Bent not Broken (354 page)

I am in New York City…with Chris King.
This is amazing! This is crazy! This is wonderful! I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here!
My mind pulled me in different directions.

Chris held onto me, sighing into my hair, and I froze. It was like the day he left Fairbanks. I remembered his arms around me as I’d buried my head in his chest. I remembered the ache I’d had for a long while after he’d left. Now years had passed, and he was standing here in front of me. It was the most exhilarating feeling, but at the same time it frightened me. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but I knew I’d enjoy this weekend with Chris as if it were my last.

We walked into the quaint little store. I felt like I had stepped off the busy streets of New York and into a stunning mosaic of stained glass chandeliers. Lots of mismatched, eccentric light fixtures hung above the tiny round tables. Knick-knacks filled the shelves. It almost reminded me of Clyde’s General Store back home with the food counter in the back.

“I feel a little overdressed for this place,” I admitted.

“You look amazing.” He dismissed my worries, looking me up and down. “Besides, you need a fancy dress to match the Golden Opulence Sundae.”

“The what?” I cocked my head in confusion.

He smiled with a hint of mischief. “The Golden Opulence Sundae. It’s a very special sundae made with Tahitian vanilla beans. People say it’s like an orgasm in a bowl.”

Orgasm in a bowl?
I blushed by the way Chris was looking at me. “That good, huh?”

“I guess we’ll see,” he grinned.

The server brought us the sundae and placed it in the middle of the table. “Thank you for choosing Serendipity 3 for your special occasion. Please enjoy the edible golden leaf as well as the gold-covered almonds. The Amedei Porcelana chocolate is to die for as well. You’re in for a real treat.” The look she gave us made me wonder if this wasn’t a sundae they served often.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Chris said as he lifted the spoon.

She smiled at him as if she recognized him, but didn’t say anything else. I supposed living in New York City where celebrities were a commodity, seeing someone like Chris King was no big deal.

“Real gold?” I whispered, leaning across the table toward Chris.

He nodded, impressed himself. “Twenty-three karats, they say.”

I looked at the gold-plated nuts in the bowl, grimacing, but with a hint of curiosity. “You can really eat those?”

“I guess so. Try one.” He spooned out one of the almonds, offering it to me.

I shook my head. “You first.”

He shrugged and popped it in his mouth. It crunched loudly in his mouth. “Hmmm, crunchy…nutty…delicious.” Grabbing another one, he tossed it in, too. “Better grab one,” he warned.

I took my chances. How often did one get to eat twenty-three karat, gold-covered almonds? Sure enough, they were exactly as Chris described them.

Before long, we were both slurping the ice cream off our spoons. The Tahitian vanilla was also just as Chris described it—absolutely delectable.

In fact, I’m pretty sure my taste buds trembled with exhilarating aftershocks, bite after bite.

Chris watched me licking up the creamy Tahitian goodness from my spoon, grinning. “I guess the people were right,” he said. “I don’t think my taste buds have ever felt this good, and apparently your mouth is experiencing its own little orgasm over there.” I could have sworn I saw him shudder slightly.

“So, how is the sundae?” the server asked with a knowing smile. She knew. She knew exactly the sensation my mouth was experiencing. I wondered if she felt like a voyeur watching people enjoy themselves over a bowl of pure perfection drizzled with chocolate excellence.

“It’s more than fantastic,” Chris replied.

Amused, the server said, “I’m glad you think so. Many of the ingredients are flown in from different parts of the world. That’s why we ask for a forty-eight hour notice.”

I glanced at Chris. He’d put notice in for this thing? “What would you have done if I hadn’t come to visit you this weekend?” I asked.

“I guess I’d be enjoying this bad boy all by myself,” he said with a sly grin, “and I’d have to name it ‘masturbation with a spoon’ instead.”

Laughing, I envisioned him savoring this exquisite delicacy alone. I felt jealous as I imagined his tongue enjoying this kind of sweet ecstasy all by itself. In retaliation, I scooped up the last bite of ice cream and shoved my spoon in my mouth before he had a chance to protest. I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes while my taste buds relished the last lingering moment of sublimity. When it was over, I opened my eyes and leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. With a satisfied smile, I whispered, “That was amazing…thank you.”

