Another Shot At Love (8 page)

I tilted my head and gazed up at him. Maybe all the good ones in this city weren’t gone yet.

“Okay then. But remember, when you wake up with nightmares tonight, you’re the one who asked to be informed.”

He opened the door to the restaurant and said, “This ought to be interesting.”

Chapter Four

We talked for hours, about college and work, travel and art. I didn’t have much to add to the traveling conversation, but he did. He’d been everywhere and I loved listening to him describe the backpacking trip in Europe and his climb to the top of Machu Picchu. Before I knew it, the bar was closed and I’d been out too late for a Thursday night.

I didn’t know what I was doing, flirting shamelessly with this stranger, but it was exciting and it felt
good
. I didn’t want the night to end. Without meaning to, I’d developed a little crush. He probably knew it and I didn’t care—the alcohol was to blame. He was intelligent and funny and interested in art. He’d grown up on a farm not far from the city, but I had a hard time picturing him in a pair of cowboy boots or a hat.

What I liked the most was how he listened. In one evening I’d summarized my entire screwed up relationship with Brent, my sisters’ insistence on setting me up with a date for the engagement party, and every single crappy date I’d been on in the last month. And for some reason, Matt wanted to hear about it all. I would have left out most of the details, but he’d asked for them. I kept glancing at his ring finger, wondering how this man hadn’t been snatched up already. It made no sense to me how someone like him was walking around without a wife attached to the hip. Apparently, I’d underestimated Lincoln’s bachelor potential.

Throughout the evening I’d talked too loudly, laughed obnoxiously, and had more fun with him than I’d had in very long time. Why hadn’t Catherine found someone like Matt to set me up with? Someone who made me dizzy just being near him?

Outside, it was warm and the wind had died down to a gentle breeze—the humidity gone with the sunset. We sat on a bench in front of the bar; a few stragglers remained, talking together nearby. I could hear a word here and there, mostly baseball stats and pro players I wasn’t familiar with. A car pulled to the curb and the group piled into the sedan, peeling away into the night, leaving Matt and me alone until our cab showed up. I liked how responsible he was, which was a nice change from the men I’d dated in the past who would have insisted on driving me home no matter if we’d had one beer or six.

The cab appeared around the corner down the street, and Matt stood as the car slowed to a stop at the curb. He held the cab door open and stood aside as I climbed in and set my purse on the other side of me. I could have set my purse between us on the seat, but I didn’t. I lifted it out of the way, wanting to feel the warmth of his body beside mine.

He draped his arm around the back of the seat and I gravitated to his side while my heart slammed against my chest, drowning out the country music on the radio. I struggled to keep my emotions in check and kept my eyes forward on the road as the cab zipped through the quiet streets toward my apartment.

I needed to cool it. The thoughts running through my head weren’t PG-13, and I blamed it on Roxanna. She’d made it sound okay—simple—to sleep with a man without any emotional strings attached, and now it was all I could think about. Matt wasn’t looking for serious, I wasn’t looking for serious. It was perfect.
He
was perfect.

And you are drunk
, I reminded myself.

Until now, I had never in my life considered a one night stand. There were butterflies in my stomach going wild and I folded my hands into my lap, afraid of what I might do with them if I left them free to roam. What I wanted to do was cup Matt’s face and pull him in for a hot, sloppy kiss.

What if this were the last night I’d ever see him? Lincoln was pretty big; it wasn’t likely I’d run into him on the street. What if fate had other plans for the both of us? What if I would be haunted for the rest of my life about not kissing the most gorgeous man I’d ever met?

My heart continued to knock against my ribcage while my hormones warred with my conscience. I kept glancing sideways at him; my nerves kept my tongue tied. He probably wondered why I was suddenly quiet when I’d been a chatterbox all night. I had to break eye contact because the gravitational pull toward his lips was too intense—my willpower was slowly crumbling. The air inside the cab grew stuffy and my hands were clammy, but there was nothing to wipe them on.

It’s just one kiss!!!
I told myself.
You aren’t proposing, he’s not proposing. Get a grip, seriously!

But I couldn’t get a grip. I was suddenly an indecisive mess and the time to take action slipped away as the cab drew closer to my apartment with each passing second. I wouldn’t kiss him in the backseat of this cab. How tacky would that be? So I kept my hands clasped tightly in my lap to keep from touching him. I kept my eyes on the view out the windshield.

I wasn’t even tipsy anymore. Well, not
as
tipsy. Not when my nerves were on edge like this. And I was horny. I crossed my legs and shifted away from him, which was hard to do with his arm was draped over my shoulders instead of the backseat.

You’re not nervous because of a kiss, you’re nervous because you want to rip his clothes off.

It was outrageous, what I was considering—taking him up to my apartment when I’d only just met him a few hours ago. The mental images made me lightheaded. I worried he knew exactly the thoughts crashing through my mind. If he had even the slightest suspicion…

Oh God, what if he thinks I’m a slut???!!!

That did it. I definitely was
not
coming on to this guy. It didn’t matter that I wanted to find out how soft his lips would feel against mine. And it sure as hell didn’t matter that my panties were wet.

No way will I let this gorgeous man go anywhere thinking that I, Imogen Mae Gorecki, am a slut.

I steeled my shoulders, squeezed my legs together and told myself to quit acting like some sex crazed teenager on a mission to lose her virginity.

The cab stopped at the curb in front of the four-plex apartment building where I lived, and Matt opened the door and got out. I took his offered hand and stepped out beside him on the street, and said, “My apartment is around the corner, top floor.”

