Final Play (Matchplay Series) (6 page)

I told Olivia and
Marney the whole story and I was sure to emphasize the fact that Steel was a big and intimidating guy with equally scary friends.

“You sure know how to pick ‘
em,” Marney commented when I finished my story.

My sister placed a hand on my upper arm. “I think you need to really ask yourself if you think Ella is worth it. It sounds like she comes with a truckload full of baggage that you’re going to have to deal with.”

“Not to mention the fifty-eight exes,” Marney added. “One of which could probably snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to.”

“And it sounds to me like Steel has some feelings for Ella that he either doesn’t realize he has or he’s not willing to admit.”

“It’s a lot to consider,” I admitted. Even with everything that was being thrown at me, I still wanted to be with Ella. It made absolutely no rational sense whatsoever. If this was a balance sheet, there would be no question that being with Ella was a losing proposition. There were too many negatives to balance out the one positive thing—my feelings for her.

But affairs of the heart are nothing like accounting.
Unfortunately. And my feelings for Ella were so strong, and so irrational, there only seemed like one obvious conclusion. I had to be with her regardless of the challenges and consequences.

“I think I’m falling in love with her,” I admitted. And once the words were out there, they seemed so
right, I knew my fate was sealed.

My sister’s eyes went wide.
“You? Falling in love? And so quickly? I’m stunned.”

“So am I,” I admitted. I was the guy who didn’t even hold hands on the first date. I wasn’t the guy to fall for a girl on the first date. But Ella was different.

I felt like she was the one.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to go for it, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Good luck,”
Marney added.

“I’m sure everything will work if you give it some time,” my sister tried to assure me. That made one of us who
were confident in the eventual success of this venture.

I stood. “I’ll let the two of you get back to doing whatever it was you were doing.”

My sister jumped from the couch and grabbed my arm. “I have a job interview tomorrow. Wish me luck!”

“I’m sure you’ll knock their socks off with your mad skills,” I teased.

Marney was now at Olivia’s side. “She’s going to kick some interview ass.”

Olivia and
Marney always had a way of making me smile. Even when I still had a million unanswered questions swirling around in my head.

***

Sleep was not my friend. I tossed and turned most of the night until I finally got up to continue my research on bipolar disorder. Not only had I completely immersed myself in the psychiatric literature on the biochemical imbalance, I had found a number of memoirs written by people who had been diagnosed with the disorder. If I was going
to completely abandon all rationality and go headfirst into a relationship with Ella, I wanted to be armed with some facts about her diagnosis. 

I felt like I sleepwalked through my entire day at work. All I could think about was Ella and seeing her again. I couldn’t wait to feel her warm hand in mine, kiss her incredibly soft lips and hold her in my arms.

I felt like a complete sap.

All of the feelings were overwhelming and that was probably t
he reason I found it so difficult to work. The hours slowly ticked by until it was five o’clock. Then I powered down my laptop and headed to Ella’s place.

***

I was surprised that I actually felt a twinge of nervousness as I stood outside Ella’s front door. The feelings I had for her were so new and so raw, I guess I wasn’t sure how to handle them and it frightened me. I was the type of guy who liked to have everything under control. The guy who could solve every problem with my keen intellect and critical thinking skills.

But Ella was a puzzle I felt like I couldn’t solve. It was u
nnerving.

I finally took a deep breath and knocked on her door. It didn’t even take a second for Ella to answer.

“I was wondering how long you were going to stand there.” She gave me a huge grin that sent a wave through me that nearly knocked me to my knees.

“How did you know I was here?”

She grabbed my elbow and pulled me inside. “Let me get my purse and we can go grocery shopping. I’m looking forward to cooking our first meal together.”

I had to admit, I was, too.

She still had a hold of my elbow and she pulled me toward her bedroom. I swallowed because I wasn’t sure if getting her purse was her only reason for pulling me in there with her.

As much as I really wanted to take things slowly, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could refuse her advances towards me. Making love to her was something I absolutely craved and the intensity of that desire scared me. I felt like I could easily go off the deep end and completely lose myself in her.

