He takes the rose out of the little box, and it’s then I realize it’s a corsage. “It’s corny, but it just goes to show how long it’s been since I had a real date.”
“You are the sweetest,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. Not just over the corsage, but because it throws my mind back to prom, which was the last time I received one.
“It’s nothin’, I just thought it would look pretty on you.” He slides it onto my wrist carefully. Our eyes meet, and I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. He smells so freaking good. His musky, sexy scent fills my senses as my lips part.
“Thank you.”
His hands hold me at the waist even though he’s still holding the wine bottle. I pull back, but we’re close. The proximity, his scent, his pretty eyes, and those tempting lips make me do something I’ve never done; I kiss him first. Reaching onto my tippy toes as he bows his head, crushing my lips against his, I feel for the first time how soft his beard is, and I also feel the rumble in his chest. He reaches behind, placing the wine on the counter, then places his hand higher on my back, his other hand still gripping my hip. The kiss is soft and sweet, and I linger there, hoping he’ll take it deeper.
“A peach, just like I thought,” he murmurs. I like his grip on me. His strong hold has me feeling it all the way down to my toes. He moves back in, kissing me this time, and a sigh leaves my throat before I can stop it.
My ass hits the kitchen counter, and my arms wrap around his neck. “You’re a good kisser,” I breathe when we break free.
“Easy when I’m kissin’ the lips of an angel.”
My hands flatten on his shoulders, and it isn’t lost on me how he towers over me. His broad shoulders are thick and muscled; he’s got a body made for indulging. “I’d better feed you because if we keep this up, we won’t even get to the entree.” As he presses his forehead to mine, his voice is husky.
I smile as he squeezes my hip, then lets me go. He looks a little shaken up as he runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, and I straighten my dress. He’s right, though. He does get me wet. I can feel my panties soaked, wanting him to touch me and undress me. Screw dinner! But I can’t say that out loud. He’s trying to be a gentleman, and we can’t have sex on the first date.
Can we? I mean, that’s not exactly screaming that I’m a good girl; then again, I haven’t exactly been a good girl all of my life, especially when I got knocked up at eighteen.
I fiddle with my corsage, examining how pretty it is with the contrast of red and white roses with green leaves against my black dress. West certainly knows how to impress.
“I’m not sure how much food you think I can eat,” I smile, noticing the cobbler sitting on top of the stove in a tin. “But I also brought you something.”
He piques an eyebrow as he pops the cork on the bottle of wine. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
I slide the foil parcel into his palm. “I didn't. I made them, but don’t come for me, I’m sure they’re nothing like the ones at Cafe Du Monde.”
I made him beignets, fluffy donut-style desserts sprinkled with powdered sugar. He unwraps them, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You baked this afternoon?”
I shrug. “I like baking; I don’t always get a lot of time, but I didn’t know what else to bring.”
“Just yourself is enough,” he tells me. Then he stuffs one of the little parcels in his mouth and groans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. “All this time I had you out front when I should have had you in the kitchen all along.”
“I’ll get a big head if you keep talking like that.”
He hands me a glass, and I take it gratefully. He pours himself one, too, and then we clink glasses.
“To new beginnings.” His whole face lights up, and it’s hard not to get lost in the moment.
It’s a beautiful sentiment, and it’s exactly how I feel. “To new beginnings,” I echo.
West serves asparagus with lemon butter for an appetizer, then he sets about spoiling me with the salmon for the main course. The thing I’m most impressed with is how he doesn’t break a sweat; then again, I’ve seen him in the kitchen plenty of times downstairs doing this very thing. Although the food is nowhere near as fancy as what he’s serving me.
The conversation flows freely as we talk about the places we’ve traveled, plus some of West’s time in the military when he serviced tanks and trucks, which I find completely fascinating. Compared to him, I’ve barely done anything. Sure, we had great family vacations, and I’ve traveled more than the average bear, but I’m not really that fascinating. Not like he is.
“When I finally found out about Xavier, or Priest as we know him, I felt like I’d been given a second chance,” he tells me.
“I’m so sorry that his mother kept that from you; it must’ve been hard to take.”
“It was, but I’m old enough now to understand that things work in mysterious ways. The important thing is we found one another, and now I was able to be the kind of father I’ve always wanted to be.”
I rest a hand on his. “Still, she shouldn’t have taken that away from you; all those years you lost can’t have been easy to take.”
“They weren't, but we have an amazing relationship.” He brushes a thumb over my knuckles. “I have nothin’ to complain about in the grand scheme of things, and now I have a grandson to spoil rotten.”
“He really is adorable, isn’t he?” I beam. “And from what Bella was telling me, I don’t think he’s going to be an only child.”
“Kids are great, aren’t they? You’re good with them.”