The wide-eyed look on Chris’s face was priceless.

****

CHRIS

Damn, that was hot.

I’d watched her as her eyes rolled back in her head, enjoying the moment. Her tongue had flicked out and licked her full, pink lips. I had to curb my desire to lean across the table and kiss her. A jolt of adrenaline had shot through my body as I watched the muscles of her throat constrict, quietly moaning while she…swallowed.

She looked at me with that deliciously sinister gaze and I could feel the blood rush from my face, heading south.

“Uh…you’re welcome,” I stammered.
Jesus, you sound like an idiot.
I attempted to change the subject. “So, uh, have you ever been to a Broadway show before?”

“No.” She shook her head, her eyes sparkling. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

I rubbed my palms together eagerly. “Well, tonight’s your lucky night.” I didn’t realize the weight of my words until they were already out of my mouth.
Shit.

“Really? You’re serious? Oh my gosh!” She covered her mouth then asked, “Which show?”

I grinned. “Phantom of the Opera.” I’d taken a guess when I got the tickets, hoping she hadn’t already seen it. The website boasted that it was the longest running Broadway show to date, so I figured why not see a classic.

“I’ve always wanted to see that show!” She looked like she was about to faint with pleasure, and it had me wondering what else could make her do that.

I wasn’t entirely thrilled to sit through those ridiculously long hours of singing and dancing, but I’d gladly do it with her. Maybe in the spring she’d return the favor and accompany me to a Yankees game.
Listen to yourself. You’re already thinking six months ahead.

Suddenly, I blurted, “Do you like the Yankees?”

“Like them?” she asked wide-eyed, feigning shock. “I
love
them. Derek Jeter…he’s…”

She finished her sentence, but I didn’t hear it.

All I heard was my heart shouting,
Will you marry me?

But my brain kept my heart in check.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, dumbass.

“Maybe in the spring I can take you to a game,” I suggested, grinning like an idiot.
Who are you?
I asked myself, disgusted that I’d found myself dropping my guard so easily.

She beamed at me, and I felt like I was about to melt to the fucking floor. “I’d love that,” she said excitedly.

“Great.” I nodded and turned away before this girl turned me into a puddle. “You ready to reach the point of no return?” I joked, using the title of a song from the show, a little something I’d picked up from the website where I’d ordered the tickets.

She reached out and touched my hand. “That’s all I ask of you,” she sang in return, using my own joke against me.

I laughed, shocked by how easy and comfortable I felt around her, as she was with me.

What was it about her smile that sent a bolt of lightning through my fucking heart?

I stood up, holding out my arm for her. She linked her arm with mine, and I escorted her from the quaint little restaurant, feeling a burst of pride for the beautiful woman I had by my side.

****

“You look stunning, by the way,” I told her softly, as we walked down the aisles of the theater toward our seats. “I know I told you at the airport, but I just thought you deserved to hear it again.”

“Thank you,” she purred, just before I caught her gaze. It took everything within me not to reach up and touch her blushing cheeks.

It was crazy how not so long ago I was still pining over Kaitlyn. Now, I hadn’t thought of her in…
Shit, how long has it been?
I couldn’t even remember.

After years of musical success under my belt, I was starting to feel this gnawing edge of something missing. Over the years women had come and gone, but none had quite made an impact like Salem had. I worried that if I pursued what I was feeling that things would change between us…that things wouldn’t be the same as they were so many years ago, or as they were now. I valued this friendship that we seemed to be making and I didn’t want to fuck that up. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny this overwhelming attraction I had for her, or these crazy as hell feelings I felt for her. And if I were being honest with myself, I wasn’t sure I
wanted
to deny them.

I cautiously snaked my arm around her waist as we made our way to our seats. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds or push things too quickly. Thankfully, she curled into me, and for a moment I considered ditching the show to take her back to my hotel room, but I had more respect for her than that.