I was sure she had no idea she already had me in every way. I was completely hers. I was lost in her spell. I would do absolutely anything for her.

When we got into her room, I took in everything around me. Each object felt like another clue to her being, another piece
of the Ella puzzle. I took note of a didgeridoo, an Indigenous Australian wind instrument, sitting on the floor next to her desk and a small zither, a stringed instrument on the desk next to it. I also noticed she had a djembe, an African drum, sitting in another corner of the room. I had to smile at the odd assortment of instruments. I wondered if she played all of them or just collected them.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked looking up at me.

“Not many people have a collection of international instruments in their bedrooms,” I laughed.

“There’s only one thing that I care about having in my be
droom, besides the bed of course.” She placed a hand on my chest. “You,” she said softly.

The room suddenly felt hotter. Or maybe it was just me. Or the fact that she had her hand on me and I was getting turned on.

I swallowed.

She was still looking up at me with her beautiful eyes and the moment seemed to expand and contract at the same time.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t feel okay. I felt like a ship that had been set out to sea without a map and without an anchor. I
had set sail in the unpredictable depths of Ella Warner.

I placed a soft kiss on Ella’s lips and the contact was so charged, I took in a quick breath.

Ella’s expression turned serious.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s not wrong. It’s too right.”

That made me wonder
if she was just as scared and confused and excited about what was going on between us as I was.

When my stomach rumbled, she laughed. “We’d better get to the grocery story. I don’t want your stomach to get mad at me.”

I guess I should have suspected when she said grocery store what Ella really meant was an organic health food market. It wasn’t the type of place that I normally frequented. I was more of a big box store kind of guy. Mainly because I didn’t have a lot of time to worry about shopping and I liked to stock up for as long as possible. The market she took me to was the kind of place you’d have to frequent on a daily basis in order to get fresh items.

“What do you feel like having?” Ella asked as we headed down the produce aisle. “We could make a salad.
Maybe some pasta?”

“Sounds good,” I agreed.

Ella filled our basket with all kinds of vegetables, some of which I had never actually eaten (like artichokes and kale). But she seemed to have something very specific in mind.

She also selected fresh angel hair pasta and told me she was going to make a pesto sauce.

“So, you don’t keep food in the house and you don’t eat very much but it sounds like you know how to cook...”

She glanced down at her sandals averting my gaze. “I do.”

“Did you do some cooking in your past?” As soon as the question escaped my lips, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. I had a feeling it probably had to do with the fifty-eight men in her past.

“Just a guy I hung out with for a while,” she said.
“Nothing serious. He was a chef and he taught me a few things.”

We were stopped in front of the fresh baked breads. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to include a loaf as part of the meal of not.
“Was it not serious because you didn’t want to get serious or he didn’t want to get serious?”

She shook her head then grabbed a French baguette. “I don’t know. We just spent some time together when I lived in New York. I thought maybe he had a girlfriend. We never really discussed it.”

I grabbed the thin loaf from her hands and placed it in the cart.

“That bread is exceptional with an olive oil and garlic dip,” she commented. “I could make some.”

She was quite skilled at finding ways to change the subject when she didn’t want to talk about something. “So did the chef just
crash
at your place like Steel?” I knew the words sounded colder and more possessive than I had intended.

When she looked at me, her eyes were narrowed, “Yeah, he did.”

“I just want you to know right now that I’m not someone who is just going to crash at your place. I’m very serious about everything in my life and that now includes you.”

She swallowed. I waited for her to say something but no words came out of her mouth. Had I rendered her speechless?

“Are you okay with that?” I prodded.

She started towards the checkout and I followed. It would have been nice to have an answer to my question but I didn’t push. She obviously needed some time.

“This is going to be a spectacular meal,” she commented as we placed the items on the conveyor to be scanned.

Once we were back in my car and headed back to her place, I decided to bring up the subject of our relationship again, even though I wasn’t sure if relationship was the proper term for whatever we had going on between us.

“You didn’t answer my question when we were in the market.”

