Letting Go (5 page)

“Okay,” he yelled from his room.

She looked at the clock. No way she’d be on time, she’d suspected this when she went to the store on her way home. But vanity had compelled her to get a couple of items, and then the sale table caught her eye. Fast forward, she called Grant. He picked up on the second ring. She liked that.

“I am not accepting any excuses,” he said instead of hello.

“Good, because I don’t have an excuse for running late. I need an extra thirty minutes, I just got home.” She looked at the bag on her bed and smiled. If things played out the way she suspected, he’d be happy she made that stop. They’d been talking for a month since that day in the auditorium, conflicting schedules and last minute emergencies limited their contact to coffee one morning and telephone conversations.

Last night, they’d talked for three hours about politics; they disagreed on many things, community services and education. She enjoyed sparring with him, the man teased her mind, made her think, and that turned her on big time. Despite his poor choice in party affiliation, the man could think on his feet and understood the voters in his district. When she asked if he were a Tea Party member, he scoffed. Her nipples hardened in remembrance of his defense of increasing funding for children’s education. Not a normal reaction for her from a conservative politician.

“No problem. You sure I can’t pick you up?”

They’d argued this point last night. “No, but thanks for offering,” she said in a sugary sweet tone while pulling off her clothes before stepping into the shower.

“Okay. Write down this address. Let me know when the valet is parking your car, I’ll meet you.”

She wrote the information and set it aside, her mind on their night together. “See you soon, I need to get dressed.”

“Not for me you don’t.”

She shook her head. Grant had no qualms letting her know he found her attractive and he’d enjoy taking her to bed. He never apologized for calling her sexy or beautiful, never pretended he wanted more than conversation. She appreciated his frankness and decided to follow his lead. Tonight she’d show him.

“Yes, I do. I can’t afford to catch a cold and Robin would faint if I walked out the door naked. I can’t do that to my child.”

He laughed. “Okay, do what you need. I want to spend time with you tonight. See you soon.”

She grinned and disconnected. Looking at herself in the mirror, she pulled her hair up, twisted it and put on her shower cap. Her three mile walks every evening had paid off, her legs and arms were toned and tight.

“You have a former football player wanting all this, what are you going to do about him?” She practiced what she termed her sultry look and laughed. “You look constipated. Don’t scare him.” She lifted her breast in offering. “This is what I’m going to do about him.” She waited for her prudish side to kick in, to debate she didn’t know him, or that he just wanted sex, or one of the many excuses she’d used over the years to deny dates.

Nothing.

She stepped into the shower. “So all a man has to do is seduce my mind to get you to be quiet?” Last night, a direct reference to sex never came up in their conversation. But by the time she disconnected, her breasts ached and her core throbbed. The man had turned her on by talking about everything except sex.

Damn, he was good.

Forty-five minutes later, she stood in the lobby of the condominium high-rise. Security cleared her, but Grant wanted her to wait for him. She stood in the corridor with the bank of elevators, waiting.

The door opened. An older couple stepped out, nodded and headed around the corner. Another door opened behind her. She turned and watched Grant walk toward her. Without speaking, he took her hand and pulled her behind him into the elevator. His black tailored pants and open collar green and black short sleeved shirt gave him a dashing flair. The door hadn’t closed before he pulled her into his arms and held her close. She closed her eyes, inhaling his signature scent, woods and spice. Enclosed in his arms, her mind appreciated the sensations flooding her from the long strokes of his hand down her back.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a husky voice. His dick pressed into her stomach, co-signing the attraction. Before she could speak, the door opened. He squeezed her around the waist, took her hand, and walked out the metal box to the only door she could see.

“You didn’t say we were eating at your place.” She thought she should remind him of their dinner date, although his ideas for the evening matched hers. Grant Whittaker as the main course or dessert worked fine.

“I had to cancel the dinner reservations earlier before you called because I ran late. I didn’t want to wait until nine fifteen, so I ordered the food and brought it here.”

She nodded. “You could have mentioned that when I called.”

“I know. But I didn’t want to take a chance on you canceling or suggesting another time or place. If it bothers you to eat here, we can go someplace else. Now that you’re here I don’t care where we eat.”

A part of her wondered if she would have canceled, another part cheered over his candid mentioning of wanting to be with her, and another part scoffed at his explanation for taking away her choices.

“Something smells good,” she said rather than remark on his comments.

He squeezed her hand, kissed her on the cheek, and left the room. “I have the dining table set, please come this way. I figured you’d be hungry.” She followed him through the large, tastefully decorated living room. Someone had done a magnificent job of blending primary colors in a way that resulted in a soothing, yet stylish palette.

