Dancing Barefoot (14 page)

Tog
ether they laughed, each looking surprised at the ease stirring between them. She sighed, releasing the tension of the day and the confusing thoughts that had tormented her brain for the past few hours.

"I've missed being with you like this, just us talking," she admitted with a smile.

"To answer your question, I like Boston." He opened the menu. "Burgers, yes?"

Her smile slipped. He still didn't trust her and she couldn't blame him.
He still believed she had simply gotten cold feet and left. "Yep. McDougal's makes the best in Boston...or at least on this block."

"I'll have whatever you think is best then. I'm hungry
, I think I forgot to eat today, except for that bite of the hotdog." Snap, snap wen the rubber band on his wrist, discreetly hidden behind his leather bracelets.

"What's with the rubber band?" she asked.

"Giving up smoking, like I said. According to Ava, this is supposed to help me lose the urge." He smiled and averted his gaze.

"Weren't you just smoking at my apartment?" She leaned back in the booth, enjoying being with him again and resisting the
impulse to crawl across the table to kiss him.

"Shh...
don't tell." Still smiling, he looked around the bar before sliding his gaze back to hers.

She leaned back when Benny returned with their drinks. She ordered their dinner and ignored Benny's inquisitive look between the two of them. He'd never seen her here with anyone outside
the usual group. Her grin faltered at the realization of how narrow her world had become. She'd been coming to this bar for over a decade with the same group of people, the bartender knew what she ordered on the weekdays compared to the weekends. She'd even dated within the same circle—not that she and Marc had exactly dated. Hooked-up would be more accurate. She squirmed, the trapped feeling from the other day closing in around her. She was a thirty-two year old associate partner in an architecture firm who'd had exactly one big adventure in her life and that adventure personified now sat across from her looking as uncomfortable as she felt.

"So, Jacques, tell me about your adventures over the past few years. Who have you met, what have you seen, and what's the best place you've traveled so far?"

He took his time drinking his beer and paying an abnormal amount of attention to placing the glass back onto the table. Eventually, he looked at her and shrugged. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah, I do. I've imagined you in all sorts of places doing all kinds of things." She leaned her arms on the table and waited for him to talk. 
"We're on a first date and this is what people discuss on first dates. I think. If I remember correctly."

"
I'm still trying to absorb the idea that you've imagined me anywhere, Jess, you really are confusing me with all of this," he said without looking away from her eyes.  "I did some things I'm not proud of, had some success despite it all, and avoided the United States all together. Truth be known, I even lost touch with Ava for over a year." He shook his head and closed his eyes again as if struck by a horrendous headache. "I never once dreamed you'd want me here, let alone that you would imagine me as a part of your life."

"Yeah, well, I guess I should have left a note," she muttered.

"Yes, a note would have been good." He leaned his head back against the booth and dragged both hands across his face before laughing so hard that she couldn't resist joining in. 

Laughter dissipated with the arrival of their burgers. She had no idea where to go from here...how to lead a conversation when they were going out of their way to avoid certain subjects. 
She ignored the vibrating cell phone in her pocket, resenting the intrusion of the outside world.

"South Africa has been my favorite place so far. I spent almost four months there working with National Geographic," he finally said.

"You do a lot of work with them?"

He
nodded, his gaze skimming across a stray curl that bounced in front of her eyes while she ate her burger. "Some."

"Your trip
Amazon River trip is with them, right? A documentary?"

"That's right.
Carter is heading up the team, he's anxious to see you again." He focused on his beer. "Have you thought about Miranda's offer to show your art with mine on Friday?"  

"Short notice...I wouldn't be able to be ready, to pick which ones
would be suitable..." She pushed her plate away and sighed. All those thoughts from earlier had ravaged her mind. 

"Excuses, excuses..." He smiled, dimples showing to perfection.

"I'm not an artist, I'm an
architect,
" she said with too much emphasis on the last word.

"Why can't you be both? What is wrong with that?" His gaze skimmed over her face, lingered on her
mouth.

"
Architects are respected professionals who actually make money, artists live day to day never knowing what's going to hit or miss. I like my security. As for not being both...I've never seen that as an option," she said.

"
You're making it more complicated than necessary. Life is all about choices, Jess."

"Choices, huh? Do you really believe that life is so cut and dried? Simple?"

"Yes, I do." His gaze locked with hers. "If you want something bad enough, you do it, you make it happen. Simple."

Why did that feel like a dare? She squinted at him as she finished her beer.

"Thank you." The urge to confide in him drummed in her heart. She wasn't one to confide in even her closest of friends, though, wasn't one to lean. Meeting his gaze now, though, she felt as if he were testing her. "Friday night you asked me if it made me happy...I'm not so sure. I worked hard for this, but today I felt more like a woman suffocating than someone celebrating."

He stared at her in silence, his face not betraying any emotion.

Great. I said too much. What's wrong with me?
She poked at her burger with a French fry.

"What else?" He leaned his elbows on the table. "There's more you want to tell me, isn't there?"