She inhaled a deep breath and then let it out slowly and nois
ily. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. I told you I’ve never had a boyfriend. I have no idea why. Guys just never seem to want to get serious with me. There was never any problem getting guys to have sex with me. Obviously. But when it came to anything else, it just never happened.”

I decided to proceed with some caution because I wasn’t sure how she would take my next question. “Do you think maybe you jumped into sex too quickly?”

“Yeah,” she replied without hesitation. “I know I did. I always do.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It seems like it just happens. I guess it’s just too easy to be easy. The hard part is everything else. Plus, I think a lot of guys just want to get laid and they’ll take it where they can get it.”

“Maybe the guys didn’t see you as anything else because they never got the chance to get to know you.”

She laughed. “I’m not sure any of them really wanted to get to know me. I’m the three a.m. booty call. I’m the girl that you screw in the parking lot at work on your lunch hour. I’m not the girl that you call your girlfriend and bring home to meet your parents.”

“Why not?
What happens if a guy wants to call you his girlfriend and take you home to meet his parents? Then what?”

When I glanced over at Ella I could see there were tears streaming down her face and I was mad at myself for pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“And then what happens when you don’t want me anymore?” Her voice sounded dead and I felt even worse. I had no idea why I had even brought the subject up. I had a knack for becoming obsessive about certain things – like the other guys Ella had been with. We were enjoying ourselves in the market, why did I have to get so serious? Why couldn’t I just take things as they come? Why did I have to analyze everything to death?

I pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. Then I looked over at Ella and took her small hand in mine. “Can I have a do over? How about we just take things one day at a time and see what happens?”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, that I can do.”

“Now let’s fix dinner. I’m starving.”

She patted my stomach. “And I don’t want that belly of yours to get any angrier than it already is.”

Four

The sauce smelled fantastic, a mixture of basil and garlic that had my mouth watering.

“It’s almost ready,” Ella said as she dipped a teaspoon into the sauce and then brought it up to her lovely mouth to blow on it. She held the spoon up to my mouth. “Try it.”

I opened my mouth and she slid the spoon in. “Mmm, it is good.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she hummed.

She looked so content. She seemed to be a natural in the kitchen. She said she wasn’t much of an eater but she clearly could cook and she truly seemed to enjoy it. Cooking seemed to absorb her almost as much as painting. And when I observed the presentation of the dishes as she put everything together, the food almost looked like an art form.

“What?” Ella teased as she bumped my shoulder with hers.

“You cook food like you’re creating art.”

She cocked her head as if she was giving it some thought. “I guess so. I enjoy making things look beautiful, even if they’re only beautiful for a short period of time.”

“Maybe I should take a photo of the meal. Then we’ll have it documented indefinitely.”

She glanced up at me. “You really like it that much.”

“I do.” I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. “I like that even better.”

“Me, too.”
She was now glowing. I had a feeling I was, too.

I reached into my jean’s pocket and removed my iPhone. I snapped a shot of the food and then I took a few shots of Ella.

“Any chance I can talk you into getting a cell phone?” I asked.

She frowned. “What do I need one of those for?”

“So I can call you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cell phones turn people into
Pavlovian dogs but instead of salivating at the ring of a bell, they’re constantly checking for emails and text messages whenever their phones buzz. And if you don’t respond to people immediately, they get pissed off. I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

She had a point. I often felt tied to my smartphone.
“But what about emergencies? Or if I need to get a hold of you? Then what?”

“I don’t want the dinner to get cold.” She was avoiding my questions. She was so good at avoiding issues she didn’t want to talk about. “Grab the plates and I’ll grab two glasses of water.”

She pointed to the dinette table that was sitting next to a beautiful picture window. The table was already set with two lovely place settings. I sat the plates down. Ella followed with our drinks. Then she lit the red dinner candle in the middle of the table.

We took seats on opposite sides of the small table. When I glanced out the picture window, I noticed the sun was setting and it gave her backyard garden an enchanting glow. “You garden, too?”

“I told you I like to have beautiful things around me.”

“So do
I,” I replied as our eyes locked.

