Chapter Nineteen
L iv followed Artur toward the structure, belatedly realizing that it was a sukkah.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Wanted to talk to you away from the eyes of most people in the crowd,” he said. “Eyes and ears and all.”
He wanted privacy. He wanted to get her alone. But she needed to be clear. “And your words are for my ears only?”
He nodded.
“Doubt that would happen with this crowd,” she said with a smile, knowing how closely his friends watched him, not to mention how Naomi was. “But it’s a nice thought.”
He shrugged, but he didn’t seem overly concerned. “I figure if we go in here, we have an illusion that we’re the only people in there, or at least unless someone reeeally wants to busybody their way into our conversation.”
She nodded. That made sense no matter what he wanted to tell her.
Or not tell her, for that matter.
But the kicker was that he’d been keeping some kind of distance from her.
Why?
They hadn’t said words or had the conversation they’d planned to have, so maybe he’d drawn boundaries until they said words?
But he wanted privacy. He’d asked her here, out of sight and earshot from the rest of the crowd, protected by a barrier of…a hut with an open roof, vegetables and fruit hanging within reach.
Was this…?
She didn’t know.
But she’d followed him anyway.
“How are you doing?” he asked as they stepped inside the walls of the sukkah. “Is there anything you need? Anything you’ve been doing?”
“You want a debrief?” she asked, not being able to help the grin. “I mean this is partially a chance for me to network.”
He nodded. “A businessy place to do business for a mayor from two towns over.”
“Maybe. Or the new legislator for a few legislative districts over, depending on which title you want to use.” She wondered if clarifying was the right move; at that point, she was on shaky ground.
Which meant things that grounded her were what she needed; not the uncertain and unfamiliar title that felt like she was reaching beyond her grasp.
But it didn’t seem to faze him.
“Either way,” he said. “How has it been going?”
“Good,” she said, being entirely unable to keep from smiling at him. “I’ve met some interesting and cool people, who seem really nice and also great business contacts.”
He nodded. “My intention exactly.”
And then she realized something. This was his best friend’s house, and he seemed, from afar at least, comfortable with everybody in a way that she wasn’t used to seeing from him.
He’d pulled this together, giving her reasons she could come, and created a safe space for her to do so, riding that fine line between business and pleasure in a way she could rationalize.
With people he could trust.
“You have a very, very cool inner circle,” she said. “Thank you for letting me in.”
He blinked, the rest of the surprise transforming his face as it did every time she said something he didn’t expect or went somewhere he didn’t expect her to.
“You’re welcome,” he finally said, making it clear the leap of logic was welcome. “And I’m so very lucky to know them…and you.”
The pause, the slight tremble in his voice.
He wasn’t the only one who was nervous. She could see it now as he stood within touching distance. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses he must have snuck into the sukkah before she’d found him.
“Do you want a drink?
She shook her head. “Later,” she said unable to keep the tremble out of her own voice. “We…we… I think we have to talk first.”
He nodded, but that nervous energy was visible in every move he made. His hand shook slightly when he reached out. Dear God she wanted to hug him. This cool, confident man was nervous.
And she was responsible.
Liv actually thought he was going to reach for the glass, but his hand went right past it, grabbing for the display of vegetables that were on the table behind her.
What…
“Broccoli.”
Now it was her turn to blink in surprise, shock.
What the heck was he doing holding the leafy green vegetable, or at least a pretty good facsimile of it? The vegetable sat in his hands, long fingers flashing greenery in her face. “What?”
“A tradition,” he said. “In certain Eastern European countries, the broccoli is a symbol of love and romance.”
Aaah.
“I see,” she said, the amusement at his line of conversation overpowering the fear that sat in the pit of her stomach.
Not fear of him, exactly. But fear of the situation and what she might…no. Not might.
What she was going to do.
Where this was going to lead, and how powerless she was to stop it.
“So,” she managed, trying to take the situation seriously. “What do you do with it? Put it under your pillow?”
“No,” he said, stepping closer to her, closing the distance between them.
Yep. She was in trouble.
Deep trouble, because any resolve she’d managed to pull together was gone and showing no signs of return.
But she needed to keep an expression on her face that demonstrated she took this, and him, seriously. “Wear it under your clothing? Near certain parts of your body to inspire their function?”
This time, she could see the twitch by the corner of his mouth, as if he was holding back laughter. The first dent in his armor she’d seen all night.
