Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CLAIRE
Claire leaned an ear against the door of Jay’s apartment. A minute passed without response, and she knocked again. After a couple of loud raps, the door swung open. He stood wearing an oven mitt.
"Buona sera," he said with a bow.
"Good evening to you," she replied with a smile.
Her arms found his waist, and she pulled him close. They shared a deep kiss, filled with the same desire that had them questioning their collective resolve from the previous weekend. After a moment he pulled away, a look of welcomed surprise on his face.
"You know, it's customary to have dessert after dinner,” he said, pulling her inside and closing the door.
"I was only following orders." She pointed to the red apron he wore, bearing the phrase Kiss the Cook in large white letters across it.
"How are you at making salad?" he asked.
"Haven't burned one yet."
"You'll find everything you need in the fridge. I'm just gonna finish up the sauce and the bread and then we should be good to go."
She dispensed with her shoes and her Monday frame-of-mind.
Standing beside him while chopping a host of fresh vegetables had somehow become one of the most pleasurable experiences of her life.
He made her laugh with a silly Italian accent.
Delighted her by juggling Roma tomatoes.
Melted her with little kisses on the back of her neck as they moved in unison around his kitchen.
Just before plating, Jay tossed his apron on the counter and wrapped his arms around her.
He untied her apron, his lips on her neck as he completed the task.
Carefully, he pulled it over her head and tossed it beside his.
"Very slick, Mr. Avery,” she said.
“Yes, but I’m terrible with the hooks on a bra.”
“I doubt that very much.”
He offered to set the table, but she preferred the bar in his kitchen.
Side-by-side on barstools, they enjoyed a delicious, homemade meal by candlelight.
The bottle of wine disappeared as they shared more stories of their childhood.
Claire learned more about Rob, touched by their lifelong friendship.
The two men were more like brothers. Comparing notes, they couldn’t wait to get Rob in the same room with Harry and Hamish.
After dinner, they moved to the danger zone: the James Bond sofa. The nervous flutters returned. Claire eyed the coffee table. No sign of a wedding ring, thankfully. Still, she sent up a silent prayer. Please don’t let tonight be a repeat of before.
"Popcorn? Soda? Junior Mints?" he asked.
"Are you kidding?” she asked. “Where would I put it? I'm stuffed.”
"You're not gonna fall asleep on me, are you?"
"Depends on the movie. I was so busy today, I didn’t have time to figure out the quote."
"It's a classic,” he said. “I'm sure you’ve seen it a million times."
"Can you give me a hint?" she asked.
"It’s a musical set in New York City."
Claire thought for a moment. "The Jazz Singer. No wait! Guys and Dolls."
"West Side Story," he said.
“I love West Side Story!”
"It’s one of my all-time favorites. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but Natalie Wood is my ultimate celebrity crush."
Claire held up her hand. “Now hold up a sec. I thought Kate Winslet is your celebrity crush?”
He shot her a seductive look. “Who needs Kate when I’ve got the real thing?”
“For someone who claims to not be romantic, you’re killing me with these lines of yours, Mr. Avery,” Claire said.
"That’s not a line," he said, his tone suddenly deeper. “Wanna know something else? Kate Winslet would kill to have your eyes.”
“My eyes?” she questioned.
Jay moved closer. “I’ve debated their true color for weeks.
I know your driver's license says green, but to assign them one basic color is total injustice. They’re like an ocean suspended inside a secret garden—both watery and earthy at the same time.
Your eyes make it possible for me to see myself as I never have before.
Because of you, I now understand that something beautiful can grow from a dark place. That good can come from bad.”
The look on his face said it all—he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Claire’s inside burned with familiar heat. A Jay-induced flame.
"How could I have ever given myself to anyone, for better or worse, knowing what I know now?" he asked.
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. Claire’s heart pounded an insane rhythm at his unexpected words. Jay pulled her in and buried his face in her neck.
"You make me feel better about myself than I ever have in my entire life," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
They stayed locked in a tight embrace for several moments. Claire breathed slow, deep breaths, fearing her heart might explode. When Jay finally pulled back, she found his most intense look yet.
“I’ve lied to myself and everyone around me. Years of pretending what Hope and I had together was enough. I’m just so, so sorry, Claire.”
"Sorry? For what?" she asked.
"For not finding my way to you sooner."
He kissed her. They forgot the movie. Clothes and apprehensions fell to the floor as they slowly made their way to his bed.
Neither rushed, and Claire lost herself in each new discovery—the taste of his earlobe, the feel of her hands on his back, the way he reacted when her lips found a certain spot on his neck.
They made love softly and without a sound, letting their bodies connect the way their minds and hearts had over a string of magical days.
He answered every touch with gentleness.
For the first time, Claire felt certain Jay’s past no longer blinded him, but lingered as a series of misty shadows fading into obscurity.
He ran his hand lightly across her pale chest and whispered these words…
"I’m in love with you, Claire."
She smoothed his hair off his forehead with a smile. “I’m in love with you, too.”
They lay in silence for a long time, Jay gently stroking her arm. These were the moments she'd longed for with Calvin. The soft, quiet moments which were as powerful as the physical exchange itself. Even more so, she knew now.
“It all makes sense,” she declared, breaking the silence. “I totally get it.”
“Get what?” he asked.
“Gelato,” she replied.
“What do you mean?”
“Everything really is richer and more intense… when it’s had time to churn at a slower rate.”
"Gelato was never this good," Jay said, tightening his grip around her.
Blissful sleep crept over her. She hated surrendering to it, afraid she’d wake and discover it had all been a dream.
Her thoughts drifted for a moment, and Calvin’s body replaced Jay’s in her mind.
She tried to picture him lying beside her.
Touching her the way Jay had. Wanting her the way Jay did.
Their sex had felt amazing in the beginning, like it often does when emotions are fresh and hungry for adventure.
But they had never shared a deep, intimate connection—not like the one she now shared with Jay.
Calvin never held her through the quiet moments afterward, and he never wanted to be held.
Sex always ended with a hot shower and an urgent need to check in with his media empire, leaving Claire alone to bask in the glow of whatever flickered across the flatscreen television in his bedroom.
He never said “I love you” either, convinced people had drained the words of all meaning through overuse.
At first, she accepted that reasoning, content to express her feelings in other ways.
But now, lying beside Jay, she understood those words carried a power she had never known before.
“I had another dream about you the other night,” Jay said.
“What kind of dream?” she asked.
“The kind I didn’t want to wake up from.”
"Was it hot? Sexy?" She pressed her foot against his. “Was I a haughty dominatrix in leather, Stilettos, and a silver-studded dog collar who tied you to the bedpost?"
"You were the soft, tender lover wearing one of my old shirts and a diamond wedding ring." Jay hooked a finger under her chin, turning her face up to his. "I don't know anything that's sexier than that."