Six
I WAKE UP THE NEXT morning excited and fluttery.
As fluttery as I’ve ever been in my life.
If it didn’t make me so incredibly nervous, it would be intoxicating.
But feeling this way is not smart. Or sensible. Or safe. If I don’t want to be dealing with a broken heart or crushing disappointment, I really need to rein in these feelings and make sure I’m understanding this situation as temporary.
People do it all the time. Have fun for a short time, knowing it can never be permanent. That it’s for the best.
I can do it too.
Otherwise I’ll have to call the whole thing quits and miss out on a hundred-thousand-dollar windfall.
I really don’t want to do that.
As I take a quick shower and get dressed, I give myself a firm mental lecture, and I’m in a better, stronger emotional state when I head downstairs, grabbing a cup of coffee in a travel mug before heading out to walk Oscar and start my day.
It’s a long one since I have Sasha duties tacked onto my normal full schedule. The day passes quickly, and I do my best not to get giddy about seeing Dan again in the evening.
Like yesterday, Sasha and I meet Dan in the library parking lot at seven. He’s standing by his car as I approach, and something about the sight of him makes my heart jump right into my throat, choking me on a surge of attraction and appreciation.
He’s lean but strong. His light brown hair glints like gold in the sunlight. His smile is warm. Heart-stopping. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt but still manages to look breezy and affluent.
His parents might not be billionaires or multimillionaires like a good number of Green Valley residents, but they’re still incredibly well off. Privileged. Worlds away from my own family and experiences. We don’t fit at all.
What the hell am I even doing with him?
He kneels down as I approach so he can greet Sasha on the dog’s level, giving her an enthusiastic rubdown and inquiring about her health and her mood. Sasha answers with a cheerful, extended yowl, explaining that she’s happy to see him, of course, but the bigger priority is that we begin the walk she’s been promised. She gives a few dramatic nods toward the trail to make sure we can understand her declaration.
“I know, I know,” Dan says with a laugh as he stands up. “How dare I delay your walk by saying hello.” His eyes shift to my face. “Hi.”
I blush for no good reason. “Hi.”
“How are you?” It sounds like he really wants to know. His eyes are searching my expression.
“I’m fine.”
“No urge to flee in a panic to a different state?”
His wry comment surprises me so much I giggle. “Maybe a few brief flickers, but nothing long-lived.”
“That’s good.” At a demanding yip from Sasha, he laughs again. “Yes, we’re coming. Have a little patience.”
“She has a lot of fine qualities, but patience isn’t one of them.” I let the dog pull me toward the trail, and Dan falls into step with us.
“I can sympathize.”
I check his face to discover if he’s implying something by that mild comment, but he’s not. He smiles at me.
So judge me if you must. There’s no way I can help but smile back.
***
T HE FOLLOWING EVENING is Dan’s parents’ cookout, so I have to meet them for the first time.
I’m nervous about it all day.
There’s no real reason for me to be nervous. It doesn’t matter at all whether his parents like me or not. In fact, it will probably make it easier later on if they don’t. They’ll be glad we called it off after a short engagement and an even shorter marriage.
But I want them to like me anyway.
I can’t seem to help it.
He hasn’t talked all that much about his parents in the past month. He’s told me they got divorced—which is when he moved out of Green Valley with his mom—but then got back together after a few years. His father works in the finance department of a local company, and his mother has always been a stay-at-home spouse except for the years she was divorced—when she worked retail. He seems to have a decent relationship with them, but they’re not as close as some families. Definitely not as close as Savannah is with Jim and Esther.
I don’t know anything else, so there’s not much I can do to prepare.
Before I pick out my outfit, I text Dan to ask if this is a regular, down-home barbecue where I can wear shorts and a casual top or one of Green Valley’s fancy, outdoor get-togethers in which garden-party attire is more appropriate.
He tells me to wear shorts, so I do. Cute, well-cut blue shorts and a simple white top that looks a step better than a regular T-shirt. I fix my hair and put on makeup—I can only pull off the most natural-looking makeup—and finish my ensemble with trendy sandals.
I look as good as I could hope for, so I pray my outfit is in keeping with everyone else’s.
I’m relieved when Dan shows up in khaki shorts and a green golf shirt. He lingers to chat with Jim and Esther, who are getting ready to go out to their favorite pizza place for dinner. I’m quiet as we head out to his car and then start the drive there.
“You okay?” he asks after a few minutes.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I smile at him to prove it.
He gives me a little eye roll and shake of his head. “If that grin is supposed to be evidence of you being fine, you need to work on it some more.”
I can’t help but laugh, the nervous tension inside me breaking. “Sorry. I really am okay. Honestly, kind of uptight about meeting your parents, although I don’t know why.”
