23. Conor
Conor
The days that follow our rooftop date are some of my favorite in recent memory.
First off, the Decatur house gets multiple offers, triggering a bidding war. Karla is ecstatic. And Chaz n’ Chad are clambering to set up a meeting and invest in Brady Homes.
Secondly, the silent auction for Jess’s artwork turns out to be a roaring success, and the lady who has the top offer on the house offers a sizable extra chunk of cash to take the paintings along with the house.
All of them. I haven’t told Jess the amount yet, because I’m waiting for the deal to go through.
But I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out.
And last, but certainly not least, I’ve been walking Jess to her bedroom door every night since our second date.
Kissing her goodnight and wishing her sweet dreams. Because I know that I have to—I want to—take this slow and easy with her.
Show her, not just tell her, that she’s special to me. That I truly care about her.
When she thought I was just using her, just wanted to take her to bed, I could hardly believe it.
Did she truly think that I saw her as an opportunity for a passing fling?
She seemed so scared, so anxious, that it made me wonder again just what exactly down with that boyfriend of hers.
How is it that Jess seems to believe so little in herself?
Whatever it is that went down with Johnny, she’ll tell me if she wants to, whenever she’s ready. All I can do until then is try and make her feel cherished. Make her feel like enough.
Because she’s more than enough.
So, I’ve taken her on a slew of dates. Every night, we’ve done something new: ten pin bowling (where she absolutely annihilated me), a drive-in movie (where we sat in the back of my truck on a pile of coats and held hands), the Georgia Aquarium (where she loved the whale sharks so much I bought her a stuffy).
Every date with Jess is the best date I’ve ever had. And, for the first time in years, I’ve gone from barely making it through a first date, to waiting excitedly, every day, for work to finish so I can take this girl on another adventure and create more memories with her.
I know Aiden is back next week, and we’re going to have to face some harsh realities then. For instance, how can I possibly explain that I fell for his sister when he was away? But, I’m determined to show him that my intentions are good. Same as I’m determined to show Jess.
This evening, I’m taking her to my new house again for a change of pace. A work date, of sorts. Which, in a real, corporate workplace would violate just about every HR rule in the book.
Because dating my staging contractor, who also happens to be my best friend’s sister and new roommate? That’s like the trifecta of rule-breaking.
But Jess is worth breaking the rules for. I know it.
Jess’s hand is warm and soft in mine as we walk up the pathway to my house. As we step inside, Jess sucks in a breath. “Wow!”
I smile, watching her reaction—the way her eyes widen, her mouth opens in a perfect little “o”, her tan skin crinkles around her smile. I’d happily spend days studying all of Jess’s expressions, trying to commit each tiny detail to memory.
I knew that my house would elicit such a reaction. Because gone are the salmon carpets and pieces of ripped up wall. And in their place is a big, open-plan floor space that’s a blank canvas.
She turns to me, and I can almost sense her excitement. “Do you know what you’re going to do in here?”
I feel shy all of a sudden. Yet another uncharacteristic emotion that Jess drags out of me. “I, uh, was hoping that you’d go through my plans with me.” My cheeks redden as I speak. “Give me your opinion.”
“On designing the house?” she squeaks, and I nod.
“Two seconds.” I retrieve a set of floor plans and a pot of pencils from a kitchen cabinet and roll the plans out across the floor. “Come take a look.”
Jess sits, cross-legged, in front of the rolled out papers.
It’s a little cooler this evening, and she’s wearing black leggings with an oversized, pale pink t-shirt that slouches off one, tan shoulder.
She gathers her hair into a topknot as she leans forward to pore over the pages.
Her glasses slip down her nose an inch or so, and I can’t help but grin at how cute she is.
I sit next to her. On my knees. Because I have no idea how women manage to make sitting cross-legged look so easy.
With a pencil, I point out where I’m thinking of creating a brand new, L-shaped kitchen. Where the powder room will go. How accordion-style French doors will run along the back of the house, showing off the pretty, treed yard and pool. She follows along, frowning in concentration as I talk.
“What do you think?” I ask, still slightly nervous.
“Incredible! Absolutely incredible.” She beams. “I can’t believe how much you can change a space by moving some walls around.”
I breathe a heavy sigh of relief, still unsure exactly why I’m so concerned about her opinion.
Because I care about her, so therefore, I care what she thinks. I watch her trace the drawings with a finger, enamored by their details.
