Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (18 page)

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Authors: Donna McDonald

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BOOK: Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late)
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Lydia snorted. Morrison and his ideas. She was nervous, sick, and scared of his masculine needs. He’d watched her vomit from just coming into contact with his waning interest in her, not even his full excitement. And still he was determined to pursue her? The man was certifiable.

“You and your damn ideas,” Lydia said fiercely, putting her thoughts into words as she put the washcloth over her eyes to shut out the sight of him.

“Lydia, I’ve been in therapy since Evelyn died. The doctor I see is really good and may have some ideas of how we can handle this without you getting sick over every little thing that comes up in our relationship,” Morrie said, only realizing what he’d said after Lydia started to laugh. “Maybe I could have phrased that a bit better. I was not inferring anything about my size when I said
little
.”

“Morrison, if you were, you would be the first male to ever admit the truth,” Lydia said, wiping away the burning moisture that kept gathering in her eyes.

“Well, have you ever heard it’s not the size of the ship but the motion of the ocean that counts?” Morrie asked.

“Unfortunately yes,” Lydia said, through the cloth.

“Good—because I’m a professional ocean traveler,” Morrie said with grin.

Lydia laughed and pulled the cloth away. “Stop—please. I wasn’t trying to insult your. . .bedroom talents. I’m sure you’re quite adequate.”

“Adequate? Okay, we’ll go with that. I haven’t had too many complaints, but in my experience, bedroom talent is about two people. My marriage spanned decades and enough hard times to know it takes both people wanting it to be good. The two women since my wife barely registered on my brain because the one was too much a friend and the other was just a woman I felt sorry for. Neither was going beyond the one time and in retrospect neither should have happened,” Morrie said, continuing even when she looked away. “I had no chemistry with them, certainly not the kind I have with you.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Lydia said.

“Actually, I do. Because like it or not Lydia, you I care about, even though our bedroom talent is only speculative at this point. If you agree that the sexual attraction between us is worth a shot, we’ll go see a therapist and get some professional help. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we have a chance,” Morrie said. “And you have my solemn vow that I will never tease you about it, or tell a living soul we’re doing it, no matter what the outcome ends up being.”

“Let’s go to therapy, he says as if it were no big deal. Why am I still listening to the ravings of a madman
?
” Lydia asked the woman in the mirror.

“Boy, now that’s what I call really talking to yourself,” Morrie observed, tilting his head to look at her.

Lydia turned from her own reflection to give him a hard look. “Well, here’s a big secret that will no doubt inflate that massive ego of yours further. I’ve already been to therapy over you. I was trying to get my plumbing fixed before I ended up standing over the toilet having a panic attack. I saw this moment happening from the first time you threatened me.”

“I don’t threat, I promise. You need to learn the difference. And it just makes me like you more for thinking I’m worth the emotional discomfort I’m sure that caused you,” Morrie said sincerely, holding her gaze. “If you agree to go with me as a couple, we can use your therapist.”

“Are you sure? Mine is pretty notorious. I go to Regina Logan because she’s a friend of Lauren’s. What?” Lydia said, studying Morrie’s sudden wide gaze.

“Dr. Logan is my therapist too,” Morrie admitted, rubbing his chin. “She’s very direct.”

“Tell me about it,” Lydia agreed, not surprised by the news he was also seeing Regina. It was like the whole world was conspiring against her and making her go through this torture. “I need to drink some water before I get more dehydrated. It’s hell on the skin.”

Stalling her answer until she had a moment to think about whether or not she trusted Morrison to keep his promises, Lydia walked out of the bathroom and back to the kitchen.

It was a surprise to realize that she no longer worried about Morrison following her around her house. Something in the act of purging her body had purged some of her fears as well. It had opened a channel of calm inside her, allowing her to contemplate that the man in her house was making her an offer no man before him ever had.

She was on her second glass of water when Morrison finally made his way back to the kitchen. He stopped in the middle of the floor, carefully leaving some distance between them.

“I need you to believe me, Lydia. I know I tease too much, but I swear this is not a threat, not a joke, not something I’m even going to press you to decide today. I sincerely do want you. I want you the way a man is supposed to want a woman, and in a way I haven’t felt in a long while. All I can say is that if you want me at all, and you want to work it out so we can maybe be intimate at some point during the time we know each other, I’m willing to do what it takes,” he said. “That’s the only promise I can make at the moment.”

“But
why
would you do this, Morrison? Just because you like the way my ass looks in clothes?” Lydia taunted.

Morrie shook his head, laughing at her pleading tone. “Well, liking your ass is still part of it or we wouldn’t be talking about
sex
therapy. Instead, we’d have an affair of the mind and remain just friends for the rest of our lives. Since I keep fantasizing about being inside you and doing my damn best to give you a climax, I don’t see the ‘just friends’ thing working for me. How about you? Why are you considering it? And don’t lie to me, because if you weren’t—I’d be gone now instead of standing in your kitchen.”

Lydia tipped the glass, drinking the last of the water down before she answered.

“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted at last. “You confuse me. But at the same time, some voice inside me is saying that you just may be my last chance to find out what I’ve been missing all these years.”

Morrie thought about her statement. Did she really think her interest in him was just idle curiosity?

“Lydia, even if we end up not being able to be intimate—though I certainly don’t think that’s going to happen—I’m still willing to go with you to therapy. I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you, and the truth is I’m a man who has followed his instincts too damn long to stop at sixty-two. My instincts proved right when you hugged me back last week. You irritate the shit out of me, but you also make me laugh and feel like a teenager again. We have a connection. We have had from the beginning,” Morrie said. “Or at least—that’s how I see it.”

