Chapter 10
Victoria
Dinner is wonderful. We spend close to three hours enjoying a bottle of wine, appetizers, a three-course meal, and then an after-dinner drink.
We talk about anything and everything, almost like no time has passed since our last date.
Except it’s been four long years of living our lives separately.
There’s so much to catch up on, but it’s not hard.
In fact, being together is as easy as it ever was.
We’ve grown, changed, and experienced a lot of life this time but we’re fundamentally the same two people who fell in love at first sight. Part of me wants to say it’s my imagination, me finally back with the only guy I’ve ever loved.
But it doesn’t feel like my imagination.
And when he takes my hand and leads me down to the beach after dinner, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I kick off my high-heeled sandals and hold them in my free hand as we traipse through the sand toward the water.
It’s dark now but still warm and there’s light coming from the restaurants along the water.
“It’s beautiful here,” I say, moving closer to him as we walk.
“I guess you still love the beach,” he says.
“Yup. I don’t get down here as often as I’d like but I try to.”
“Two of my teammates married professional surfers, although Scarlett is retired now. Anyway, she and her friend Tawny own a surf shop up in Cocoa Beach. We spend a lot of time up there. Surfing, hanging out at the beach, supporting the store.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It is.”
“You still learning to play guitar?” I ask.
“I’m pretty good now,” he responds. “I’ll have to play for you sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
We amble along the shore, far enough from the water to keep from getting wet but close enough to enjoy the waves crashing onto the sand.
“I don’t know what to do now,” I say as we walk.
“You mean with us?”
“Yes.”
“I know. I’m having the same problem.”
“Sneaking around feels ridiculous. Going public means a whole lot of aggravation before we have any idea where this is going. I know we touched upon this before, but the truth is, I’ve missed you. I don’t know how else to say it.”
“I missed you too.” We stop walking, and he turns me so I’m facing him. He looks down into my eyes and then reaches out to put his hands on either side of my face. “There have been other women, I can’t lie about that, but you’re the only one who ever meant more than a good time.”
“Same for me,” I whisper.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a long time before he slowly lowers his head. His lips find mine gently and it’s like coming home. My arms slide up, winding around his neck while he pulls me against his chest.
At first, it’s a sweet game, nuzzling and nipping, keeping it chaste as we get reacquainted. His breath is warm against my mouth, and I melt into his embrace. I’ve dreamed about being in his arms again hundreds of times over the years, but reality is so much better.
“Jordan.” His name comes out in a breathy whisper, and his eyes open as he looks deep into mine.
“Right here, baby.” When he captures my lips this time, it’s possessive and hungry. He doesn’t rush but when the tip of his tongue meets mine, a fire is ignited. My skin heats, every nerve ending coming alive, and my mouth opens for him.
Our tongues clash together urgently, twisting and twirling in a sensual dance.
No one has ever kissed me like Jordan.
I dig my fingers into his hair, holding him close, desperate for more, as if this will never be enough. Because it won’t. I could never get enough of him in the past, and nothing has changed. The moment Jordan Palmer touches me, I’m a goner.
We kiss for a long time, the breeze blowing around us, moonlight illuminating the water. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world, and when we finally break apart, I know he feels it too.
“Fuck, but you’re sweet,” he says gruffly.
I rest my head against his chest and his arms close around me.
“I never want to move,” I whisper.
“I don’t want you to.” He kisses the top of my head. “I think we have to slow down, though.”
“I know.”
He pulls away slightly and lifts my chin. “I’m not playing games. I just want both of us to be safe. And you know what I mean by that.”
“I do.”
My father.
His hockey career.
How busy we both are.
We have a lot at stake, and this could go wrong in so many ways.
“I don’t want to think about all that, though,” I say. “I just want to…be with you. Spend time together. Figure out who we are as adults. If we’re still the same two kids who fell in love or if maybe we’ve outgrown what we thought was love at eighteen.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow touching you,” he murmurs.
“Same.” I smile up at him. “You got me all hot and bothered, Mr. Palmer.”
He moves my hand to his crotch, where there’s no mistaking his arousal. “Ditto.”
I playfully cup his erection, giving it a gentle squeeze, before moving my hand.
“There’s a game tomorrow night,” he says as we start to walk back toward the restaurant. “You want to go?”
I hesitate.
“What?” he asks.
“You know what.” I dip my head.
“Just for a little while,” he says gently. “Until we find our footing.”
I hate it but he’s right.
“I work tomorrow night anyway,” I admit. “If I have more notice, sometimes I can work something out with my boss, but it’s probably better not to do it too often.”
“How about you come over to the house after work?” he suggests. “Just for an hour or two. The game will be over by ten unless we run into overtime. Assuming we don’t, I should be home by 11:30 at the latest. If there’s anyone I’d like you to meet, it’s Chloe. And she and Jude won’t say anything.”
“I’m done by ten, but I can always stick around at work, start making next week’s schedule. I have to do it this week anyway. There’s always something for me to do once there are no customers in the store.”
“Perfect. So, I’ll text you the address when I’m leaving.”
“Okay.”
Intellectually, I know we need to go slow.
Emotionally, it’s frustrating.
He takes my hand again and we make our way through the restaurant and back to the valet. He takes the ticket from me, gets both tickets validated, and then tips the guy who brings up my Toyota.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jordan whispers, pressing his lips to mine before I slide into the driver’s seat.
“See you then.” I wave before putting the car in gear and pulling out into traffic.
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be with him.
Safe. Secure. A little spoiled.
It’s not about the money, though that part is nice too, but more about how attentive he is.
He’s not like other guys I’ve dated, who wouldn’t have given a second thought to tipping the valet for me.
He understands without me having to explain that fancy dinner and tips for a valet aren’t in my budget.
I never have to ask or tell him what I need in that regard.
Obviously, I can afford a few bucks for a valet, but that’s not the point.
It’s about his thoughtfulness. The way he always prioritizes me and my needs. The way I never have to worry about anything when we’re together.
That’s why I fell in love with him. Even as a na?ve seventeen-year-old, I knew there was something special about Jordan. He wasn’t pawing me, immediately trying to get in my pants. He was generous with time and money, both of which are important.
When push came to shove, we both let each other down, but somehow, we’re getting another chance. I don’t know what that means or where it’s going to go but it feels too good to ignore.
And I don’t want to.