Chapter Six

LEWIS HAD DATED a lot of women in his adult life. Too many really. None of them, though, were like Susan. Granted, that was the point, but never had he thought that different would be so interesting.

They were on their way home, still in character, as it were. He had his arm slung across the back seat while Susan sat close to his side. Not overly close, and certainly not draped across his lap like a lot of his dates. Susan was far too classy for that kind of behavior.

Susan was a lot of things. She was smart and sophisticated, not to mention perceptive. When he had freaked out, she’d known exactly what to say.

An odd experience, it was, being understood. When she touched his hand, the warmth shot straight through him, the sensation simultaneously comforting and terrifying.

He wasn’t used to sharing pieces of himself. Better to maintain distance, he always said. It made leaving easier. With Susan, however—and maybe it was because they were so alike—with Susan, sharing felt normal.

The car turned a corner. In spite of the late hour, there were plenty of lights on. Some of the windows already had candles and in one or two, he spied Christmas trees. “Early birds,” he murmured.

“Who are early birds?” Susan asked. When she turned to look at him, he caught a whiff of vanilla shampoo. Reminded him of cookies.

“The trees,” he replied. “Some people already have theirs up. They’re early birds.”

“Probably the same people who start playing Christmas music the day after Halloween and have their shopping done a month early.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you aren’t one of those people.”

“Definitely not.” Even in the dark he could see her eyes widen in horror. Whether she realized it or not, her little protest had shifted her closer to him. Her shoulder brushed against the edge of his coat. “No shopping until December first. That’s my rule.”

Lewis looked at his watch. “Good news then. You can start officially start shopping. It’s after midnight.”

“Huzzah! I’ll fire up my computer as soon as I get home.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” Unable to help himself, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed, pulling her body into the crook of his arm as he did so. He liked that she was huggable. When you pulled her close, her body was warm and comfortable. The kind of body built for cuddling.

He’d never been one for cuddling before.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight,” he said. “You were brilliant.”

Despite the shadows, he could feel she was blushing. “I told you before, you played as big a part in convincing Montclark as I did. If you really want to thank someone, thank the waiter.”

“Man’s timing was impeccable.” It was Susan, though, who made him feel confident. “I don’t think I would have made it through the entire party if you hadn’t been there to talk me off the ledge.”

“Don’t be silly. You righted yourself all on your own,” she said.

Perhaps, but her gentle reassurance was what had kept him righted from that moment on. “The stories you shared…”

Her gaze fell away. “Who knew sharing my childhood angst would be so powerful?”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” They both knew the real meaning behind her story. She’d peeled back a layer of herself to let him know he wasn’t alone. That she, in her own way, understood how it felt to be on the outside looking in.

For as long as he could remember, he’d been left of center.

Separate and alone, even when surrounded by people.

Oh, he put on a good face, but in the end that’s all it was, a face.

Even when he was part of a team, he never truly felt a sense of solidarity.

Why bother when you were only going to move on?

But tonight, he didn’t feel alone. He and Susan were a team. The idea was headier than anything he ever felt. It took his breath away, and at the same time, scared him. He didn’t do close. He did self-preservation.

Regardless, she deserved to know just how much her honesty meant to him. “All that stuff I told you tonight…” He chose his words carefully in case the driver was listening. “I’ve never told anyone before.”

Her breath caught, and a second later her head came to rest on his shoulder. “Me neither,” she said.

“Your apartment is right ahead, miss,” the driver said.

His announcement was a switch, ending the moment. Almost immediately, the two of them straightened, with Susan shifting one way and Lewis the other. The gap that formed was imperceptible, but Lewis’s side grew cooler nevertheless.

He busied himself with watching the traffic while Susan fiddled with her bag and the driver parallel parked.

“Tonight was fun.”

At the sound of Susan’s voice, he turned his head. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Between this and the basketball game, you’ve set the bar pretty high. Makes me wonder what you’ll come up with next.”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

The driver opened the door, and they stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Should I wait?” the driver asked.