I rubbed my arms; the goose bumps had nothing to do with the temperature outside. It was beautiful out. The warm breeze normally would have soothed me but I was a hot mess right then. The lawn was lit up by the street lamps casting a yellow glow on us. Most of the apartments in the complex were dark inside, but a few windows shined bright with lights from inside. If it were my apartment, I’d have the curtains drawn.

Matt knocked on the passenger window and waited for the driver to roll it down. Leaning toward the window, Matt said, “I’ll be just a minute. I’m going to walk her to the door.”

“I’ll keep the meter running,” the driver said, annoyed at the inconvenience.

Matt ignored him and turned to me. “Shall we?”

“You really don’t need to walk me to my door,” I said, giddy he’d chosen to. It would give me a few more minutes with him. The night was quiet except for the crickets chirping.

“It’s not a problem. I’m happy to.” He smiled down at me, that ridiculously adorable boyish half smile. “I was raised better than to make a girl walk home alone.”

And he’s charming, too,
I mused as I stepped onto the wood deck steps leading up to my apartment with Matt close behind.

This guy was measuring up to be the very essence of what I considered Mr. Perfect to be. I had to concentrate on taking the steps up to the second floor patio I wouldn’t fall. At the top of the steps, I smiled nervously at him under the dim light of my porch lamp. The bulb needed to be replaced, its light offering little more than a dull, sickly glow of yellow while I dug through my purse for my keys.

“You really should change that light bulb,” Matt said, glancing around us.

“I know,” I said, pushing aside my wallet to dig to the bottom of my oversized purse. “I kind of take for granted that this is supposed to be a safe neighborhood.”

“Until an alien abducts you off your poorly lit porch.”

“Very funny.” I glanced up from my purse with a smile. “But really, it’s late. You could have been home by now.”

“Gen, I’m glad to walk you to your door. I would have worried about you if I hadn’t.”

I considered him as we stood there on my porch, the light flickering above us. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t know how to ask him to stay. Maybe I could ask him in for a drink, though I’d already had enough. But I had those cupcakes…

Yeah. I could offer him cupcakes. They weren’t chocolate with sprinkles, but yellow cake with milk chocolate frosting had to be a close second. Hadn’t he said a cupcake will fix everything?

“I’m really glad we went out tonight.”

His voice made me jump and I dropped the keys. We both bent to pick them up at the same time and bumped foreheads.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” I clasped my forehead and laughed. Probably, I sounded hysterical. Like a rabid hyena. I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I took the keys from him. “Thanks for inviting me. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” he said.

I put the key into the lock, taking my time turning it as I struggled with what to do about him. It didn’t take me long to unlock the door, so I took my time sliding the patio door open. But, that didn’t take long, either, and I hesitated in the doorway, still unsure. I opened my mouth to ask him in, but nothing came out. So I stepped backward through the doorway, not taking my eyes off of his. After a moment, he followed me inside, part of his face lost in the shadows.

Time stood still. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, and I lifted up onto my toes as he lowered his head to meet me halfway. The smell of his cologne surrounded me and my eyes drifted shut. He grasped me loosely around my back, pulling me close, sending shivers through my body. His breath caressed my skin, his lips just a whisper away from mine, and my lips parted.

HONK, HONK!!!

My eyes snapped open and I jumped from Matt’s embrace. He raked a hand through his dark hair, pressing his lips together while I trembled with what I’d been about to do.

I couldn’t let it go, pretend the moment had come and gone—I was running on the most intense high and it was all because of Matt, this darkly handsome guy who made me feel alive and sexy. I’d never been so turned on in my life. The heat between my thighs threatened to ignite while I imagined his hands all over my body.

“Oh, what the hell,” I said and threw myself into his arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. We were both breathless as his lips devoured mine, kissing me with a passion I hadn’t expected. The satin caress of his tongue against mine, the taste of him, made my knees weak. The thrill coursing through my body was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Maybe it was because I’d only just met him and suddenly I was in this romantic, forbidden lip lock. Maybe it was because the man knew how to kiss,
really kiss
. It didn’t matter. What I wanted to do was wrap my legs around his waist and press myself against him, feel him inside of me. My body trembled with excitement and need, and the idea of living in the moment didn’t feel wrong anymore.

I wasn’t sure how long we embraced, kissing with reckless abandon in my kitchen, but the cab honked again and I slowly detached myself from his embrace.

“I should go,” he said, his voice gruff. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks, as if waiting for me to say something.

I can still ask him to stay.

But I didn’t.

“I’ll, um, see you then.” I swallowed back the frustration at myself.
I’m officially a chicken-shit.

He gazed at me through the dark, nothing but silence between us. I feared, irrationally, he could hear the pounding of my heart. I wished I could tell what he was thinking. He seemed about to say something, but I thought perhaps it was my imagination. Maybe I just wanted him to struggle over whether or not he should leave. If he asked to stay, I wouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t sound desperate or slutty; I would just be a woman considering a man’s question. And I’d accept, of course.

Finally, he said, “Good night, Gen.”

He swept a lock of hair off my check, and my skin tingled from his touch. He flashed one last lopsided smile, one more glimpse of dimples, and then he was gone. I stood there for a few minutes longer, my fingers touched to my lips as I stared blindly into a starless, black night.

Chapter Five

By day, I was a Claims Data Entry Specialist for Bradshaw Insurance, though there wasn’t anything nothing special or interesting about the job. My days were pretty monotonous, but I didn’t mind. It really wasn’t brain-bashing to enter medical claims into a database two hundred fifty times a day—two hundred and ninety-one times if I wanted to meet my departmental goals, which I hardly ever did. The flexible schedule and the fact I got to listen to audio books while keyboarding really gave me nothing to complain about. It suited me for now.