This woman made me think and do things I had never considered or done before. Hell, I was about to sit through a two and a half hour show that I cared absolutely nothing about just to see her fucking smile.

We took our seats close to the front. I was lucky to pull a little weight and at the right price, score a couple of seats, front and center. I wanted this night to be perfect for her.

“I’m so excited,” she whispered as the lights dimmed. Her smile lit up her whole face, and I saw a glimpse of what she must’ve looked like as a little girl. It almost made me sad as I wondered what it would’ve been like to know her then—to know her before she attached herself to that piece-of-shit husband and wasted all those great years on him.

Sitting back into the velvet-covered seat, I watched her for the whole first act. I don’t think she noticed because her eyes were glued to the stage. Every smile, every blink, every frown. I saw it all. And as the first tear fell, I reached out to her and grazed a thumb across the back of her hand. She sniffled and gave me a timid half-grin.

Two words came to mind.
Worth it.
Every second spent in those two and half hours was worth it.

Chapter Twenty

SALEM

I lay in bed that night thinking of the possibilities and chiding myself for the crazy feelings bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. I tried to stuff them down—the warm, fuzzy emotions.
These feelings are wrong
, I argued with myself.

But, the feelings were real. And if I wasn’t mistaken he was feeling them too. I saw the way he looked at me. I was so confused. I didn’t know what to do.
Why did I come here? What was I thinking?
You’re here because you like him, and you know it, Salem!

I drifted off to sleep, trying to convince myself otherwise.

The next morning I awoke to a knock on the door.

“Room service,” a female voice called.

I jumped up and grabbed the robe off the hook on the door, sliding my arms into the sleeves and tying a knot in the belt.

I opened the door to a cart full of silver domed plates. A friendly smile greeted me. “Breakfast, ma’am,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said.

The worker rolled the cart into my room. “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?”

I looked at the abundance of items on the cart. “No, thank you.” I quickly looked around the room for my purse. Grabbing it off the chair, I reached into my wallet for a tip.

“Oh, no ma’am. Mr. King has the tip covered. Thank you. Please ring the front desk when you’re finished with your meal. I will come and get the cart.”

“Oh okay,” I nodded. “Well, thank you very much…” I said, looking at her name tag, “Juanita.”

She smiled, “You’re very welcome, ma’am.”

I followed Juanita to the door, and held it open for her as she left. A few doors down I heard her stop by one of the rooms where some ladies where busy changing sheets and replacing towels. I could hear their indistinct chatter echoing down the hall. I clicked the remote to turn on the television.

An envelope was placed beside a single rose in a vase on the cart, and I smiled at the endearing gesture. I hadn’t had a rose given to me in years. I opened the envelope and inside was a note from Chris.

Salem, I had an amazing night with you last night. Let’s continue to make the weekend memorable. Meet me downstairs at 9:30am. I can’t wait to spend the day with you. -C

PS -Wear some comfortable walking shoes.

Yay!
My mind screamed, but I bit my lip to keep an actual squeal from coming out. Thank goodness I had thrown a pair of sneakers into my suitcase at the last minute. I glanced at the clock.
8:15am
. I had a little over an hour to eat and get ready to meet Chris. Suddenly, my stomach turned into a fluttery kaleidoscope of butterflies.

I wolfed down my breakfast even though I felt too jittery to feel hunger pangs. But, if we were going to be doing a lot of walking I’d need to eat something to keep my energy level up. I called the front desk, and Juanita knocked on the door within minutes.

“Thanks again,” I told her. “Breakfast was delicious.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your day,” she said slyly, with a knowing look.

I nodded, unable to hide my giddiness. “I’m sure I will.” Having finally given into the feelings I couldn’t deny, I felt a newfound freedom in expressing them.

I quickly showered, chose a cute outfit that paired nicely with my sneakers, and headed down the stairs to meet Chris. Typing it as I walked, I texted Alexis to tell her I hoped she’d have a great day at volleyball camp and that I’d see her tomorrow. She responded with a smiley. I knew she was probably having a blast and barely missed me.