Chapter 7 #3
“Every one of them.” I let her get away with the change of subject and I don’t tell her there are gifts for her and Jimmy under the tree. Something tells me this isn’t the right time. I don’t want to scare her off now that she’s back, now that I’ve earned some trust.
She nods. “It must be wonderful having a big family, especially at this time of year.” I hear the longing in her voice and reach out to touch her.
“It is. It must be a boatload of fun to have a young boy this time of year.”
She laughs. “You’re right. Sorry if I sounded wistful. I’m really looking forward to this Christmas.” She looks into my eyes with the bright jewel of hers and adds, “Thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Your generosity with the dog-sitting fees means,” she lowers her voice as Jimmy and Dasher watch the Grinch, “Santa will have extra presents for Jimmy this year.”
“I’m glad. I hope Santa has some presents for you too.”
She waves a hand, dismissing the notion. Before I can protest, she says, “Seeing Jimmy’s face light up is truly the best gift ever—I know I sound like a cliché, but it’s absolutely true, cross my heart.”
I watch her fingers draw across her breasts and notice the outline of her nipples. I’m selfishly glad she hasn’t indulged in buying a bra for herself. Who needs to spend money on lingerie? She certainly doesn’t. She’s too sexy without it, mouthwatering braless even in a flannel shirt.
She thinks the shirt hides her lack of undergarments, but she couldn’t be more wrong. The sway and occasional brush of the shirt against her full breasts tease more enticingly than if she were wearing a tight sweater. New revelation for me—subtle can be more exciting than bold.
“Christmas is only a week away. What are you going to do?”
She shrugs. “I know we should talk, but…” She juts her chin in Jimmy’s direction.
“I have an idea. How about as a reward for helping you find Jimmy today, you come to dinner with me tomorrow night?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “The last thing I want to do is leave Jimmy now.”
“I get it, but say if I found the ideal babysitter and I throw in Dasher—what would you say then?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Garino will babysit.”
“I don’t think so. Besides I can’t have Dasher at my apartment.”
“They can both dog-sit at my place.”
“You’ll never talk Garin--Annamarie into it. She sits home in her jammies and reads at night.”
“If I convince her, you’ll go for it?”
“Okay, fine.” She’s smiling and sure of herself, confident that Garino will never do it.
But I know two things about Garino. First, she can be bought for the right price and second, but most important, she’s a sucker for romance.
Underneath her crusty overprotective exterior, she has a heart starving for something mushy.
Or I could be totally wrong and she’ll laugh her ass off at my expense.
I’ll find out. Immediately.
I was right about Garino. We drop off Jimmy and Dasher at her modest apartment, though Ronnie is reluctant and slow to leave. Once I get her to the car, I’m relieved.
“I’ve never in my life had to work this hard to get a woman to go to dinner with me,” I say. I let out a big sigh, not caring that she laughs, in fact glad because it should relieve some of her obvious tension.
“It’s just dinner, Mr. Hot Shot. I’m not sleeping with you.”
I snort. “Presumptuous aren’t you?” I pretend I’m not interested, but it’s a farse.
She snorts back at me. “I may not be confident about a lot of things, but one thing I’m absolutely confident about is that men are easy and they all want one thing. Always. Sex.”
“Someone taught you that lesson well,” I say. Then I regret the comment and vow to be more careful. “But let’s not start out talking about the sex that I’m never going to have or I’ll end up with blue balls for sure.”
She laughs again and puts a hand on my arm. “Okay. No more teasing. I know it’s not nice and you deserve a nice night.”
“Nice. Sure. That’s what I deserve exactly. A nice night.”
“You know what I mean. Pleasant. Pleasing—”
“Don’t say pleasing,” I say. “It has connotations.” I give her a look and inside I’m all kinds of turned on, but I’m determined to keep it light. Because it’s Ronnie who deserves a nice night and I’m going to make sure she has one, free of stress, even if that means blue balls for me.
She giggles and shakes her head and I drive, my mood light and the promise of a fun evening in spite of the no-sex rule has me elated.
Fuck my cock. This is a night for my heart and soul and if the giddy feeling in me at her smile is any indication it ain’t half bad.
Maybe it’s even better than a night of mindless sex.
Damn. I’m a glutton but I don’t care. This woman has me by the… not my balls.
It’s like she’s reached in and grabbed my heart in her hands.
