Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (15 page)

He unbuttoned her blouse…unlatched her bra…pulled off her slacks…and had his fingers poised at the waistband of her ivory panties…in a record-breaking Step Five.

When they were underwear-to-underwear, he pressed his erection against her. She gasped, never having felt anything like
this
before, and his gaze flew up to meet hers.

“Oh-oh,” he said, his voice thick. “I bet I’ve crossed some uncrossed boundaries already.”

“Ah-huh. About five more than have ever been breached.”

He grinned. “Can’t say I’m sorry, Lizzy.”

“Elizabeth,” she told him, then she snapped the waistband of his smiley-face boxers.

“Ow. That was so not nice of you,” he murmured in her ear before he nipped at her lobe. Then he traced the outside of her ear with his wicked tongue, shooting sparks of need from that one tiny corner of her body all the way down and around to everywhere else. And, as if that weren’t enough sensation, he ground his hips into hers a second time.

“Oohhh, Rob.”

Then he did it again and again, and it occurred to her that this extreme level of awareness might overpower her. That her longing for him could get so strong that her flimsy underused circuits would overheat and shut down. That she could
die
from this degree of wanting.

He surged against her another time and she almost broke. “Oh, Rob. I-I can’t—”

She tried to say,
I can’t take it anymore, I’m about to ignite
, but Rob took her at her literal words, clenched his jaw and pulled himself off her.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said.

She reached up to try to pull him back. To explain how he’d misunderstood.

“You’re right to wait for someone special,” he said. “Someone who’ll love you and stick by you and be here for you next month and next year.”

She let her arms flop down on the sofa. She wished she could cover her ears without offending him. She knew for sure she wasn’t going to want to hear what was coming next.

“I want you like a crazy man tonight, Elizabeth, but you know Chicago is home to me now. You know after our uncles come back next week I’m going to have to leave.”

Her throat was dry and unresponsive, so she just nodded. Yes, yes, she knew he’d leave.

“And you’ve waited for so long. I don’t—I don’t want you to waste this gift of yourself, of your first time, on me.”

Oh, how she wanted to tell him he was wrong. That with him it would never, could never be a wasted offering. But, as usual, her voice didn’t cooperate.

“Or,” his expression turned hard, “on some random waiter at a bar, okay? Your moral courage is inspiring. I don’t know many women who would wait until they were twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight to—”

“Shhh,” she said finally, her voice raspy with the burden of unfulfilled desire.

Oh, God, she wanted him
in
her.

Her shocked body ached for him. Her heart, too. How could she explain aloud that her current state of virginity had much less to do with “moral courage” than with good old “lack of guts”?

Besides, what did it matter? In the end, he didn’t want her long term. Maybe it was better this way—stopping now. Maybe. Maybe not. But he’d taken the choice away from her.

She watched as he slipped his shirt over those great shoulders and picked up his jeans. He eyed them apprehensively.

“Um, getting myself back into these is going to be too much of a task in my current…condition.” With the merest flush of embarrassment, he glanced down. One of the smiley-faces on his boxers had a nose like Pinocchio’s. “I just—well, could I grab a quick shower?”

She got him a towel and, fifteen minutes later, he was out the door, promising to pick her up tomorrow before his opening shift so she could retrieve her car.

His parting kiss was so tender, though, she almost called him back. “Stay with me,” she whispered to the empty hallway. “Don’t ever go.”

But even she knew there was a time when fantasy stopped and reality hit full force. She’d just had a major collision with it.

* * * * *

ELIZABETH COMBATED THE earthy elements of grogginess and lust the next morning. She told herself she could deal with whatever the day threw at her, but fear crept in and curled into a ball in her stomach. It was The Morning After—or, at least, the biggest Morning After she’d ever had so far. How would Rob greet her? With friendliness? With heightened sexual hunger? With avoidance or shame?

But he surprised her because she hadn’t guessed it would be…with warmth and a bouquet of flowers.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the pink roses.

He said his “You’re Welcome” to her by collecting her in his arms and kissing her without a breath for ninety seconds at least. He pulled a couple of inches away and pointed at her with a stern index finger.