“I’ve been around them my whole life,” I say. “When my girlfriends, and my sister in Florida, had babies, I was like a second mom. I always wanted more kids but wasn’t able to have any.”
“I’m sorry.”
I wave a hand. “It’s alright; I made peace with it a long time ago, but I always wanted a sibling for Asher growing up. Some might say I spoiled him, but he was my entire world when my marriage was falling apart.”
He nods, giving me a small smile. “You stuck it out for his sake?”
“Yes.” I look down at my plate, not wanting to bring my ex into our first date. “I didn’t want Asher to grow up in a broken home, and don’t get me wrong, our marriage breaking down wasn’t all his fault; I played a role, too.”
His eyebrows crease together. “I find that a little hard to believe.”
I can’t help the smile on my face. “Of course you would say that.”
“No, I really mean it. Your ex-husband sounds like a real dick.”
I stifle a laugh. “He was a good father when he was home, but Asher and I spent a lot of the time just the two of us; even on vacations, he’d have excuses to get back to work.”
“Was he having an affair?”
“If he was, then all I can say is that he hid it well. I suspected it, there were just too many unexplained late nights. A part of me thinks I’m naive for not noticing, and maybe I turned a blind eye to a lot of things, but we’re not on bad terms, and he still has a relationship with Asher, even though it was strained when we got divorced.”
“He’s a good kid.”
“Yes, he is, and I’m so happy he’s settled down with Star. I don’t want to pressure them about babies, but I’m secretly hoping they’ll give us some good news soon.”
“I never told you this, but he gave me a talkin’ to when he and Star first got together about not breakin’ your heart.”
I almost drop my fork on the plate in shock, “He what?”
West chuckles. “I can’t say I blame him, I’d do the same if I were in his shoes. He clearly cares about you an awful lot.”
“Funny, he never mentioned it, I hope he wasn’t rude?”
“Well, he wasn’t backwards in goin’ forwards, and I respect that. The world is full of creeps and assholes.”
“Tell me about it.” He stares at me, one eyebrow raised. “What?”
“A birdie told me you’re on a datin’ app.”
I’m not going to lie to him, but I’ve never even been on the thing. Lace set it up for me, and I said I’d take a look, but I haven’t really had the drive to do so. Still, if it’s piqued West’s interest, then I’ll play along. “Yep.”
Silence.
“So? What did you think? Did you meet anyone on there?”
I bite my lip to save from laughing. “I don’t even know how to work that stupid app. Plus, I’m kind of old-fashioned, if you haven’t already noticed. More to the point, do you think I’d be here if I were seeing someone else?”
It could just be me, but I’m sure his nostrils flair just a little at my words. “I was a little slow at askin’ you, but you know my reasons why.”
“Yes, and I appreciate that. After being in a marriage for that long, it’s an adjustment being on my own. I’m not sure I would’ve been any use to anyone back when I first moved here,” I say.
“You need that time to find out who you are all over again. I’ve been there — maybe not a marriage per say, but life-changing situations, and it’s not easy.”
What’s easy is talking to him. I feel like I’ve known him forever, and it’s a nice feeling when you don’t have to watch what you say all the time. John used to hate me talking about anything that may stress him out more than he already was. He’d never listen to my advice about cutting down at work. I get he loved his job, but he left his family behind in the process.
“It’s definitely not easy,” I agree. “But I came out the other end. There’s light at the end of the tunnel, and that’s what got me through. Plus, I didn’t want to spend the next phase of my life going through the motions with someone.”
“That would be worse,” he says. “It’s harder to walk away, but in the long run, you’re undoubtedly a million times better off without him.”
“What about you?” I press. “Aside from our little misunderstanding yesterday, when was the last time you went out on a date?”
He opens his mouth and closes it again. “I haven’t been on a date in about thirty years.”
Okay, wrong choice of words, but can we take a second? Thirty years? I mean, things have definitely changed in all of that time, but the semantics are pretty much the same, I’m sure. I’m not exactly an expert on the subject myself.
“That’s a long time.”
“Yes, it is.”
I clear my throat, but surge on at the question burning in my veins. “When was the last time you had sex?”
Amusement gleams in his eyes, and I know I’m being bold. Blame the wine. “Almost a year ago.”
“What?” I splutter. “A year?”
He gives me a look. “Is that so hard to believe?”
I purposely dart my eyes down his body and wave a hand in circles toward him. “Kinda.”
He chuckles. “I’ll be honest with you if you’ll be honest with me?”
“Of course.”
He clears his throat. “I said some pretty dirty shit to you yesterday.”
Remembering those very words about him bending me over the bench, stealing my panties, asking me if I’m wet, and then calling me his Little Peach makes my toes curl with want. “Yes, you did.”
He smirks. “And I meant every word, but I also meant what I said; there’s no pressure. I just can’t seem to control my mouth when I’m around you, or my hands.”
