It Feels Like

While she took their plates to the kitchen, he pulled the tray of sliced strawberries and pears from the fridge and unwrapped it. She thought it was a strange dessert until she saw him produce a bottle of Champagne. Opening wine or Champagne like Brad was an art that she would probably never master. The champagne flutes were elegant crystal and probably worth more money than she made in a day. Brad carried the tray , the Champagne, and the two flutes over to a chair and table by the huge window that overlooked the city.

She stood by the glass while he sat down and plucked half a strawberry off the tray. This felt like a dream. A gorgeous man had swept her off her feet and whisked her up to a posh Manhattan condo where he had trays of strawberries and bottles of champagne. When he wasn’t being needy and looking hurt, she felt off kilter. What did he see in a struggling designer who was working nights at a diner a few blocks away?

“Come sit with me,” he said softly.

She turned around, wondering where she would sit. There was only one chair. It was large, but not nearly wide enough for them both to sit side-by-side. Brad’s arm was extended out, his long fingers reaching for her.

She took two careful steps over to him, placing her hand in his. He tugged her closer and then reached out to pull her into his lap. “This is my favorite Champagne,” he said, picking her glass up off the table and handing it to her.

She sipped slowly, letting the bubbles tickle her as they slid down her throat. It was dryer than she was used to, but not unpleasant. “It’s very good,” she agreed, shifting to get more comfortable on his lap.

When she looked down at him, he had half a strawberry held between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s better with this,” he replied.

She leaned down and let him slide the strawberry between her lips. She chewed it and took a sip to wash it down. The sweetness of the berry mixed with the Champagne gave a completely different flavor. “Wow, that’s delicious.”

Brad’s eyes were dark and one arm was wrapped around her, holding her close. Keri felt a bit out of her depth. He wasn’t like any man she’d ever met.

“Try the pear,” he said.

She accepted a thin slice of pear from his hand. They sat in front of the window, methodically eating the tray of fruit and finishing the bottle of Champagne. He kept his hands in safe places, never getting too fresh with her. Every now and then, he would pull her down for a kiss, but they were sweet and lazy and searching. And they made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t felt this way since she was sixteen and made out with her first boyfriend.

“Would you like to sleep in my bed?” he asked when they finished the Champagne.

Keri wasn’t sure what he was asking. Was he asking if she wanted to go to bed with him? Was he asking if she wanted to sleep alone in his bed? Was he just curious or was he offering?

“I’ll take the couch if you’d like to stay.”

Part of her was disappointed. Despite telling herself she would not sleep with him when there were so many secrets between them, she still found herself wishing he would just pick her up and toss her on his bed. And then follow her down onto the mattress so she could peel off his shirt and see what was underneath.

“I really should go home. I have work tomorrow.”

“I’ll call a driver to take us. I’ve had too much to drink.”

“I can take the subway.”

He pulled her down for a kiss. “No,” he said. “I’m not letting you take the subway.” His fingers were running through the tendrils of her long hair.

Brad produced his phone from his pocket and pulled up a number on speed dial. “Richards. I’d like a car, please.” He paused and then thanked the person on the other end of the line.

“So secret agent-y,” she teased.

He smiled and pushed her hair over her shoulder. “Are you sure you won’t stay? I’ll behave.”

Keri laughed softly. “No, I really should go home. I can’t be freeloading here once a week, no matter how comfortable your bed is.”

He nodded his head and turned his gaze back out to the city beyond the glass.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, looking up to her and pulling her closer to him.

“Why do you seem so happy tonight? You seem like you’re more confident and at peace.”

“I work with a... group of guys. We were trying to accomplish a task. I haven’t been pulling my weight recently, but we were able to... move one step closer to finishing the task yesterday. I’m... happy with the progress. And I hope I can find my stride in the next couple weeks.”

“See, I told you that you weren’t a loser.”

He smiled softly at her. “We’ll see.”

