Closely Guarded Secret (14 page)

“I fought having any feelings towards you, and I think you know this. You came on so strong when we met, which I wasn’t used to at all, and by your own admission; you love the thrill of the hunt. That’s how all of this started. You thought I was like all the other women in your life, and it was such a turn off.”

“I’ll admit the first time I saw you last year, that may have been the case. But in New York, my way of thinking shifted after I met you. In the past, the relationships I had were a means to an end. Now, I want something, and someone, more grounded.”

“When we went out and had a real conversation, I saw a different side of you. You acted like a normal person,” I say to him.

“A normal person, as opposed to?” he asks, intrigued.

“An opportunist.” I know he understands. “Saying that, though, opportunity came knocking at my door that day. When I answered, there you stood, so unexpected. It’s a surprising revelation to me and to everyone who knows me,” I confess, and I hope he hears the honesty in my words.

“I’m glad you opened the door,” he says, while caressing my face. He leans over and kisses me softly. “I need to get out of these sandy clothes.”

“Yes you do, and I’m getting hungry.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I know exactly how he’s going to take it. His eyes widen and his pupils contract. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I’m quick to retort.

“It’s what I mean.” He jogs to my side of the car, opening my door. “As much as I would love to have you for lunch, I know you’re not ready to take that step. For now, we both need real food. Come on, I’ll get ready and we can go.” A warm sense of calm surrounds me as he takes my hand. The sexual tension crackles around us once the elevator doors close. His breaths becomes as labored as mine and I have to restrain myself from jumping him.

A loud ping announces our arrival to his floor. The doors open to the most magnificent living space I’ve ever been in. The spacious room with cherry wood floors has a huge, plush cream area rug in the living room that complements the furniture and walls, which are done in medium browns and cream.

The floor to ceiling windows on two sides are at least 20 feet high. There’s a built-in stainless steel gas fireplace on the back wall. If it’s this beautiful down here, I can only imagine what the rest of the house looks like.

Outside is a wrap-around balcony that goes on forever, with high walls constructed all around, also with floor to top windows. It has the most spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge and downtown.

“You have a beautiful home, Bryce. Big, but beautiful.” It’s on this side of being over the top from anything I’ve ever seen.

“Thank you. I know it may look like too much but I needed a place with more security.”

“Why? Didn’t your house have security?” I ask.

“Yes, but it wasn’t a gated community and was too accessible. Once word got out about my wealth . . . lets say I had uninvited visitors.”

Of course, him being single and resembling a Greek God doesn’t help his cause. “Makes sense.” I’m still in awe, standing in this vast space with him.

He goes on to say, “I was naïve about my wealth and thought people wouldn’t care and leave me alone. Plus, I’m closer to work, so it made sense to move.”

When I see the size of the massive kitchen with its stainless steel appliances and double oven, my eyes almost bug out of my head. There’s also a huge center island made of marble and a bar that also serves as an eating area, lined with four stainless steel barstools.

“Do you cook?” I ask.

“Yes.” He says. I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t.

“Steven would pass out if he saw this. He loves to cook.”

“Maybe I’ll invite him over one night,” he says as he ambles toward me.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. He loves the creative process and thinks he has to use every pot and pan. Besides, once he sees this place, you’ll never get rid of him.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” he asks. He closes the space between us and wraps his arms around me. The scent of salt air and sweat surround him but it’s not offensive.

“I could give you a tour upstairs,” he says, peppering my face and neck with kisses.

“Maybe later,” I say, not sure if I could trust either of us in his bedroom right now. “You need a shower.” I hold my nose in mock disgust and he gives me a slight swat on my ass, then dips me into a kiss to end all kisses. It’s forceful but gentle, intense but crucial. When he brings me upright I sway a little before finding my balance. Damn, my lips are on fire along with the rest of me. My soul screams at me for having restraint and not throwing myself to the ground, letting him take me.

“Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.” He winks then takes the stairs, two at a time. Twenty minutes later, he emerges smelling ever so delicious. “Are you ready? I’ll drive.”

“What about my car?”

“Okay, I’ll follow you and we’ll go from there,” he says, ushering me to the elevator.

The drive to my house doesn’t take much time at all. I see Steven, but I don’t want to talk to him because I’m still upset. He’s wise not to say anything to me as I walk over to Bryce’s car and we leave.

#

After a delicious lunch, we stroll along the Wharf hand in hand, blending in with the tourists. I never thought it would be possible to allow myself the luxury of dating and being comfortable with another person. I was living in a black and white world, absent of color. Now, everything feels like a vibrant, new experience, and I know it’s because of Bryce.

“Did you always know what you wanted to do, to be?” I ask as we wait in line for a cable car.

“Images would pop up in my mind. They were more in the abstract, so I started sketching and writing down my thoughts, trying to make sense of it all.”

“That’s amazing, Bryce. How old were you when it started?”

He pauses for a minute, “Eleven or twelve. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my parents. They would’ve thought I was crazy.” He smiles and tugs my hand, helping me onto the cable car.

I’m in complete awe of his talent. When Jodi let us preview The Bridge’s article about Bryce, I got the idea that his vision at such a young age made him who he is today. Pure genius.

We end up by Ghirardelli Square, hot and tired, for a much needed ice cream sundae. Mmm, I love their chocolate. If only I could drizzle this on his . . . Wow, talk about wayward thoughts. I have an idea to get my mind out of the gutter.

“Why don’t we ask each other a series of rapid fire questions,” I propose as we walk toward the water after finishing our sundaes.

“Always curious.”