I take another sip of wine for liquid courage, as well as a slow breath, before saying, “And you totally dodged the sex question.”
His tongue peeks out as he licks his bottom lip, then brushes a hand through his beard. “The night that I danced with you at Priest and Bella’s wedding?”
I pale suddenly. “Was the last night you had sex?” Panic hits me because it definitely wasn’t with me.
He laughs. “No. That was the night I knew I wanted you.”
“West, that was eleven months ago!”
“Old dog.” He shrugs. “I also knew that bedding any other woman who wasn’t you would just be a waste of time.”
The throb between my legs from his words is almost too much. I can barely breathe, and here he is telling me he hasn’t had sex with any other women since the night we danced together because he’s wanted me all this time?
“Are you being serious?”
“When it comes to sex, I don’t mess around. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to you if I kept sleeping around with women while I waited for you. To me, it felt like cheating, and I may be many things, but I’m not that.”
He didn’t just say that... he did just say that. And I really want to jump his bones right now.
“I was loyal to...” He reaches over, placing a hand over my mouth so I don’t utter my ex’s name.
He leans farther toward me, dipping his head and replacing it with a kiss. Once again I’m reminded of how good he is with that mouth. It’s quick and brief, but when we pull apart, I feel dizzy. “Would you like to watch a movie while we eat our cobbler?”
I pat my belly. “I don’t think I can fit another thing in right now, but I won’t say no to a movie. I can’t remember the last time I sat down and watched one.”
He takes my plate, a sly smile on his face. “I’ll even let you choose.”
“Thank you, that was delicious,” I say, so caught up in our conversation I forgot to thank him.
“You’re welcome. It was either that or microwave pizza.”
“You’re too modest,” I tell him, picking up the salad bowl and his empty glass. “Let me help with that.”
“No need, it can all go straight in the dishwasher. The remote is on the coffee table.”
Taking my wine in one hand as I move toward the couch, I perch on the armrest and unzip the back of my shoes. It’s a pure miracle I managed to keep them on this long.
When West joins me after switching out all the lights, his eyes dip down to my feet as I reach for the remote. “Let me guess, you’re an action movie kinda guy?”
His lips twitch. “I’m easy, I don’t mind what we watch.”
I slide through the movie channels with no clue what I’m doing and settle on Yellowstone.
“You know that’s a series.”
“Oh, oops,” I say. “I just like Kevin Costner.”
He chuckles. “I haven’t met a woman yet who doesn’t, and it just means you’ll have to come over again to watch more episodes.”
“I’d like that.” He sits on the couch very close to me as I slide off the armrest and onto the soft cushion, and press play.
“Can I get you a coffee or a tea, or anything else?”
I think it’s my mind playing tricks, but anything else sounds like a silent invitation. Visions of me riding him while we watch Yellowstone flash through my brain, and I’m damn glad the lights are off so he can’t see the redness in my cheeks.
He shifts his arm so it’s over the back of the couch, not touching me, but close enough, and I curl my legs under because that’s how I always sit on the couch. His gaze drifts down to my knees for a fraction of a second, and I can feel the blood pounding in my ears.
Would I really have sex with him on our first date? Is that what a good southern woman should do, or am I putting too many expectations on myself? Not that I haven’t been thinking about it all night. I can barely focus on anything except how sexy he is in that tight Henley and those black jeans with no shoes.
Half way through the first episode, he gets up to fetch two glasses of water after I finish my glass of wine. I’m not tipsy because I stuck to one glass, but I’m certainly warm in the cheeks. When he sits back down, his knees spread wide, and I take the water gratefully from his hands.
“Thank you.”
“Hungry yet?”
Not for berry cobbler... “I’m okay for now. That meal was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” He spreads his arm back over the couch, and I lean a little further toward him. He turns, patting his chest, and I smile gratefully.
I snuggle up under his arm and rest my head on his shoulder as he presses play again, but I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is West and his mouth and what he could do with it if I really admitted to all the kinky things I’ve been imagining. Not that I’d ever tell him, that’s what fantasies are for, but I feel it pulsing wildly inside me, barely contained by our close proximity.
He’s warm and smells like home. I take it in as I rest a hand on his chest, and I feel him tense the moment I touch him. Could it be that he’s just as nervous as I am? Then I think about how he said he hasn’t had sex since before Priest and Bella’s wedding. Something carnal inside of me feels like breaking free, imagining him abstaining that long for little old me. And here we could’ve been doing this all along? Then again, I’ve never wanted to bring baggage into a new relationship, so I know now is the right time. I’m one hundred percent over my broken marriage. Even if I was the one to leave, it was still the hardest decision of my life.
However, nothing about this feels hard.
Still, what if I’m old-fashioned and want him to make the first move?
Then, as I glance up, he’s watching me and my lips part, but no words come out.