She laughed. “You know that’s a really cheesy line.”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But you are beautiful.”

She swallowed. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I’m sure I’m not the only person who thinks so and I know I’m not the only guy who has ever told you that.”

She glanced out into the garden and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “You’re not the only guy who has ever said that but you’re the only guy I know has really meant it.”

She looked over at me again and I confirmed my words were true. She was truly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. It wasn’t just her looks—it was her passion and zest for life. It was also her ability to
create
beauty and her willingness to share the beauty she has created with the world.

I could see a hint of a smile begin to cross her face. “Don’t just stare at me all night. You’ve got to eat your food before it gets cold.”

I had completely forgotten how hungry I was but as soon as Ella mentioned our dinner, my stomach reminded me of its need to get fed. “You’re right. I’m starving.”

“I can hear that.” She laughed. “Your stomach definitely has a voice and wants to be heard.”

The food exceeded my expectations. It was utterly divine.

“Have you ever eaten anything with your eyes closed?” Ella asked.

I shook my head.

“You should try it,” she prodded. “When you close your eyes, it heightens your other senses.
”

“How will I get the food in my mouth? If I miss, I might stab my face.”

She laughed. “Let me help.” She rose from her chair and took a place next to me. “Close your eyes.”

I did as I was instructed. I could hear her pick up my fork, at least that’s what it sounded like. Then she said, “Open your mouth.”

I opened my mouth and waited. She fed me some of the pasta. She was right. The flavor seemed to be enhanced significantly.

“See,” she boasted. “
It’s better, isn’t it?”

“It also seems to slow the eating process down enough to really enjoy the experience.”

She sat back down at her place on the other side of the table and beamed at me.

I continued to savor each and every bite until there wasn’t a morsel left on my plate. If it wasn’t completely offensive, I would have considered licking the plate.

“Do you have room for dessert?” she offered.

I lifted an eyebrow. “There’s more?” I felt my mouth water even though I was stuffed.

She rose and lightly touched my shoulder as she passed by and made her way to the kitchen area. I took in a breath as a wave of heat surged through my body. Just a single touch from Ella was enough to ignite a flame within me.

When she returned, Ella was carrying two strawberry shor
tcake tarts. Each one looked like a work of art. As much as I craved the delectable treats, they almost looked too lovely to eat.

Ella set a tart in front of me and sat back down with the other one. She watched as lifted my dessert fork. “This looks amazing.”

“Eat it,” she prodded. “I want to know how it tastes. It’s my first time making them.”

I put my fork down and looked at her. “You cannot tell me this is your first time making strawberry shortcake tarts and they look like this. This looks like something a professional would make.”

She laughed. I absolutely loved it when Ella laughed. Her joy was contagious and made me feel younger and more alive than I had in years.

“Just try it!”

Since she was waiting for my verdict, I happily obliged. I placed my fork in the dessert and made sure to get a bite with equal amounts of strawberry and whipped cream.

It was like Heaven on a fork. I don’t think I had ever tasted a dessert that good.

“Well?” she asked anxiously.

“It’s okay.”

She completely deflated.

“I’m kidding,” I said quickly and a thin smile returned to her face. “There is no greater dessert than this one. I hereby declare it the most delicious dessert on Earth.”

That made her laugh again. “You’re silly.”

“Aren’t you going to try it?”

Ella took the tiniest of slices and placed it in her mouth. She hummed with delight. “You’re right.” She grinned. “It’s okay.”

We both laughed.

After the dishes were washed, I pulled Ella close and gave her a quick kiss. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” When I gave her another kiss, it was slower and more passionate. Her taste was sweet, with hint of the strawberries we had eaten. “And dessert wasn’t bad either,” I whispered.

“Stay with me,” she said. I could see her eyes were filled with the same desire I felt. It was almost overwhelming how much I wanted Ella. I could feel myself getting hard as I held her against me.

“I thought we agreed we were going to take things slowly.”

She grinned. “We don’t have to fool around. We can just cuddle.” Then her expression turned more serious and she heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to be alone.”