“Anything you’d suggest?”
Jess shrugs. “Maybe find a space for a pantry in the kitchen? This is such a perfect family home. If you eventually have a family here, you’ll want a pantry.” She shifts slightly awkwardly, as if she’s just touched on a taboo topic. Does the thought make her uncomfortable?
“Good idea.” I nod. “Where do you suggest?”
We pore over the plans together for the better part of an hour, stopping briefly to place an order for Thai food delivery.
We find a place for a walk-in pantry, and I take Jess’s suggestions to stack the washer and dryer in the laundry room so I can add a sink, and to expand the hallway closet because, “you’re always going to accumulate shoes. ”
When our food arrives (red curry for Jess and Pad Thai for me, the secret spice-wuss), we carry the cartons outside and sit by the pool. The sun is setting, and an explosion of red and pink streaks blaze through the darkening sky. It truly looks like an artist’s canvas.
“So beautiful.” Jess sighs, gazing at the sky as she pops a piece of chicken in her mouth.
“You’re beautiful,” I murmur. Yup, I’m being cheesy as a wheel of gouda right now, but she is beautiful. I speak only the truth.
“None of that.”
“You are,” I insist. “I knew it the second I saw you.”
Jess snorts. “Lying on the ground in a pile of dirt?”
“That very moment.”
Jess’s eyes dart around, and she bites the inside of her cheek. Then, she makes her own confession. “I thought you were pretty okay yourself… for a freaky Charles Manson type.”
I burst into laughter. “Please, please, tell me that you’re not secretly one of those twisted people who writes letters to serial killers in jail, declaring love for them?”
“It’s called hybristophilia,” Jess says seriously.
I recoil in mock horror. “There had better be a good reason why you know that.”
She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a true crime buff.”
“Weirdo,” I say affectionately.
“Less weird than washing all the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.”
“I told you, it clogs the drain otherwise.”
“So unclog it after,” Jess says flippantly.
I gag. “That is absolutely disgusting.”
She puts her face really close to mine. “Disgusting?”
“Dis- gust -ing,” I say solemnly. Then, I grin. “But, I still like you anyway.”
Jess smiles and looks at me from under her lashes. “That’s convenient… because I like you, too.”
Her words are everything I want to hear. I slide my hand over to graze the sensitive, soft skin at the back of her neck. My lips find hers, hungry for her, and she responds immediately, clutching at my shoulders as we fall headfirst into the most incredible kiss.
I can’t get enough of her. Her lips taste both sweet and spicy. My mind swims, and when she makes a little noise in her throat, I tilt her head backwards so I can deepen the kiss.
Eventually, we break apart, breathing hard, but I make sure not to let her go.
“That was—”
“Wow,” Jess finishes for me, her voice scratchy and high-pitched. “That was wow.”
I gather her closer to me, pulling her into my chest for a hug. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the citrusy scent of her shampoo.
“I could kiss you all night,” I murmur into her hair.
“Then do,” she says.
I lean back so I can look at her, a million questions racing through my mind. Until now, our kisses have been sweet, and soft, but no less intoxicating. Of course I want her. But, even more than that, I want her to know how much I care about her.
I’m here to play the long game with Jess. The one where we end up together. Hopefully forever. Which means taking things one step at a time, as and when she’s ready. No need to rush into anything—because I’m not going anywhere. “Jess, I…”
Jess glances at my serious expression and smiles softly, her cheeks glowing petal pink.
“Just kissing,” she clarifies. “I just want to kiss you and fall asleep in your arms.”
Her eyes flicker when they meet mine, and my stomach jolts. “Well, I guess it’s only fair that I give you what you want.”
If she wants to fall asleep in my arms, I don’t want to wait a moment longer to hold her close. To wrap my arms tenderly around her body so we can drift off into sleep together… At this moment, I’ve never wanted anything so much.
Jess clearly has the same idea, as she jumps to her feet. “Let’s go home?”
“Let’s go home,” I reply with a smile.
As we drive, the air in the cab of the truck feels thick and heavy.
The electricity—the tension—in the air is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
It takes all of my willpower to focus on the road ahead, and not on the feeling of Jess’s hand in mine.
How her fingernails gently drag across the back of my hand, lighting all of my nerve endings on fire.
I thought this drive was only fifteen minutes. Why’s it taking so long?