He looks faintly surprised. “They’re not too scary. I mean, it’s not like they’re the most outgoing and welcoming people in the world, but they’re not nearly as intimidating as other Green Valley parents. They’ll be perfectly polite to you. I guarantee it.”
“Okay. Good.” I narrow my eyes at him, curious about his description of his family. “Were they kind of standoffish with you?”
He shrugs. Hesitates. “They weren’t too bad. Dad always worked all the time, and Mom was always happy when she had her circle of friends around. She was really needy when they were divorced, and so she relied on me a lot more than she used to. But I don’t think it was because she was missing Dad. I think it was because she was missing her friends. But I always knew they loved me. We just didn’t do a whole lot of... bonding.”
I nod, thinking through what he said. “That makes sense.” I pause before I add, “It must have been really hard for you to move after the divorce like that. You lost all your friends too.”
His jaw works very slightly. “Yeah.”
I’m not only curious. I’m emotionally compelled to find out more about how Dan felt, how he dealt with the situation, what kind of scars it left on him that he manages to hide so well. But it feels like an intense conversation and not one to have on the way to a cookout. “You’ll have to tell me more about it sometime.”
He shoots me a quick look. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
We fall back into silence, but it’s an intimate kind rather than an uncomfortable one so it doesn’t feel too bad.
***
D AN’S PARENTS ARE EXACTLY as he described them—polite and friendly in a slightly cool way. Like they’re interested in me and pleased to finally meet me but not like they’re particularly invested in who I am and what I’m like.
It’s probably the easiest possibility for getting through this situation, but I still feel kind of offended on Dan’s behalf.
Surely they care about the person Dan is supposed to be in love with. The person he’s planning to spend the rest of his life with. Surely they’d want to get to know her. Surely they want to see their son happy in his personal life.
Maybe they do, but they definitely don’t convey it. It feels like meeting a boyfriend’s boss rather than his parents.
I shrug it off and concentrate instead on making engaging small talk to the various guests scattered around the big yard and pool deck. They’re clearly all friends of his parents rather than Dan. We’re the only people under thirty in attendance. But Dan appears to know most of them, and he chats easily, asking about their health and their pets and their jobs. I pull out every social skill I possess so I can make a good impression, and I’m almost positive that I do.
Everything goes perfectly fine for two hours, and it doesn’t really matter that it’s boring as hell.
We’ve finished talking to a stuffy older couple who are evidently obsessed with their collection of cars when Dan asks me if I need another drink.
I’ve been nursing the same glass of champagne punch for an hour now since I don’t want to get tipsy or have to pee. “I think I’m fine on alcohol for tonight. If I drink any more, I might just fall asleep.”
His eyes laugh, although his lips are adorably sober. “Is that some sort of hint about the quality of this gathering?”
“No! I mean, well...” When I realize he’s teasing, I give him a narrow-eyed glare. “Don’t even try to convince me that you’re having the time of your life.”
“If I have to get through another tedious, superficial conversation, I might blow my top.”
“That might be amusing. You shouldn’t tempt me with a good time.”
He laughs at that and takes my hand to pull me toward the patio doors. “Let’s take a break and get away for a while.”
I have no objections to that proposition. I keep smiling and nodding at everyone we pass until we’re in the house and into the large kitchen. There, Dan greets the caterers blandly and pours out two glasses of lemonade and hands one to me. Then he fills up a plate with a selection of delicious-looking cookies, lemon bars, and petits fours, evidently oblivious to the suspicious look a bad-tempered woman aims at him.
Holding the plate and his glass, he nods toward a different kitchen door. “Come on.”
I follow him through a hall and upstairs to a room at the far end of the house. It was obviously Dan’s bedroom growing up, and it doesn’t appear to have been changed. It still has a lofted bed, a computer desk, and framed posters of indie bands and science fiction movies on the walls.
I stare around at it, smiling.
“No mocking allowed,” he says sternly. “I was in high school.”
“I guess I should be relieved there aren’t half-naked women on the walls.”
“I was a very classy kid,” he tells me.
That makes me laugh again.
We settle on the striped area rug, leaning against the bed and arranging our goodies. I grab a salted-caramel-and-almond cookie and take a big bite. “Mmm.”
Dan is leaning over to flip through an impressive vinyl record collection.
“You’ve got a ton of those.”
“Yeah. It was one of my pastimes in high school and college. Nothing is really worth a lot, but I do have some good ones.” He pulls out a sleeved record with a worn cover of a Johnny Cash album.
I smile. “Nice. I never would have taken you for a Johnny Cash fan.”
“I like all kinds of things,” he explains as he carefully pulls out the record and sets it on the player, turning down the volume slightly since it was set high. “But the store nearby always had more country music than anything else, so I ended up with a lot of it.”
