Chapter 25
From the moment Porter picked her up that night, he knew he was a goner. Fiona was wearing a dress that seemed designed to drive him wild, and her hair and striking blue eyes were even more enchanting in the mood lighting of the rooftop bar. But it wasn’t just the way she looked that had his heart unabashedly fluttering; it was the fact that she’d gone to this trouble for a date with him. And something about that unnerved him, but honestly, he wasn’t ready to look too far into that just yet.
He felt drawn to her. From the day he met her, he felt this pull to be in her presence. But the more he got to know her, and the more time they spent together, the more he wanted. He didn’t know if she felt the same, but now that he wasn’t going to be her boss anymore, he had time to figure it out.
They lingered at the bar until well past midnight, but still, Porter wasn’t ready for the night to end. For the first time since he’d moved to Savannah, he wished he had his own place. He’d looked in the area a few times, but nothing made him want to move out of his mom’s condo. But now, when he got back late, his mother would immediately want the details about his date. Luckily for both of them, Fiona invited him to her place for a nightcap before he had to head home. Once they were inside, they opted for some mugs of tea, since they each had early mornings ahead. Fiona heated the water while Porter checked out her apartment.
It didn’t take long; her place was tiny. But something about it felt comfortable and inviting. Her furniture was a stark contrast to her dark wardrobe. It was all eclectic, with different prints and vibrant colors, possibly from several different phases of her life.
Fiona emerged from the kitchen, two mugs of peppermint tea in hand.
“I like your apartment,” he told her, genuinely.
“It’s haunted,” she said casually, and settled into the couch.
“Excuse me?” Porter asked, as he took his mug from her.
“My neighbor, Muriel, told me this place is haunted,” Fiona said, and sipped her tea. “I think she might be right.”
“It is the South,” Porter said. “We have our fair share of history. Ghosts come with the territory.”
“I’ve only had a few experiences, so if someone does hang out here, they don’t seem to mind me.” She glanced up at him. “You on the other hand…to be determined.”
Porter smiled. “Some people have dogs to tell them if someone is worth keeping around, but you have ghosts?”
She shrugged. “The apartment doesn’t allow pets, so it’s really the next best thing.”
She blew carefully on the tea, and set it down on the coffee table to cool. Porter set his mug down next to hers.
“Then I hope your ghosts don’t mind that I’m here,” he said, encouraged by her laugh.
“I’m the one who pays the bills around here, so they’ll just have to deal with it,” she said, and she smiled at him expectantly.
The last time they’d been together, he had the help of a little too much alcohol in his system when he kissed her. Now, he was downright nervous.
She’d been correct earlier; he’d been on some dates in Savannah, and women flirted with him all the time. But he was always so careful to keep things cordial and distant.
He didn’t know what happened with Fiona, but those boundaries had gotten all messed up. And here he was, hanging on by some kind of thin thread – he had no idea what would happen if it broke, but he had a concerned feeling he was about to find out.
Porter scooted closer and slid a hand onto her cheek. “Fiona,” he said, as if he was about to say more, but instead, he moved his hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her into a sweet, deliberate kiss. He was holding on to any remaining restraint for dear life, because he had to be careful. There were still unknowns between them, and those unknowns went beyond the rental space.
Both of them were guarded. Both of them knew it.
She deepened the kiss, and his breath hitched as he shifted.
“Is this a horrible idea?” she asked, pausing just a second before pulling him to her again.
“It could be,” he said breathlessly. “I don’t care.”
“Me neither,” she said, and moved so she was on his lap.
It had felt like torture, he thought. Those weeks he spent watching her laughing with Sergio, or ignoring him, or only referring to him as ‘boss.’ And he had tried his very best to pretend it didn’t affect him, but it did.
And now, she was here, in his arms, and he wasn’t willing to hide it anymore.