His phone rang and he answered by saying, “Yes?” Then he nodded and said they would be right down.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” She stood and watched him push himself out of the chair. Taking her hand, he led her over to the kitchen so she could grab her purse. And then he pulled her out the door and down the hall to the elevator. The building was silent, but the elevator had soft music pumping through it.

As soon as the doors slid shut, Brad had pressed her against the wall and put his lips on her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and looked at the mirrored wall across the way. She could see his broad back covering her body and the desire written on her own face as he nipped at the tender skin where her neck and shoulder met. She lifted a hand and threaded her fingers through his hair. “Does this elevator have a camera?” she asked.

Brad chuckled. “Probably.”

“We’re giving somebody a show, then.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, moving his lips to her mouth and kissing her, soft at first then then harder and more insistent.

“Brad,” she whimpered when he pulled back.

“You’re a wonderful distraction from work,” he admitted. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

The doors opened and revealed the lobby of the building. He took her hand again and pulled her toward the doors. A black town car was idling by the curb. He opened the back door, letting her crawl in first and then following her before giving the driver instructions on where they wanted to go.

Distraction? What did that mean?, she thought. Was that all she was? A distraction from a tough time at work? Or was she reading too much into what he’d said. He was such a complicated man. It was as if she’d seen him at his best and worst, but she wasn’t sure which man he really was--the sweet guy who was having a tough time or the suave gentleman who could charm her pants off without breaking a sweat.

His fingers were still laced with hers as their hands rested between them on the seat of the private taxi. Who had the ability to just call a driver like that? Obviously, secret agent Brad did. They rode in silence, which suited her just fine. She was in her own world, trying to figure out the man who she’d come to care for over the past few weeks.

The car pulled up and parked right in front of her apartment building. The driver, whom she hadn’t even seen, stayed silent while Brad opened the door and extended a hand to help her out. Like a gentleman, he walked her to the door of the building.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

Brad smiled and used his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin to tilt her face up. He kissed her, and it was enough to make her clutch at his arms so she didn’t swoon and fall over backwards. “Thank you for spending the evening with me. I had a good time. Maybe we can do it again when I’m back in town.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow for work. I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll call you.”

“What do you do?”

His mouth tightened. “We’ll talk about it. After things calm down at work, we’ll talk about it.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”

She frowned and pushed open the door. “I don’t like secrets, Brad. When it was just us in the diner, I didn’t feel it was my place to question you. But now... well, I feel like you’re just keeping secrets now.”

“Trust me. I’ll tell you soon.”

“Goodnight,” she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Keri.”

********************************

She hadn’t heard from him in several days. It irritated her. He was hot and heavy, wining and dining her, kissing her face off, and then he was nowhere. Gone. And he was still being so secretive about his job. It didn’t sit well with her, but she tried to put him out of her head.

Keri told herself she was going to work on a jacket as a distraction. It wasn’t until she had sketched the piece that she realized she’d been thinking of it on him. She found herself irritated all over again, but she went out the next day and bought a light linen material to construct the piece.

As she carefully cut fabric for the sleeves, her phone buzzed across her desk. A rare Sunday night off and the diner was probably calling her in to cover for Helen. When she looked at the screen, she saw it was Brad. Despite her annoyance with his silence, she felt her heart leap into her throat.

“So you didn’t forget about me after all.” she said after she accepted the call.

He was silent for a moment. “No, I haven’t forgotten. Work is... hard.”

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“As bad as before?”

“Worse.” He sounded horrible. His voice was flat, lifeless.

She felt bad for him. And she felt bad that she’d been irritated with him. He had a stressful job, even if she didn’t know what it was. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s your schedule this coming week?”

“You mean when am I working at the diner?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Need a cup of hot chocolate?”

“No, I need to see you. Are you off on Wednesday?”

“No. I’m off on Tuesday.”

“I’m working Tuesday night.” He sounded defeated.

“Come in and see me at the diner on Wednesday like old times.”

He sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Are you sure this job is worth it, Brad?”

“It’s worth it,” he replied. “We’ll talk about it later. I promise.”

Notes