The familiar gravelly tones fill the room with a haunting kind of poignancy.
We listen as we eat our dessert, occasionally commenting on a line or an instrumental section but mostly just enjoying the music.
Eventually our plate of treats is empty. Dan sets it up on the desk and then rearranges himself on the floor, closer to me than before.
Despite my enjoyment of the relaxing moment, a flicker of physical interest awakens inside me. His body is big and warm and real and there . Right there beside me.
I want to touch him.
The memory of having sex with him in the car two nights ago rushes back to me in a hot wave. I feel it again. See it again. Experience it again in my mind. Soon I’m flushed and breathing faster than I was.
Dan adjusts his position beside me. He’s not looking at me. At all. But it still seems like he’s acutely aware of me.
As much as I’m aware of him.
“Vicky?” he says after a few minutes in which I get more and more uncomfortable.
“What?” The one word comes out in almost a gasp because I’m ridiculously breathless. Nothing has even happened yet.
He turns toward me at last. His silvery eyes are hot and urgent. Deeply compelling. “Can I try something?”
My mind is too overwhelmed to figure out what he’s asking, but there’s nothing he could ask right now that I wouldn’t agree to. “Yes.”
He lifts one hand to cup my cheek and turn my head so I’m facing him. Then he leans over into a kiss.
It starts lightly. Almost experimental. But at the first touch of his lips, pleasure surges inside me and I grab for it needily. I push toward him eagerly. He has to take my head in both his hands as I deepen the kiss.
He makes a throaty sound as he turns his body, moving onto his knees at the same time. I do the same so it’s easier to stretch up to his level. My body pulses with heat and excitement as our mouths move together and his tongue slides between my lips.
I wrap my arms around his neck. I must be too enthusiastic because he gets pushed backward. After a brief, clumsy maneuver, he ends up on his ass again and uses the opportunity to pull me onto his lap.
I feel awkward with my legs sprawled, so I adjust so I’m straddling his hips. This is much, much better. My groin is aligned with his, and I can feel that he’s already getting hard in his pants.
I want it so much. Want him so much. I kiss him for all I’m worth as I grind myself against him.
He huffs out a breathless sound as he slides his hands down to cup my bottom over the stretched fabric of my shorts. “Damn, Vicky! You’re on fire.”
I feel on fire. I feel like there’s so much going on inside me that my skin can’t possibly contain it. And I also feel a familiar flicker of a different emotion.
Fear.
It slices through my arousal so sharply that I pull away, gasping frantically.
“What’s the matter?” he asks thickly. He doesn’t pursue the kiss after my withdrawal although he obviously wants to. “I thought we were doing pretty good.”
“We were. It was way better than good. But... but...”
“You’re getting scared again.”
I nod. Sniff. Straighten my back. I’m still straddling his lap, and it feels intimate in ways that aren’t purely sexy. “I don’t know why. I haven’t been scared at all today and yesterday.”
“I didn’t think so. I thought you’d finally...”
I’m not sure how he’s planning to finish that sentence. I’m not sure I want to know. It might make me feel like an uptight mess of a woman. “I felt better about things. Even though we had sex, I was feeling more comfortable with you. But now I’m...”
“You’re getting scared again.” He sighs and gently helps me climb off his lap.
“You’re mad?” I’m really worried about this. I wouldn’t hurt him on purpose for anything.
“No, I’m not mad.” He gives me a quirky smile. “I’m painfully turned on at the moment, but once that’s dealt with, I’ll be fine. I get it. Sex makes things more complicated. It’s totally fine if you’d rather not get into all that while we have this whole engagement plan going on.”
“I just feel like it will keep things simpler and less messy. But I feel bad.”
“Why do you feel bad?”
“Well, it seems like... like you want to...”
He laughs, and it sounds sincere. Not bitter at all. “Of course I want to have sex with you, Vicky, but I’m not some sort of slave to my carnal urges. I like hanging out with you in other ways too, and I do want to go through with our plan. So we’ll just say, for now, no sex. And we better say no kissing other than quick pecks in public because kissing you is going to make me really want to have sex with you.”
I’m deeply relieved. And oddly gratified by the low-key, considerate manner he’s taking what has to feel like a rejection. “Okay. Thank you. No sex and no real kissing. We’ll stick to the plan.”
Johnny Cash is still serenading us in the background. I smile and am pleased when Dan smiles back.
This will be better. This will be much safer.
We can be friends and go through with our pretense of engagement and marriage for the rest of the world, but we don’t have to complicate matters with uncomfortable intimacy or a messy physical relationship.
Maybe once it’s over, we can see where we stand.
Maybe Dan won’t immediately dump me when he gets what he wants.
Maybe I can learn to trust him. Rely on him in certain ways.
As long as I don’t give him everything.
That would be a huge mistake.