First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (41 page)

I tilt my head up to face him. He leans down slowly, his eyelids lowering. I close my eyes, and he kisses me.

Bells are ringing. It’s the sound they make on set, either when the filming starts or ends—I can’t remember.

He kisses me, and every kind of bell I’ve ever heard goes off.

His lips are full, and envelop my lips. I’m hesitant, until he coaxes my lips into movement. Once I start, there’s no holding back. His gorgeous lips feel as good as they look.

His hand moves away from my chin and down to my bare leg. He squeezes the spot above my knee, then slides up one heavenly inch.

My lips part, and his tongue greets mine. Our tongues are shy at first, like two kids meeting on a playground. We take tentative licks and bumps, then move on to playful tongue wrestling.

His hand slides up my leg, one more inch. My whole body is thrumming, like it did when I stepped off the bike.

More bells are ringing.

His hand lifts off my leg and cups my breast.

I suck in my breath and pull away from the kiss.

He quickly pulls his hand away and mutters an apology, shaking his head. “Too much for the second date,” he says.

We both look around. It feels like every single one of the dozens of cast and crew on the set is looking at us. I’m sure it’s only three or four people, but it
feels
like all of them.

He leans away from me, picks up the beverage containers, and hands me one.

I sip my drink and pretend to be really interested in what the lighting technician is doing.

My head is light, and my whole body is reeling from that kiss. Can this whole evening really be happening? It’s like a dream, and I don’t want to wake up.

I take a few sips of my tea and enjoy the confusion and magic of this post-kiss moment.

I’m half-way through the cup when I realize it’s not tea.

I lean over and whisper, “Luca, I think I’m drinking your coffee.”

We trade cups, laughing over the fact neither of us notice sooner.

“I thought the coffee was just really weak,” he says.

“And I thought they brewed my tea using a goat’s backside.”

He chuckles. “You’re not a coffee fan.”

“Is that supposed to be good coffee?”

He takes a sip and looks thoughtful. “I don’t know. You’ve ruined me forever. All I can taste is your lips.”

“I’m sure the feeling will pass.”

He gazes down at my mouth. “I don’t want it to.”

I angle my body away from him, aware of all the people around us. They seem bored with the slow setup between filming takes, and happy to watch me and Luca for entertainment.

“Let me finish my tea before it gets cold,” I say.

“I can’t drink this coffee if you think it tastes like a goat’s backside. You won’t kiss me again if I do.”

“It was nice enough on your lips.”

He grabs my cup, and dumps both the tea and the coffee on the grass next to us.

“Problem solved,” he says, and he pulls me into another kiss.

I try to complain about my tea, but his lips smother my words.

I give in to the moment, not caring who’s watching.

His kisses are incredible.

Hours pass pleasantly.

After two hours of making out and watching the filming, Luca drives me back home.

We’ve kissed so much, my lips are actually the tiniest bit sore.

I hold on tight on the way home, savoring the feeling of him wrapped in my arms. I don’t want the ride to end, but it does.

We kiss goodnight in front of the main house, standing on the lawn.

“Luca, I had a wonderful time, but I’m not going to invite you in.”

He looks over my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to go in anyway. Your family’s nice, but nosy. Your sister’s watching us from the window.”

I turn and wave at Megan. She waves back, and doesn’t leave the window.

I shake my head. “Sorry about that. She’s probably making popcorn for the second half.”

“There’s a second half?”

I stand up on my toes and reach up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He kisses me eagerly, running his fingers through my hair. My curls mean my hair isn’t the easiest for a guy to run his fingers through, so he moves to my back.

His big, warm hands move up and down my back, like he’s worried I might disappear if he stops touching me.

After a satisfying second half of goodnight kissing, I pull away and give him a shy smile.

“Thanks for taking me to see a movie.”

“Are you free this Wednesday night?”

I pretend to think about it for a minute before saying yes.

Chapter 10

On Wednesday, Luca Lowell takes me out for dinner at a restaurant that’s just opened up. I feel like the prettiest girl in the world when I’m on his arm.