“I’m not a coward, not about most things, but I’m not looking forward to throwing up every time you get—excited—about things between us,” Lydia said, releasing a ragged sigh and thinking they were both crazy to be talking like they really were in a relationship. But she had to admit, Morrison had finally worn down the last of her defenses. Regina Logan might have to pull out her textbooks for the two of them, but so be it.

“I have an appointment with Regina next Tuesday. You’re welcome to come along,” Lydia said in defeat. “I’ve haven’t told her much about you, so I don’t know how she’ll feel about you just showing up.”

“She’ll tell us if it’s a problem for her. How about I’ll come get you and we can go together?” Morrie suggested, walking to where she stood. “Can we try that hug again? I’m under control now. No more scary erections today.”

“Oh shut up. It wasn’t
that
scary. I just overreacted. It’s been a really long time for me, and I was never—oh just shut up and hug me,” Lydia said fiercely, moving first and putting her arms around him. It was better than having his sympathetic gaze boring into her brain. She felt his arms close cautiously, pulling tighter bit by tiny bit until she was on the verge of being squeezed so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t betray my trust, Morrison,” she instructed. “I’d hate to spend the rest of my life in prison for killing you. I’m not nice anymore. I don’t have the patience for another cheating man.”

He tightened his arms possessively, kissing the top of her head, telling himself to be content that he’d gotten this far. It was hard to be patient when all he wanted in the world was to drag the woman to the nearest flat surface and get horizontal with her. If they ever got that far, he vowed it wouldn’t take long for her to figure out that he was a one-woman man.

Her hesitant acceptance of his embraces had officially regressed him to the state of a horny teenager, a condition that likely wasn’t going to improve anytime soon. But he wouldn’t change a thing, especially since it kind of thrilled him to know no other man had gotten this far.

“I’m sure no jury would convict you of murder if you told them about the bet,” Morrie admitted, rubbing her back, absurdly happy when he felt Lydia laugh and tighten her hold. It made him very hopeful. “So does this voluntary hug mean you’ve accepted my apology.”

“I don’t know. A part of me is still mad. Would your wife have accepted it?” Lydia asked, closing her eyes to better enjoy the mini-backrub she was getting.

“Eventually—after she’d finished making me pay for hurting her feelings. Her emotional weapon of choice was guilt,” Morrie teased.

“Well I guess my weapon of choice is being mean,” Lydia conceded. “But it’s because you act so crazy all the time.”

Morrie laughed. “If I’m crazy, it’s because you make me that way. I’m still a guy, and you’re still sexy to me. Right now I’m making mental lists of things I have to do tomorrow to keep from getting excited every time I stroke your back. I’m already thinking how much better this hug would be without clothes.”

“You’re incorrigible, but I’m too numb to be shocked anymore,” Lydia said, laughing against him, trying to listen to the tiny voice inside her saying she was over the first scary hurdle. It still felt very surreal to be this close to a man after so many years of being alone.

Needing to know this was really happening, that she—Lydia McCarthy—was really standing in her kitchen holding a man who wanted her, she tightened her arms around Morrison’s waist until he grunted. Her laughter over his undignified sound earned her a hair tug, but Lydia pulled away before Morrison could follow through on the blatant intention to get physical that she was starting to recognize in his gaze.

Lord, the man could unnerve her with a look even before he starting talking. She might seriously have to take a sedative to make it through next Tuesday.

Her face heated at the thought of what Regina was going to say, and what Regina might make her say. The idea of confessing more than she already had filled her with new dread.

“Lydia, if we’re going to start going to therapy together, I think we should date too,” Morrie said, hoping the suggestion sounded logical instead of scheming.

“Define date,” Lydia said, pressing her face into his shirt.

“Movies, dinner, the usual,” Morrie said with a grin into the top of her hair.

“Okay—we can probably date if you promise to restrain yourself,” Lydia answered, laughing when he held her at arms length.

“Seriously? How about tomorrow?” he asked.

“Fine. Tomorrow,” she said. “But no fooling around. Just a friendly, companionable dinner.”

Morrie sighed greatly and pulled her back into his arms. “Fine. But if there’s no chance of sex, I may make you split the bill with me. When you start putting out, then I’ll buy.”

Lydia wiggled from his hold and pushed him away, smacking his chest with the palm of her hand to make sure he knew how irritated she was over his comment.

“It’s hard to believe you were ever married. You
must
be outstanding in bed, because that’s the only reason a normal woman would ever have for putting up with your irritating teasing. And just for the record, at the current time your allure as a potential bed companion is lost on me. So try being nice instead.”

“Honey, I can’t wait to show you the full range of my redeeming qualities,” Morrie declared, putting a hand over his heart. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening at seven. Now I’ll see myself out before I get into more trouble. There are limits to my self-control. When we start trading insults, it fires me up. I start wanting to seduce you.”

Lydia followed him to the door anyway, watching him smile as he opened it to leave.

“Morrison?” she said, biting her bottom lip, remembering how it felt when he did it. It unnerved her, but it was also a little exciting to think about him doing it again.

“Yes,” he replied, stopping and tilting his head to listen.

Lydia took a deep breath and lifted her chin. The right thing needed to be said. She owed it to him. “Thank you for the flowers, the apology, and—everything. I appreciate all of it.”

“Honey, please stop. Don’t start being too nice yet. It has a pretty significant effect on me. I can’t tell you how much I want to stay right now,” Morrie said, studying her hopeful expression as she soaked up his words. “We both know you’re nowhere near ready to find out how outstanding I am. So we’ll start from the beginning. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Lydia nodded as he closed the door quietly behind him.

Chapter 14

 

“Something smells good,” Morrie said, when Lydia answered the door. “Did you cook? Honey, I’m flattered.”

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