he is thinking this through. It’s driving
me crazy being close to his body.
“You want more?” I whisper, trying to get him to say
something.
“Do you?”
He answers with a question. It’s annoying. “I asked you
first,” I reply, not cracking a smile or giving away my heart pounding in my
chest. I can’t look at him any longer. I close my eyes, and silently ask God,
who I’ve ignored for years, to help me.
Then I feel the warmth of his breath approach. He circles my
lips with his and gives me a long, tender kiss. Sweet Jesus. He tastes so
delicious ! I hope the breath mint I popped in my mouth a half hour ago is
still working. Eventually, he pulls away, and I open my eyes.
“Does that answer your question?” His voice is deep and
sexy.
I nod my head. My ability to speak has vanished. What does
he expect? I haven’t been kissed in more years than I care to remember. The
closest I’ve come to a smooch is a lick from my cat and his sandpaper tongue.
“Now, what’s your answer, Rachel? Do you want to be more
than friends and see where this goes?”
I’m not ready for this, and I know it. Old fears shroud me
in doubt as he gently holds me. Yes, I want him. Who wouldn’t want him?
Handsome, strong, intelligent, kind, and the list goes on. I can’t believe,
though, that anyone like him would want me. Maybe he wants in my
pants, and he’s trying to figure out if I’m an easy lay. That’s it.
“It frightens me,” I whisper.
“Why?” His eyes narrow.
“Just does.”
“I like you, Rachel, a lot. You probably get that by now.”
He smiles. “The moment you lifted your head off that steering wheel and turned
and looked at me, something clicked inside. Can’t explain it.”
“I like you, too, Ian. Does this mean you want to date me or
something?”
He grins. “Yeah, something like that,” he says, giving me an
endearing look, which melts my heart. “Come on, let’s get back to the car.”
He turns me around, and I inhale a deep breath. Yes! This
guy wants to date me , I scream inside with glee . A silly grin
plasters across my face and stays there the entire way down the mountain until
my cheeks hurt. God, this really can’t be happening to me.
Even though I feel elated, my fears are standing by the
sidelines ready to snatch the emotion away. I wish they’d back off and take my
insecurities with them. My smile fades by the time we make it back to the SUV,
and a foreboding feeling grabs my tummy.
“You want to get a bite to eat in the lodge?” He’s standing
by the car door hesitating.
It’s the dine-with-him offer again. I glance at the lodge
and the memories inside. It’s been so long since I’ve sat inside the stone
walled and wooden beam restaurant.
“Okay, maybe a Coke and a bowl of soup.” If I don’t have
anything solid, I might make it home. Ian looks as if he’s won the lottery,
because I agreed to eat with him. We climb the stairs and a hostess greets us.
“Would you like a table by the window?”
I see there’s an empty table by my favorite spot, and
immediately I blurt out my preference. “How about the table by the fireplace?”
“Yes, of course,” she answers. We’re escorted there, and Ian
pulls out a chair for me. He waits for me to be seated before he takes his. The
menus are put in front of us, and I remember their good brewed coffee.
“Would you like anything to drink?” the hostess asks.
“Coffee.”
“Same for me,” Ian replies.
At last we’re alone and looking at each other across the table.
“Nice place. Too bad the weather is too warm for a fire,” he says, glancing
over at the empty hearth filled with ashes.
“I know. This used to be my favorite table when we drove
down here on fall and winter mornings for breakfast.” I let the word “we” slip
out of my mouth, and immediately I regret the personal leak.
“We who?” He gives me a curious glance.
He picked up on that slip fast. I look at him, and my heart
pounds in my
me crazy being close to his body.
“You want more?” I whisper, trying to get him to say
something.
“Do you?”
He answers with a question. It’s annoying. “I asked you
first,” I reply, not cracking a smile or giving away my heart pounding in my
chest. I can’t look at him any longer. I close my eyes, and silently ask God,
who I’ve ignored for years, to help me.
Then I feel the warmth of his breath approach. He circles my
lips with his and gives me a long, tender kiss. Sweet Jesus. He tastes so
delicious ! I hope the breath mint I popped in my mouth a half hour ago is
still working. Eventually, he pulls away, and I open my eyes.
“Does that answer your question?” His voice is deep and
sexy.
I nod my head. My ability to speak has vanished. What does
he expect? I haven’t been kissed in more years than I care to remember. The
closest I’ve come to a smooch is a lick from my cat and his sandpaper tongue.
“Now, what’s your answer, Rachel? Do you want to be more
than friends and see where this goes?”
I’m not ready for this, and I know it. Old fears shroud me
in doubt as he gently holds me. Yes, I want him. Who wouldn’t want him?
Handsome, strong, intelligent, kind, and the list goes on. I can’t believe,
though, that anyone like him would want me. Maybe he wants in my
pants, and he’s trying to figure out if I’m an easy lay. That’s it.
“It frightens me,” I whisper.
“Why?” His eyes narrow.
“Just does.”
“I like you, Rachel, a lot. You probably get that by now.”
He smiles. “The moment you lifted your head off that steering wheel and turned
and looked at me, something clicked inside. Can’t explain it.”
“I like you, too, Ian. Does this mean you want to date me or
something?”
He grins. “Yeah, something like that,” he says, giving me an
endearing look, which melts my heart. “Come on, let’s get back to the car.”
He turns me around, and I inhale a deep breath. Yes! This
guy wants to date me , I scream inside with glee . A silly grin
plasters across my face and stays there the entire way down the mountain until
my cheeks hurt. God, this really can’t be happening to me.
Even though I feel elated, my fears are standing by the
sidelines ready to snatch the emotion away. I wish they’d back off and take my
insecurities with them. My smile fades by the time we make it back to the SUV,
and a foreboding feeling grabs my tummy.
“You want to get a bite to eat in the lodge?” He’s standing
by the car door hesitating.
It’s the dine-with-him offer again. I glance at the lodge
and the memories inside. It’s been so long since I’ve sat inside the stone
walled and wooden beam restaurant.
“Okay, maybe a Coke and a bowl of soup.” If I don’t have
anything solid, I might make it home. Ian looks as if he’s won the lottery,
because I agreed to eat with him. We climb the stairs and a hostess greets us.
“Would you like a table by the window?”
I see there’s an empty table by my favorite spot, and
immediately I blurt out my preference. “How about the table by the fireplace?”
“Yes, of course,” she answers. We’re escorted there, and Ian
pulls out a chair for me. He waits for me to be seated before he takes his. The
menus are put in front of us, and I remember their good brewed coffee.
“Would you like anything to drink?” the hostess asks.
“Coffee.”
“Same for me,” Ian replies.
At last we’re alone and looking at each other across the table.
“Nice place. Too bad the weather is too warm for a fire,” he says, glancing
over at the empty hearth filled with ashes.
“I know. This used to be my favorite table when we drove
down here on fall and winter mornings for breakfast.” I let the word “we” slip
out of my mouth, and immediately I regret the personal leak.
“We who?” He gives me a curious glance.
He picked up on that slip fast. I look at him, and my heart
pounds in my
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