This is our third date, and he keeps dropping that fact into conversation.

“This is really the third one?” I ask, feigning forgetfulness.

“And the best one yet.” He yawns and rubs his eyes. “Sorry about that. This restaurant is too dark.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment that you feel relaxed around me.”

He smiles, his face looking weary. “I barely slept last night. Maybe two hours. Anyone who says renovations are easy is a liar. They’re also not fun, or cheap, or fast.”

“You were at the garage late?”

He rubs his eyes again, hiding another yawn behind his hand. “Lying awake in bed. One of my contractors has an alcohol abuse problem. By which I mean he drinks on the job and abuses my brand-new walls. I had to let him go.”

“Yikes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“You’re sweet. I bet you don’t even know what side of a hammer is for hitting the nail.”

I bat my eyelashes. “What’s a hammer?”

The waiter comes by to clear our dinner plates.

“May I interest you in dessert?” the waiter asks.

“Let’s start with a triple espresso,” Luca says.

I wave at the waiter. “No, no, no. Cancel that. No triple espresso.” I give Luca a serious look. “You’ll never sleep tonight if you have that now.”

The waiter looks at me, then Luca, and says to him, “Your wife is right. No caffeine after noon.”

Luca frowns at both of us. “Wife? I thought the customer was always right,” he says.

I slump down in my chair, dying of embarrassment.

The waiter nods at me. “Wife trumps customer.”

After the waiter leaves, I say to Luca, “That’s not right. We’re on our third date, and already I’m nagging you. I am so sorry.”

“This third date is the best one yet.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “It feels good to have someone looking out for me. It’s been a long time since somebody cared.”

The look of adoration on his face makes my chest ache and my eyes burn.

But then he yawns again, and I get a different feeling. Not a good one. Luca is so big and tough, which I like. Seeing him tired and vulnerable like this makes me uncomfortable.

This tired version of him isn’t the man I want. I like how safe he usually makes feel, like there’s nothing in this world that can get through his thick skin and bring him down.

“It’s getting late,” I say. “I’ll just take a cab home from here so you can go straight home and get to bed.”

“But—”

“Not another word, Mr. Five Yawns.” I reach for my purse and move to get up from the chair.

He points to his lips. I give him a kiss, thank him again for dinner, and leave. My inner voice is not happy with me.

Tina, you are being so rude. You just got up and left that beautiful man sitting alone in a restaurant. The waiter is going to think he offended his wife. And what about Luca’s feelings?

I wave down a cab in front of the restaurant and climb in without a glimpse back.

I can’t get back home fast enough.

Once I’m inside my cottage and alone again, I close all the windows and blinds.

I pull out the shoebox from the top of the closet and prepare for the ritual.

I wipe down the table, dim the lights, and take a seat.

I open the box and lay out the items, one at a time, beginning with the dried rose.

The blue dye that was used to make a white rose blue has faded away to a muddy grey. The dried petals are loose and threaten to disintegrate every time I handle it.

The flower would be nothing but garbage to anyone else who saw it, but it’s the most precious thing I own, because it reminds me that once there was a time I loved someone with everything I had, and he loved me.

But time takes away everything.

Chapter 11

Rory shows up at my place on Saturday afternoon. She lugs in enough food to cater a party of ten.

“This is way too much,” I tell her. “I’m only cooking dinner for myself and Luca.”

“Tell me more about this meal that you’re cooking, all by yourself.”

I chuckle. “Okay, fine. But just so you know, he’s a big guy, but he’s not that big.”

“Use the leftovers to make sandwiches.” She reaches into a canvas bag and pulls out what appears to be half a cow.

“Sandwiches? Sure. I’ll just use those ten loaves of bread I always keep in the house.”

“Ha ha.” She rolls her eyes.

I help her unload the other groceries, keeping an eye on the roast in case it tries to make a getaway.

There’s very little counter space in the micro-sized kitchen, so I haul the table closer for a makeshift prep area.

“What’s all this crunchy dust?” Rory asks, scowling at the table surface.