"My mom's a mess," she whispered. She'd never even told Sela or Jane about her problems with her mother. "I left Italy abruptly because, shortly after you'd left the apartment, Marc called. My mother had overdosed—on purpose—and was in a coma. She had also slit her wrists, I guess she wanted to make sure she died, but it didn't work. She calls it her biggest failure, tries to joke about it, but I think she's serious. Marc had arranged for a ticket at the airport so I could get back immediately. I didn't pack anything, intending to come back. I waited as long as possible that day for you to come home, but then I had to go. I never thought I'd be gone so long, it all became overwhelming. Once I was here, I realized I didn't have your phone number or email. I mean, why would I? We were together all of the time. You know the rest...But this thing with my mom...she's a mess. It's a pattern. She needs me to be there when the next guy leaves, which is what always happens."

"You came back to be with her, to take care of your
mother, not just because of your career or Marc?" He frowned as if trying to understand what she was saying.

"I don't really discuss this with people." She'd revealed too much, gone too far out of her comfort zone, and needed to stop.

"I want to understand, Jess. I'm not judging you. I'm here because I—because I think—we want the same thing."

"
I went back to bring you home with me, not to run off with you." She met his gaze, certain she sounded foolish. "I swore I'd never rely on a man, that I'd always take care of myself. I don't want to be like her. She is the neediest person on the planet."

"I think that's the most honest thing you've ever said to me." He looked awestruck. "We should have talked more in Italy or I should have listened, I don't know. "

"We're talking now." She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

"Now is all that matters." He exhaled slowly. "About your promotion, are we celebrating or mourning, I'm confused." He smiled then to lighten the mood.
"We're covering a lot of bases for a first date. I think we're breaking the rules."

"I am so tired of playing by the rules."
She didn't want to sit here talking anymore. She wanted to take him home, lead him to her bedroom, and make love slowly all night long until her body was limp with orgasmic satisfaction. "Let's call it a celebration. Spend the night with me."

She held her breath while he took his time
contemplating the idea. Her heartbeat ricocheted inside her chest, pulsated in her throat, and echoed in her ears. 

"
Jacques and Jessica together again? What would that be like?" He smiled without looking at her. 

She'd forgotten that he was a unique combination of shy and bold, depending on the situation. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, crossed her fingers beneath the table, and stared at him until he
looked up and met her gaze. 

Without saying a word, he tossed money on to the table, stood, and reached his hand out to her.  She linked her fingers with his and let him pull her close to his side. 

"Is this temporary in your mind or do you want to go all in?" he asked within a fraction of her lips. 

"All in."

"This could get messy. Simone—"

She put her finger over his mouth to stop him from mentioning the other woman.  "If you want something bad enough, you do it, you make it happen. No excuses. Your words."

"All in it is then." He squeezed her hand and kissed her lightly on the lips, gaze never breaking from hers. "I want to trust you, but it might take time."

Her lips tingled
from the featherlike touch of his. She understood she needed to earn back his trust. 

Ignoring Benny's inquisitive look as they left the bar, she leaned against Jacques' side. They walked in sync back to her apartment, neither saying a word. 

When they entered her apartment, she secured the deadbolt and chain as well as the bottom lock. Took her time. Lingered with her back to him while she prayed that she wouldn't blow it this time, her being the Queen of Self Sabotage tended to undermine her resolve.  

His hands dropped to her shoulders, breath skimmed the back of her neck before he kissed her there. She pressed her forehead against the back of the door. More than anything, she wanted his love back, wanted to feel that kind of passion once more. 

His hands moved down her arms until they curved over her hands that were pressed against the door. 

"
I've never loved anyone like I've loved you...that scares me," he whispered against her skin. 

"Scares me, too."
She turned within the circle of his arms and looked up at him. "You asked me if I'd be all in this time around and I said yes. What about you? Are you willing to accept me as is, here in Boston with all of my not-so-polite baggage alive and well only an hour away? No more Simone...can you do that?"

He dropped his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes closed without letting her go. "I did some things that are unforgivable. Stupid things. Horrible things."

She curved her palm over his jawline. "None of it matters to me."

"It will." When he opened his eyes, pain more intense than anything she'd ever seen filled his gaze. "You'll hate me.
"

"
Tais-toi et embrasse-moi
," she whispered against his lips. Shut up and kiss me.

"I thought you hadn't learned French." He smiled.

"I only learned the important phrases I thought might be useful one day."

"
Baise-moi
," he said.

"Fuck me," she repeated in French, her eyes widening at the command. "Like I said, I learned all the important phrases."

She kissed him, her body gravitating toward his as if by a magnetic pull. Sick of confessions and regret, she poured all of her love into the kiss, hoping it would break through his resistance and reach his heart.

He matched her intensity. Tongues
slid against one another. He lifted her up in one scoop. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he carried her back to the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Her body throbbed with need. It felt like her heartbeat had dropped between her legs, the pulsating sensation causing her to squirm against him.

He dropped her against the bed.  While he pulled on her sweatshirt, she yanked at his T-shirt. They couldn't get naked fast enough to quell the raging desire pumping through their blood. They laughed against each other's mouths as their hands fumbled with zippers. 

She'd never felt this kind of passion and freedom with any other man.  She wanted him in every way imaginable. 

When he tore his mouth away to nibble her neck, she curled her fingers in his hair.  His tongue flicked over her nipples as his hands squeezed her ass and his thighs slipped between hers. 

"I wanted to go slow this time," he whispered against her collarbone.