“No,” he said, pushing on, his voice wrapping around her, turning her insides to jelly.
She laced her fingers together and looked up. “What then?”
He pointed upwards, to a string hanging down from the roof, a duplicate of the broccoli he’d jettisoned hanging from it.
“If you kiss under it,” he said, “your relationship will be as blessed as the green of the broccoli, and gets stronger at its root.”
Despite everything, despite what she knew was about to happen, she wanted to laugh. Whether it was nervous laughter or amusement at the story he was telling, she didn’t know.
But deep inside, she knew that giving in to the laughter would be a horrible idea, the moment was wrapped up in too many other things she didn’t want to defuse. And so, instead, she said the first words that came into her head. “You’re full of pudding.”
He looked so adorably puzzled, this man who made magic of language and space for her.
This enigma wrapped in a riddle.
She wouldn’t hold herself responsible for what she was about to do; it was natural, necessary now that he stood in front of her in a place that felt more private than it was. But he’d opened that door, created that space.
And prepared himself for failure.
He needed her, and if she was going to be honest with herself, she needed him too.
So, she kissed him.
Which shouldn’t have felt so inevitable, and yet it was. The taste of him, the way he opened up to her, the way his hands felt on her.
All of it was inevitable.
And she was doomed.
Because she didn’t want to stop.
*
It had been a long time since Artur felt comfortable enough to lose himself completely in anybody or anything, and yet there he was, his entire consciousness focused on Liv. His mouth on hers, his hands on her, and his body aching, wanting to close the distance between them.
When she pulled back, he felt as if she’d taken a part of him with her. “I…”
“I liked that,” she said, looking up at him. “But not just like. It felt amazing and you felt amazing and…”
“So you don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen?”
She shook her head. “Blaming nothing, not even the starlight. This was me…this was you…and yes.”
As the words settled in his brain, the relief galloped out of him. “You’re not pretending it didn’t happen.”
She shook her head, and the fire in her eyes reminded him of a shamash. “And you know what?”
“I don’t,” he said. “Tell me. I don’t want to make assumptions.”
“I might want to do it again,” she said.
And if he was going to faint, that would be the moment.
But he didn’t.
“So,” she said, eyes wide and looking up at him with a mix of emotions playing across her face, drawing him in and making him want to untie the threads at the same time.
He didn’t want to let go.
Unfortunately, he had to remind himself that Abe’s backyard sukkah, in the middle of a party that Abe had thrown for his benefit, was NOT the place to continue exploring Liv—her mouth, or her body.
“What do you recommend we do here, Mr. Expert on…Delicate Situations?”
He shook his head, suddenly torn between his reflexive need to plan a way out that didn’t harm her. And his lack of desire to leave her, because ways out and planning required distance, walls.
And he wasn’t strong enough for those.
“I…don’t know,” he managed, his mental walls erected out of goopy modeling clay barely separated his desires for her and his need to smooth a path professionally; the way he’d done since he was twenty-one and one of his college friends had desperately needed his help.
“But what I do know,” he said, grasping for clarity, “is that your sister is here and…”
“That’s true,” she said, moving back toward him as if he hadn’t said a word. “But that isn’t the delicate situation I’d like to consult you on.”
“What situation would that be?” he asked, barely able to get the words out; even wrapping his mind around what was happening seemed beyond him. And the goopy clay that was starting to show holes.
“The situation where—” she put her arms around his neck “—I’ve decided I’m not done kissing you.”
The clay fell over like melted wax, as if it had never been shaped into something akin to solid form. Words emerged out of the darkness. “Kiss me already,” he said.
“Very well,” she replied, her lips meeting his this time, those beautiful eyes of hers searing right through him and destroying every single wall he had ever attempted to build.
It was his turn to break the kiss. “I’m afraid that if we don’t go back to the party, someone’s going to send in a search party .”
And when she nodded, she didn’t pull away completely. She simply stepped away long enough to stand next to him and take his hand in hers. “Let’s keep them from wasting their time,” she said. “Though I don’t expect them to be glad we had them call off the search.”
And for the first time all night, he went into the storm of his best friends’ backyard, happy, unconcerned, with a woman whom he saw something more than just a moment with.
Lucky for him, his friends were as excited about the prospect as he was. He hoped they’d leave him time to get adjusted to the situation before involving themselves further and requiring he bring her to Tuesday dinner.