“Housekeeper’s day off,” I joke, grabbing a cloth to give it a quick wipe. The crunchy dust is from one of the dried rose petals.

After my ritual on Wednesday night, I left everything out, right up until an hour ago. Unfortunately, the sun streaming in the window degraded the rose, and two petals fell off. I’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I have something to tell you,” Rory says.

“Oh?” I get out the cutting board and start chopping carrots.

She whispers something so softly I can’t hear it.

I turn to find her pressing her lips together tightly, her face red with effort. What is she up to?

She whispers the word again. “Panties.”

I almost laugh, but catch myself.

She says it again, louder. “Panties.”

“That’s great, Rory! You’re making so much progress. Is this from the hypnosis tapes?”

She shakes her head, no.

“Did my sister drag you to her support group?”

She shakes her head, no. She’s grinning, like this is a new game for her.

I ask, “Can you say any of the other no-no words besides
panties
?”

“No.”

“That’s still really good, Rory. I’d hug you right now, if it wouldn’t send you screaming for the hills.”

She gives me a serious look. “I’m still not normal. I’ll never be normal.” She grabs some herbs and tosses them my way. “Now get to work, or date number four will be the one where you serve raw meat and carrot sticks.”

“Yes, Captain.”

For the next hour, we chop and sear and baste.

Rory works for a caterer, so making a gourmet meal is well within her skills. I don’t know what I was thinking when I offered to make Luca dinner.

Actually, I was probably thinking about the things
Cosmopolitan
magazine promises will happen on the fourth date.

Sex.

Right over there, on my fold-out sofabed.

That is, assuming I still remember how it’s done.

I look over at Rory and sigh. I wish I could talk to her about how I’m feeling right now, but she can’t handle any discussion of sex.

With my last boyfriend, I wasn’t this nervous. I can’t even remember what our first time was like, or even the last time. It was all just a blur of awkward grinding and apologies.

Oh, no. What if Luca is terrible at sex? What if that’s the reason he kept sending women flowers? What if he does some horrible, disgusting thing that makes them never want to see him again?

Rory stands up from checking the roast in the oven and looks at me. “Now what?” she asks. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“It’s our fourth date. That’s the date where people traditionally… play Scrabble.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks get pink, but she doesn’t run for the door. “And do you want that to happen?”

“Yes, but I’m worried that maybe he’s terrible at Scrabble. Like he puts the words in the wrong places, or he goes right for the triple word score immediately, instead of starting in the middle.”

She grabs the bottle of wine we were using for the sauce and pours a glass for me and one for her.

We take the glasses over to the couch and sit down.

She speaks carefully, “Maybe before you get the Scrabble board down from the closet, you should be very clear with him about the house rules.”

“As far as I know, I prefer the standard rules. Nothing fancy.”

She glugs down half her glass, then takes a deep breath.

“Have you guys played any warm-up games before tonight? Did you two… share the crossword puzzle?”

“Is that one you do with your hand, or is it more verbal?”

She covers her flushing face with her hand.

I rush to say, “Doesn’t matter, because I didn’t do either. I mean, a couple of times while we were kissing, I did brush up against his wildcard tiles, but I didn’t put my hand inside the velvet bag and grope around for anything special.”

“I think you’re going to be fine,” she says. “Just take it slow.”

I giggle into my wine glass. “It’s just that… most people play with seven tiles at a time, because they fit on the tile rack. I think my tile rack is standard, but what if he plays with eight tiles? Or nine, or ten? Oh my god, what if he plays with eleven letter tiles, and they’re wide ones?”

Rory leans forward, sets the wine glass on the coffee table, and then runs out of my place so fast, she leaves a little cartoon dust cloud behind her.

I pour her wine into my glass and keep thinking about letter tiles.

Chapter 12

Luca arrives right on time for dinner.

This time, he pays attention to my instructions and comes around the side of the main house, right to my door.

He’s got flowers in his hands—a beautiful mixed flower arrangement, in a vase I recognize from my shop.