“I… No. I’ll be right back,” he replied. “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Ignoring what looked like a flash of disappointment flaring in Susan’s eyes, Lewis guided her up the walkway to the red door marking the entrance to her apartment building. “If you give me your keys, I’ll open the door for you.”

“I think I can handle a key,” she replied before reaching into her bag and pulling out a large key ring. “It’s hardly complicated.”

“Yes, but the driver is watching. Since we don’t know if he’ll try to sell us out, I should make a point of unlocking and walking you in the door.”

“Absolutely. We’ve got to keep up appearances, don’t we? However, the front door has a keypad. The lock is for my apartment door.”

There it was again, that distance, and he couldn’t figure out why. Nothing he had said seemed inappropriate. “All right then, why don’t you give me the key code.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh.

As he punched in the numbers, Lewis fought the urge to turn around and check on the driver who might or might not be paying attention.

No sooner had he opened the door, than Susan started over the threshold.

“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist to keep her from disappearing. “I need to kiss you goodnight. The driver might be watching. We want to give him something he can peddle to Lorianne or another columnist.”

“Right,” she replied. “We want to give the right impression.”

Lewis couldn’t tell if the sarcasm in her voice was meant to be humorous or not.

With the shadows obscuring her expression, it was impossible to tell.

It didn’t matter though. Appearances needed to be maintained.

Slipping his arm around her waist, he closed the space between them and kissed her.

Just as he had at the game, he only intended a brief, chaste peck.

The moment his lips touched hers, however, any thought of chaste flew out the window.

Her mouth was made for kissing. Their lips slanted together like links in a chain, Susan’s mouth yielding without urging.

Her head fell back and her body arched against him.

Lewis’s body, still humming with awareness from earlier, reacted immediately.

Pulling her close, he pressed his hips to hers, delivering a deep, soulful kiss while his free hand tangled in her curls.

Susan’s eyes were glazed when they finally broke apart, or so he told himself. Again, he couldn’t see her expression, but since he was dazed, he hoped she was, as well. From one kiss. His body was on full alert now, wanting nothing more than to take her upstairs and continue.

Fortunately common sense had maintained a tenuous grip, and he was able to step back. “Continuing” wasn’t part of their deal.

Taking a breath, he stepped backward again, down to the step below. “Well, that should give the driver some gossip to peddle,” he said.

Hopefully his grin didn’t look as shaky as it felt.

“I think it’s time we slept together.”

Susan tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and nearly dropped her coffee.

It was three weeks into their “relationship,” and they were spending the weekend afternoon Christmas shopping.

Until now, they’d stuck to highly visible social events where their status as a couple was documented by official photographers and social reporters.

Lewis felt the timing was such that they should embark on Step Three of his plan, or what he called “doing coupley things.” His agent said he would tip off the tabloids that the two of them would be spending the day on Regent Street on the off chance they wanted to snag a photo of the budding romance.

At the moment, the only thing they’d snag would be a shot of her staring at him bug-eyed.

“Not literally, obviously,” Lewis said catching her elbow.

No, of course not. Susan focused on adjusting her jacket so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. Sleeping together didn’t involve an audience, and Lewis didn’t initiate any displays of affection unless someone was watching.

How could he turn his emotions on and off like that? All gentle touches and intimate glances in public only to back away the moment they were alone. They’d even taken to stepping inside the doorway of her building to say goodbye so he wouldn’t have to kiss her goodnight.

Clearly she’d been a little too enthusiastic in her response the other night. Honestly, what did he expect though after essentially telling her she was special on the drive home?

Then again, maybe the admission had been for show too. They hadn’t been alone.

Recovering herself, she made a show of taking a sip of coffee. “What would be the point of pretending we’re sleeping together?” she asked. Besides frustrating her.

“Because people expect to see a real relationship move forward. It’s the twenty-first century. People in serious relationships sleep together.”

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