Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (8 page)

“How’s Penny?” I asked when he’d hung up.

“Good. Worried that Brad’s going to give himself a hernia, moving gigantic pieces of furniture around. And she told me to say hi to you when I spoke to you next. So, hi from Penny,” he said.

“What was that about going over there to help with something next Sunday?”

“The former owners painted the kitchen walls sea-foam-green. Penny’s dying. Jer and I are going over to help repaint. Maybe you could come along?”

“That sounds fun. And speaking of,” I said, dragging him over to the bed, “can we? I mean, are we allowed to cuddle now? Or are there more ground rules?”

“How about we use our common sense? After you.” He gestured to the bed.

I threw myself onto the comforter and flapped my arms around as if I was making a snow angel.

“What are you doing, woman?” he asked, perching his knee on the edge of the mattress.

“This bed is huge! I love it!” I scooted up toward the throw pillows and flopped against them. “Ah, this is the life.” I beckoned, and he stretched out beside me, taking my hand and resting our entwined fingers on my stomach. He looked down at me, his eyebrows drawn together.

“What is it, sweet knees?” I asked, rubbing his bare foot with mine.

“Penny asked if I’d seen you since Friday, and I said I hadn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever lied to her before.”

“Why didn’t you tell her I was here?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I wanted to keep this between us. Keep it
for
us.”

I scanned his face. “That’s one of the most wonderful justifications for a lie I’ve ever heard,” I said. “Although, the truth
shall
make you free, Daniel.”

“Oh, don’t start with that. You saw that paperweight?”

“I did. What’s that line from?”

“‘
The truth shall make you free
’? That’s from the Bible. John 8:32. Any guesses who gave me that as a gift?”

“Your dad?”

“You’re a quick study, Miss Price. He gave it to me last year for my birthday. After everything that had happened, he said I needed to remain true to myself and, in the end, everything would work out. I think he was trying to be helpful or inspiring. Most of the time, looking at it makes me think too much.”

“In what way?” I sat up a little.

“Usually it makes me wonder if he really does think I’m lying about what happened at Oxford. Sometimes I get philosophical, thinking about the definition of truth. There’s a big difference between, ‘what is
the
truth’ and ‘what is truth.’ You know what I mean?”

I didn’t have a clue. Maybe if it wasn’t well after ten o’clock on a Sunday night and I wasn’t lying in bed with Daniel, I’d be able to focus on the question.

“You’re hurting my brain.”

“You want a sore brain, try writing my PhD paper.”

“What’s it about?”

He sighed and folded his hands under his head. “In a nutshell, it’s about Jungian individuation in Shakespeare.”

“That’s a heavy topic.”

“It’s fascinating when I’m in a good head space, but crippling when I’m not. I had to walk away from it after the fiasco with Nicola. Then I spent a month re-reading what I’d written before. It was like someone else had written it. It was almost like starting from scratch.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Then I had to prepare it for acceptance here at U of T. Nothing I’d done at Oxford guaranteed I’d get the go-ahead over here.”

“I hate that girl. When I think of the way her false accusations have affected you, it’s…” I shook my head.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Old wounds.”

He held me for a few moments, and we lay there in silence. Then I remembered something.

“Hey, Daniel?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Garrison. Same as my dad’s.”

“That’s a cool name.”

He smiled up at the ceiling. “What’s yours?”

“Lynn.”

“Aubrey Lynn. I like that.”

“Thanks. Okay, what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

He shifted slightly to look down at me. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Remember I told you I was thinking about crazy stuff earlier before I cock-blocked you? This is what I was thinking about. I need to know.”

“Hang on. I was on the verge of jizzing in my jeans, and you were thinking about middle names and ice cream?”

I laughed. “I was caught up in the moment, but it was hard to lose myself in the throes of passion when there are so many things I don’t know about you.”

“Of course. How ridiculous of me. Vanilla. That’s my favorite flavor of ice cream. No scratch that,
French
vanilla. What’s yours?”

“Chocolate. I love anything chocolate. When’s your birthday?”

“June twenty-sixth. You?”

“December thirteenth. And get this—I was born on a Friday.”

“Seriously? Then it’s official. I fucking love Friday the thirteenth,” he declared.

“Yeah, I think maybe I’m won over, too,” I said. “Okay, one last question. I take my coffee with milk and sugar. How do you take it?”

“Black.”

“Ew, really?”

“Yeah, I don’t like it all creamy.”

I snickered, unable to contain my naughty smile.

He rolled me onto my back and propped himself up on his elbow again. “Do you have to turn everything into a dirty joke? No wonder Penny likes you so much. You’re cut from the same cloth.”

“And you adore her, so I’m not about to change now.”

“Good. I love you exactly the way you are.”

“Do you mean that?” I asked.

“Of course. You’re perfect just the—”

“No, the
other
part. The
love
part,” I said, squirming a little.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “It’s sort of a figure of speech, isn’t it? What do you think? Can you see yourself falling in love with me one day?”

The room was extremely quiet all of a sudden, making my breathing and my pounding heart seem very loud. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s already happening.” I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.

“Maybe?” he asked.