“You weren’t just dreaming last night, got it?” he said, narrowing his eyes in a mock threat. “It was all real. And I don’t want to hear any talk from you that you ‘aren’t sure’ of what happened or what didn’t happen, understand?”

As if she could forget. “I got it,” she told him and gave him her best morning smile. He beamed at her in return.

Oh, she loved this playful side of Rob. Loved it in him. Loved that he brought out something similar in her.

“But I
was
dreaming,” she added, amazed at the evenness of her own voice. “After you left, I dreamed this very handsome Italian-American businessman visited me and took me out for an ice cream. A really large sundae with three ice cream flavors, loads of whipped cream, hot fudge sauce and a big red cherry on top.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes.” She offered him her sweetest smile. “He said he’d personally make it for me. In my dream.”

“C’mon.” He put his arm around her and nudged her toward the door. “We’d better make this frozen fantasy of yours come true before Gretchen gets there. I’ve got a feeling both of us are going to be in front of the firing squad today after our quick departure last night.” He gave her a pointed look. “Your friends aren’t afraid to shoot their toughest questions at a guy, you know.”

“I know.”

So, to Tutti-Frutti they went.

“Did that ‘handsome Italian-American businessman’ select the three ice cream flavors for you, or did he ask you what you wanted?” Rob said to her, his lips upturned and looking rather smirky. “In your dream.”

“He asked me which ones I wanted, of course.”

“Okay. Which ones do you want?”

“I want
your
top three favorite flavors. Please.”

His brow wrinkled.
“My
favorites?”

“Yes. And any other toppings you think are good.”

He shrugged and loaded the sundae bowl with Pistachio Paradise, Chocolate Brownie Chunk and, finally, the sweet shop’s namesake.

“Tutti-Frutti is one of your favorites?” she said. “Why?”

“You disapprove?”

“Not at all. J-Just curious.”

He leaned across the counter and kissed her on the nose. “Because I like stuff that’s kind of complex. That has little surprises in it.”

He ladled spoonfuls of hot fudge sauce over the ice cream, made another layer with caramel, then slathered her entire sundae in whipped cream. He added a couple of fat fresh strawberries to the massive dessert along with the big red cherry she’d requested, plopping it right on top. Then he pushed the concoction across the counter toward her, followed by a napkin and a spoon.

“May I have another spoon please?” she said.

“That one’s not dirty, is it?” He reached to grab her spoon back, but she did something she never done before. She put her hand on his and stopped him.

“No. I m-meant, I wanted one for you.”

He stared down at her small hand resting on top of his for a moment, then he brought her fingers to his lips. Still holding her hand, he pulled out another spoon and dug into the giant sundae. But, instead of eating it himself, he offered the first scoop to her. Amazing. The man, not the ice cream.

Well, the ice cream, too.

She filled her spoon up and rubbed it against his bottom lip so driblets of hot-fudge sauce clung to that manly mouth. So luscious.

“Mmm,” she said, watching him eat it.

He reached toward the sundae, snatching a strawberry and using it as a decorating tool to dot her nose, chin and cheeks with whipped-cream freckles. Then he kissed them off one at a time and fed the strawberry to her. Her heart slammed hard against her chest.

Or, maybe, it was the door that slammed.

“My, isn’t this…cozy,” Gretchen said, her voice registering an odd combination of amusement, surprise and suspicion. “Customers will be here in ten minutes, though. Maybe you two should take this…this
activity
into the backroom…provided it’s consensual.”

Elizabeth turned to look at her good friend, whose blue eyes were wide and questioning and whose body language indicated she could just as easily throw her arms around them in a bear hug of congratulations as she could throw a hard punch that might knock Rob over.

“I-It’s okay, Gretch. We’re, um, we both—”

Rob cleared his throat. “What she means is that we’re giving you the morning off today. Elizabeth’s going to work this shift with me.” He stared at her until he’d forced a nod out of her. Gretchen raised her eyebrows and shot them both dubious glances, but Rob continued, “You’ve been working real hard and probably have better things to do than watch the two of us make fools of ourselves for the rest of the morning. We’re going to be pretty self-involved here.”