I could understand her feelings. I didn’t feel like being alone either. But I wasn’t sure how easy it was going to be to
just cuddle
. I was already overwhelmed with the need to be with her. Once we were in the same bed, I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to keep that desire for her in check.

Before I could formulate a coherent response, she grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

I allowed her to pull me into her bedroom. I noticed a faint smell of jasmine as we entered the room.

“Incense,” she commented as if she were reading my mind. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” The scent was so delicate yet sensual, it reminded me of Ella.

Ella picked up her zither and strummed a few chords. The tone was haunting and ethereal. Then she sang a few verses of Asleep by the Smiths while she continued to play the zither. Her voice was angelic. I actually felt a bit of sadness when she stopped.

“Do you want to sing?” she asked.

I laughed. “No one wants to hear me sing. Screeching cats sound better than my singing.”

“Now I have to hear it,” she exclaimed. “What songs do you know?”

I shook my head. “I don’t normally memorize songs.”

“Come on,” she prodded. “You must know one song.”

“Imagine by John Lennon,” I said finally.

She started playing the opening of the song and when I started to sing the lyrics, I could see she was holding back laughter. When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, she went hysterical. “You’re right,” she managed to say between her wild chuckles. “You can’t sing at all.”

“I’m glad you find my utter lack of talent amusing,” I teased.

She tried very hard to compose herself but she was still overcome by the occasional snicker. 

“So, are you going to tell me about all of the exotic instr
uments you’ve collected?” I asked trying to rein her in.

She placed the zither back in its place on her desk. “I travel a lot. I don’t like every day run-of-the-mill souvenirs so I collect instruments everywhere I go.
”

“Tell me why you like traveling so much?”

Ella flopped on her bed and patted the spot next to her as an invitation. I eased onto the bed carefully and lay down next to her. “Should I take my shoes off?” I suddenly felt guilty about wearing my dirty loafers on her pristine lace bedspread.

She kicked off her slip-on sneakers and they landed on the floor. “Does that mean you want to play footsy?” she teased.

I removed my shoes and carefully placed them on the floor next to the bed. Then I relaxed next to her. “I thought you were going to tell me why you like traveling so much.”

“I never said I
liked
traveling,” she corrected. “I said I
did it a lot
.”

She got a faraway look in her eyes like she was remembering something.
Maybe her past excursions?

“Why do you do it if you don’t like it?” I asked.

It took her a moment to respond. “Maybe the same reason I go out with so many different guys. It’s an escape.”

“An escape from what?”
I probed.

She leaned back on her overstuffed pillows and let out a slow breath.
“An escape from myself. Although I’ve figured out that no matter how far I run, the part of me that I’m trying to escape from is still right there with me.”

I couldn’t resist the temptation to run my index finger down the porcelain skin of her upper arm. “Does that feel good?” I asked. “Or do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” 

“Good.” I continued to move my finger down her forearm. Then I lightly caressed all of her arm with all of my fingers.

She glanced up at me through her long lashes and smiled.  “You’ve making me shivery.”

“Also good.”
I turned her hand over and caressed her palm. When I thought she was a bit more relaxed I asked, “So why the need to escape from yourself.”

Her eyebrows narrowed like I was asking the dumbest que
stion in the world. “Because I’m crazy.”

“I haven’t seen any evidence of you being crazy,” I stated.

Her expression turned serious. “That’s because I’m currently medicated. I’m complying with my doctor’s orders. I’m being a good girl.” I noticed a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“Maybe I like it when you’re a good girl.”

She turned away and looked up at the white stucco ceiling. “I feel like a muted and hollow version of myself when I’m on meds. It’s as if the bright light that should be shining from deep within me has been dimmed.”

I couldn’t imagine a more dazzling person than the one next to me. The light she exuded was so bright it sometimes felt overpowering. I couldn’t image what it would be like if it was brighter. She would probably have the capacity
to completely consume me with illumination of any greater intensity.

She turned to face me again. “Does that scare you?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

Her expression turned more serious. “I can’t promise I’ll stay on my meds forever. And I may not always be this stable. You should be aware of that.”