“I’d say a definite maybe, yeah.”

“I’ll take it,” he said, kissing me softly. “And God knows I shouldn’t say this, but since I already suggested as much when we were out for our walk earlier—I definitely maybe feel the same way.”

“Really?”

Daniel Grant is definitely maybe falling in love with me!
I kissed him enthusiastically, but he pushed me away gently.

“I can’t breathe.” He laughed.

“Sorry,” I said, unable to contain my smile.

“Don’t be. You’re wonderful.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder. “So, do you have your phone with you tonight?”

“Yes. It’s in my coat pocket.”

“Mind if I grab it?”

“No, go ahead.”

He left and returned a moment later with my phone. He dropped back onto the bed.

“Will you do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“Call or text Matt to let him know you won’t be going back to the apartment tonight?”

I questioned him with my eyes, and the corner of his mouth crept up. “He worries,” he said, winking at me.

Chapter 6

Patience

…thou must be patient.
(
Measure for Measure
, Act IV, Scene 3)

I B
RUSHED
M
Y
T
EETH
, smiling like a loon.

Was I falling head over heels in love? Absolutely. Definitely
maybe?
Pfft! More like definitely
definitely
.

I carefully cleaned up and put my toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. That’s when I noticed the prescription pill bottles were gone. Daniel had moved them. Did he have some sort of embarrassing condition that he was afraid to tell me about? I frowned at my reflection. Regardless of how much we’d cleared up, I had so much more to learn about him.

I slipped my bra out of my sleeve. No way was I sleeping in it. Plus, something about having Daniel’s pajama top against my bare breasts was rather titillating. When I returned to the bedroom, Daniel was sitting on the edge of the bed, frowning as he watched the nightly news.

He watched me place my bra on top of my pile of clothes, then eyed my chest. He wasn’t even remotely subtle as he checked me out, no doubt noticing the way my nipples were pressing against the soft cotton fabric.

“Are you warm enough, my lovely?” he said.

“Whatever do you mean?” I asked, walking over and standing in front of him. He reached out for me, resting his forehead against my stomach. I ran my hands though his hair, making it stick out in different directions.

“Mmm. Why does that feel so good?”

I gently rubbed his scalp with my nails, and he moved his head like a spoiled cat.

“It feels good because
apparently
you like being scratched,” I said.

“You’ve got that right.” He reached up to stop my hands. “Be still for a second,” he whispered, turning his head and pressing his cheek into my cleavage but leaving his hands at my waist. Oddly, even though his face was nestled between my breasts, there was nothing remotely sexual about it. In fact, it was one of the most exquisitely tender moments I’d ever experienced. I dared not move. After a few moments, he looked up at me.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I was listening to your heart.”

My heart. The very same heart which was now flipping over and diving into my stomach to do somersaults.

“Daniel—”

“Yes, poppet?”

Instead of trying to find appropriate words, I held his steady gaze and took his left hand with my right, slowly guiding it to where I thought my heartbeat might be. Daniel closed his eyes and took a long steady breath. I did the same. He was now holding my breast, but his hand was gentle, unmoving.

“Your heart is racing,” he whispered.

“I’m not surprised.”

His lips gently parted as he slid his hand back down to my waist, grazing my nipple with his thumb as he moved. I swallowed hard, and my legs went rubbery.

He flicked the TV off and turned to me with a smoldering expression. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, gathering me into his arms and lowering me onto the bed where he proceeded to kiss me with a tender passion that swept me away.

As we kissed, I gave my hands license to roam, running my fingertips up his arms, taking in the sculpted lines of his biceps and shoulders. Time slowed as we moved against each other.

I’m actually melting in slow motion.

Having reduced me to a quivering mess, he rolled away, his eyes clouded with desire.

“I thought you said you were going to behave appropriately for the rest of the evening?” I said. “And what about all the ground rules?”

“In addition to any other horrible character flaws I already had, it seems I’ve now become a pathological liar,” he said. “You’re an amazing kisser.”

“Hey, it takes two to tango, baby,” I whispered, dropping feathery kisses along his upturned jaw. “Though it might actually be possible to tango alone, at least if you’re in the shower.”

He shook his head gently. “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

“Immensely,” I said.

A gentle growl rumbled in his chest. “I don’t think my Achilles’ heel has ever ached so badly before. There’s not a physiotherapist in the world who could treat it now. It’s beyond repair.” He moaned and shifted his weight. “Seriously, I want to lie here and kiss you senseless all night,” he said. “Why do you have to be so irresistible?”

The most amazingly hot guy found me irresistible, and I wasn’t supposed to be pursuing a romantic relationship with him. The scenario was beyond frustrating.

“Do you think I should go home?”

Daniel’s hold on me tightened. “No, and please don’t suggest it again. This isn’t easy, but I’m not going to cross a line. The timing isn’t right. I want our first time to be what you deserve.”

We lay quietly for a few moments, and Daniel gently rubbed my back. I was so comfortable, and his touch was soothing. I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, and he chuckled quietly.

“We should get to sleep,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy this for a while longer.” Sleep meant tomorrow would be upon us in no time, and reality would intrude once again.