“Like a cat. Ready?” I ask. He only answers with a nod.

“When’s your birthday?”

“May 7th. You didn’t know?”

“Yes, but I wanted to hear it from you. Now, favorite color?”

“Blue, all shades but I’ve acquired a recent attraction to red.”

The burning sensation on my cheeks spreads to my ears and neck. It’s all I can do to hide my grin. I continue, “Favorite food?”

“Pizza.”

“Favorite drink?”

He shrugs, “Beer, wine, water. It depends on my mood and what I’m doing.”

“What are things you like to do when alone?”

“That would be telling now wouldn’t it?” He stifles a laugh.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I never do.”

“Childhood pets?” I ask in a huff.

“A dog, a cat and a turtle. Oh, I also had a goldfish. I couldn’t prove it, but I know the cat ate it,” he says, humor evident in his voice.

“What’s your biggest regret?”

“Not meeting you sooner.” He sweeps me into his arms, one hand on my face, tilting it upward as his lips brush against mine. On instinct, my body reacts and I melt into his embrace.

“Your turn,” he whispers in my ear. He locks our fingers together as we continue our stroll. “When’s your birthday?”

“March 4th.”

“Favorite drink?”

“White wine.”

“Favorite food? And ice cream doesn’t count.”

“Fine. Pasta with spicy sausage.” That earns me a surprised look. “What? I like spicy foods. Next question.”

“Pets?”

“I had a cat and wanted a dog, but with mom’s busy schedule and mine, we wouldn’t have given it the attention it needed.”

“Morning or night person?”

“Night.”

“If you had a superpower, what would it be?” He asks this with amusement.

“Invisibility.” He looks impressed. “Imagine, walking among all these people, and no one can see you. The ultimate hide and seek.”

“I’ll always want see you.” The strong conviction behind his words makes my heart skip a beat.

With the gentle glow of the horizon as our backdrop, we face the bay, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in our own thoughts. The sky’s a beautiful dark blue with pink and purple swirls against the orange and yellow of dusk, a perfect color pallet as the fading sun reflects off the water.

As much as I don’t want to, I break the comfortable silence. “This weekend has been perfect. Thank you.”

“Yes, it has.” His grin couldn’t get any bigger. Our bodies are so close that not even a whisper of wind could come between us. As our lips meet, the wild, hungry energy raging throughout me screams for nourishment, a sustenance which only he can provide. His searing kiss, like a discarded match, alights anew every cell of my body. His erection pressing against me tells me he feels it too.

We’re in public, and reluctantly slow our mutual assault. I can’t tear myself away from his probing gaze as we drown in our own secret thoughts. For a brief moment, he has a distant stare, but then it’s gone.

With a heavy sigh, he says, “I’ll be gone all week.” His statement snaps me out of my musings.

“Oh? I thought it was only for a couple of days.”

“It was, but I have other business to take care of, so it makes sense to do it while I’m there.”

“When will you be back?” I ask with a little too much desperation in my voice. I don’t want to sound needy.

“Friday.” My heart sinks at the thought of not seeing him this week. I’m starting to miss him already. How can it be, I miss someone when I’m standing here wrapped in the warmth of his arms?

“That’s not too long.” I don’t believe a word that just came out of my mouth.

“It’s going to feel like an eternity,” he says, tightening his arms around me. Maybe him being gone is the space I need to get my head together and figure this out. Whatever this is.

“You know it’s not like it used to be in the ‘old’ days. I mean there’s email, cell phones, text and even Skype. You know, all that modern technology,” I reply trying to lighten the mood.

“I want to see you when I get back.”

“I’d like that. How about Saturday?”

Caressing my face, he says, “That’s one day too long. My plane gets in at four on Friday. I’ll make reservations for dinner and pick you up at seven.” Talk about taking control! And now I can’t wait until Friday.

“Sounds like a plan.” Releasing his hold around me, we walk back to the car, hand in hand.

Bryce pulls up outside my house too soon for my liking. He comes around to open my car door. Ever the gentleman. When we reach my front porch, he leans into me, his forehead against mine as he holds me close against him. I like this contact. Strong and powerful, yet gentle and soothing. I don’t know if it’s because I won’t see him all week, or the feel of his body heat, but I have an urgent need to grab onto him, bring him into me and not let go. Wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing my lips to his, our mouths cling together, our tongues in a frantic search for each other.

He moans softly, then pulls away from me. “If I don’t go now, I’m going to take you right here on your porch.”

“Bryce, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on.”

“I don’t. I know after our talk, it’s going to happen when you’re ready. I respect you enough to wait. It’s painful at times, but I can.”

I do want him. Everything inside me screams that I want him and that I’m ready. Why am I dragging my feet? I’m surprised I haven’t sprained my neck going back and forth about it. “I know, and I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know.” He kisses me again and waits until I’m inside before he leaves.

A sense of dread washes over me. I know I’ll have to confront Steven, and I’m not looking forward to that conversation. I feel closer to Bryce after our talk today, but my hand was forced by Steven’s disclosure, and that’s not okay.

#

Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I head toward the kitchen where I hear the clatter of pots and pans. Might as well get it over with. As I walk in I see Steven cooking like a madman. He does this when he’s stressed. He turns and sees me. “Hi,” he says sheepishly.

“Hi. What are you doing?”

“I baked a cake.” Whenever he knows he’s fucked up, he always bakes.

May as well dive in headfirst. “Steven, we need to talk about earlier.”

His voice is strong, and I know he’s going to stand his ground. “I know, but before you rip my balls off, can I explain myself first?”