We arrive at Louie’s and he takes our coats, charmed by Ronnie instantly, same as I was. She wears a soft red sweater and black leggings with tall black boots and looks hot as sin. Naturally I let out a loud whistle as we follow Louie to our table.
“Stop that,” she says. “People are staring.”
“Sweetheart, they were going to stare whether I whistled or not. You’re a knock out. Is that a new outfit?” I ask as I pull out her chair and she sits.
She nods, looking around and meeting the stare of one of the patrons until they look away. My dick gets solid knowing she went out and bought herself a new outfit for me. The shot of fire pings straight to my heart then to my dick and back again.
“You should splurge on yourself more often,” I say. “You always look gorgeous, but tonight…” I don’t dare finish my thought because the first thing that pops into my head is that I could eat her alive. Grinning, I hope not too wolfishly, I let the sentence trail off.
“You know you look like the big bad wolf, right?” she says, but she’s half smiling in a partly teasing, partly reprimanding way. Her special brand, the one I’m hooked on.
We order and she’s impressed with the food, the ambiance and Louie.
“This place is great,” she says. “Not too chi-chi to make the likes of me uncomfortable.”
“Sweetheart, I could take you anywhere and you’d improve the place.”
Then she blushes. And my dick applauds with a jump, hardening and growing to almost uncomfortable proportions. It’s been half-hard all night and doesn’t need much to send me over. She turns away, aware and embarrassed at her blush.
“Looks like you’re the one with admirers here,” she says with sarcastic cheer, jutting her chin toward someone to my left and behind me. I turn. Mistake.
The leggy blond woman who’d been standing at the bar rushes forward as if turning in her direction constitutes an open invitation.
“Crystal,” I say as she stops at the table and leans forward like she’s going to kiss me right there in front of Ronnie. I jump from my chair and hold her off with two hands. She turns that into a hug until I manage to separate from her. Jesus.
I’m hyper-aware of Ronnie’s eyes on me.
“Sean it’s so good to see you. I can’t wait to go to the game. Thank you so much for the tickets—”
I hear Ronnie suck in a breath and shoot her a look, trying to tell her it’s not what she thinks. Except it is what she thinks. I gave Crystal those tickets over a month ago, long before I met Ronnie.
“I’m…” I have no idea what to say that won’t make me a douche.
Maybe because I am a douche. Or I was one.
“Crystal, this is Ronnie,” I gesture toward Ronnie who’s wearing a tight smile, her jewel eyes snapping, making her look like she’s ready to lash out.
Probably at me. So I add, “She’s my date.
We’re having dinner, so if you’ll excuse us.
.” I step back and give Crystal a hard look, harder than I would normally because the poor girl’s done nothing wrong, not really.
A little rude and thoughtless intruding at my table, but maybe she was just trying to say thank you.
Who the hell am I kidding? She was looking to score another night or maybe more tickets.
Not that I blame her. She’s the kind of woman I courted for years, hers is the kind of behavior I enjoyed for years.
She’s like all the women who would fall all over me to be with me and please me in shallow meaningless relationships meant to be an ego rush on both sides and not much more.
It doesn’t make Crystal a bad person, or me either for that matter.
But I’m so not into that scene anymore and I need to make that clear to her.
“Oh… okay,” she says, flicking a gaze at Ronnie, looking her up and down assessing her. “Sorry.” She smiles. Then she mouths something to Ronnie and winks. It looks suspiciously like she said something about good in the sack, but I can’t be sure.
Ronnie’s response is a pair of raised eyebrows. She doesn’t say a word. Can’t blame her. What does a woman say in a situation like this? Besides fuck off bitch. But Ronnie has far too much class to say that even if she’s thinking the words.
Luckily Crystal disappears, going back to her spot at the bar, her back to us as she finds some guy there to talk to. I return to my seat. Wary doesn’t even cover how I feel.
I have some ‘splaining to do.
“An ex?” Ronnie says, sitting back in her chair. She still has half a plate of chicken Marsala in front of her, but there’s no mistaking that she’s done eating. Hopefully she’s not done with me. Time to get honest. I heave a breath.
“Not exactly. More like a hook-up. From a while back.”
“How far back?” she asks and I don’t miss the note of accusation which makes me smile—on the inside.
“More than a month ago. I haven’t been with anyone in more than a month.”
She says, “What are you waiting for?”