A smile played on the far corners of Gretchen’s lips. “And who’s going to tend to the customers?”

“We sincerely promise not to ignore them,” he said. “Not much, anyway.”

“Elizabeth?” Gretchen asked.

She nodded at her friend, knowing darn well she hadn’t been able to keep the wonder and delight off her own face.

Oh, the victorious thrill of love!

Gretchen’s smile broadened. “You sure you don’t need a chaperone?”

Elizabeth shook her head at the same time Rob said, “Look, Gretchen, Elizabeth and I have only got a week left to be together before our uncles come back from Europe. We’re just enjoying the little time we have before I return to Chicago.”

Oh, the defeating agony of reality.

Some of the remarkable animating force that’d kept her running hot these past ten or so hours, drained out of her. A chill took its place.

“Alrighty, then.” Gretchen swiveled on her robust heel and marched to the door. She flipped the sign from “Closed” to “Open” and called over her shoulder, “Play safely, kids. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Well, neither did Elizabeth, but preventing it was impossible. She waved her friend off and returned her sole attention to Rob, who was holding an ice-cream-covered spoon two inches from her lips again. He’d managed to get some of every layer of the sundae on it, plus, he dangled the maraschino cherry by its stem just above it.

“Open up, Lizzy,” he said.

She got as far as “Eliza—” before he dropped the sweet fruit in her open mouth and followed it up with the spoon of ice cream.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Just like that.”

She tugged the cherry off its stem and chewed, appreciating the sensation of being fed for the first time since she was three. He made her feel giddy and childlike and not at all like the serious adult that she had the reputation of being. Bless the man.

If she weren’t such a good girl, she’d consider making a bargain with the devil to keep Rob here in Wilmington Bay for a little longer. Then again, she probably couldn’t hold his attention for more than another week or two, and all she’d get in the end would be the pain of watching this miraculous thing that’d happened between them dissolve and the misery of seeing him fall for someone else—someone prettier and more interesting—before taking off for good.

No. She’d make no bargains. No promises. No vows. She wouldn’t let her hopes get all tangled up in this astonishing relationship. She’d just enjoy it for however long it lasted…and then let it go.

Yeah, right.

They worked side-by-side all morning, filling orders and eating up that sundae and two others, before Nick ambled in around noon. He wore dark sunglasses and hadn’t yet shaved for the day.

“Hey, guys,” he said, his voice raspy. “Gretchen called me and ordered me—I mean, she said I could find you both here. I, um, look—I got really drunk last night, which I think you know, so I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Elizabeth, or offended you, Rob, or did anything especially stupid because—”

“It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off.

Rob pretended to punch Nick in the gut. “All’s forgiven. This time,” he said.

Nick looked more than mildly relieved but also a tad confused. “You sure?”

“Yep,” Rob said.

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed.

“Okey-dokey—I mean, that’s good. Thanks.” Nick slouched against the counter, his hands cradling his dark head. “I’m gonna go back to bed then. I’m making my brother Jason give me the day off, but I’ll be back at five-thirty for my first shift.”

“Terrific.” Rob waved him toward the door.

Nick took a few steps backward then scowled at them. “Look, I know I’m majorly hung over right now, but is there something going on here that I don’t know about?”

Rob rested his arm on Elizabeth’s shoulders then pulled her in tight toward his to-die-for body. “Like what?” he said to Nick.

“Like—I don’t know. I’m just getting a weird vibe, but that’s probably crazy, right?”

“Right.” Rob turned Elizabeth to face him, leaving not a millimeter of space between them. Every single bit of her skin in connection with his tingled. He leaned in and kissed her. A good, long, hard one.

Nick pulled off his dark glasses and squinted at them. “What the hell? When did that happen?”

“Thanks for your help, Nick—I mean, your apology,” Rob said with a broad grin. “You can go now.”

Her Greek buddy opened his mouth to speak but, for once, closed it again. He smiled, saluted them and was out the door before you could say “Spanakopita.”

Rob laughed and kissed her again.

“Promise me you’ll work every opening shift with me this week,” he said when the coast was clear of both friends and customers. “Please. I know you’ve still got a lot of writing to do, but I love having you here beside me.”