Her red, black and white print dress moved and brushed above her knees when she walked. Knowing the scraps of material she wore beneath gave her the confidence to move in the slow seductive walk she’d practiced. Grant stood near the table, watching. The look of unmistakable appreciation in his gaze fed her assurance that tonight would end her three year drought of celibacy.

“Would you like wine with your dinner? I have both, red, white, and a blush. Oh…that’s three.” He grinned and waved at her. “You’re distracting me. I promise to be a good host and not pounce on you, but you should know I find you sweet, sexy and smart. That combination is hard to swallow without wanting more.”

Unable to speak in the face of his transparent need, she nodded and took the seat. As adults, they’d ride this train to whatever destination they both agreed.

He held up two bottles and looked at her.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Oh, good question.” He lowered the bottles. “Beef Wellington or a lobster and shrimp dish. I can’t remember the name of it now, but they’re both good.”

“White wine is fine. I’ll have the seafood, thanks.”

Nodding, he poured the chilled wine into the glass. “I’ll bring the salads.” He paused. “They have a raspberry vinaigrette dressing, is that okay?”

She nodded, pleased he asked instead of assuming. “Yes, that’s fine.” She sipped the wine while he was gone and looked around the spacious area. It had an intimate feel, there were four chairs at the table, but she suspected it could be changed to seat as many as eight or ten guests without a problem. Abstract artwork graced the walls, and a large chandelier loomed above her head.

He returned and placed a small plate filled with a variety of lettuce and raw veggies in front of her.

She glanced at him and smiled her thanks. He nodded, placed his salad on the table in front of the chair next to her and sat.

“This looks great.”

“Good, I hope it tastes okay.” He snapped his fingers. “The bread, one second.” He stood and left the room. Moments later he returned with a covered wire basket. The aroma from the bread hit her, she groaned. Yeast rolls and biscuits were a weakness. Cutting back had been hard, but she’d broken her Krispy Kreme addiction. Now she ate bread once or twice a week depending on the situation. The aromas wafting from the basket made the decision easy for her, she’d eat a roll with dinner.

She uncovered the basket and gasped at the large blueberry muffin, yeast roll, and banana bread. How the hell could she choose? “Thank you,” she said and took the sliced banana bread. Her stomach groaned in anticipation. Her grandmother baked banana bread on every holiday and special occasions. The smell of the rare treat reminded her of family and all day gatherings that zeroed down to who got the last slice of banana bread.

Without looking at him, she took a bite. A moan of delight escaped and she bit into the sweet bread again. Damn. A person who’d denied sweets for a significant amount of time would understand her enjoyment of this moment. Her body vibrated as the sugar hit her blood stream. Let tonight’s decadence begin.

“Here’s more.”

Her eyes opened, strange she didn’t recall closing them, and she met Grant’s gaze. She couldn’t tell if amusement or concern filled his face, but lust had taken residence. She cleared her throat and thoughts. “What?”

“I went and got more bread out the kitchen since you finished that. Please take another piece and eat it like you did the first piece.”

Shock raced through her. She looked at her hand, sure enough she had eaten the entire slice and he’d watched. Heat, fast and sure, raced up her neck and settled on her face. “It tastes good, I haven’t tasted banana bread in a long time, and it used to be my favorite.”

“Seems like it’s still your favorite.” He smiled and picked up his fork. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She released her breath and picked up her fork. “You were teasing me.”

“No.” His voice turned serious. “I’ve got a boner the size of Texas from the sounds you made eating that bread. I can’t remember seeing or hearing anything so sexy. But I don’t want you uncomfortable, so I won’t talk about it or ask you for a repeat.”

She swallowed hard at the casual mention of his boner, and placed the first forkful of salad into her mouth. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Now and then she’d glance at the bread basket and then back to her plate. When she finished her salad, she realized he’d been watching her.

“What are your plans for next weekend?” he asked, reaching for her plate.

“I’ll be in Key West.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Spring break. I’ll spend most of it down there.”

“Who are you going with, Robin?”

She gave him cool points for remembering her son’s name. “Yeah, and Jessie.”

He frowned. “Who’s Jessie?”

“My sister.”

He nodded, stood, and took their plates. She sipped on her wine, thinking how his short sleeved shirt stretched across his chest and the muscles in his arms. Not bodybuilder worthy, but more than enough for a woman to notice.

Moments later he returned with two loaded, large plates, and placed one in front of her. Her eyes widened at the various treats. Shrimp scampi, a lobster tail, seafood au-gratin, a shrimp and scallop skewer, and steamed veggies. Stumped, she looked at him. “Lobster and shrimp, huh?”

He grinned. “I didn’t know what else to call it. I have to be careful with my words. Lots of seafood plate, is that better?”

She shook her head and dug into the scampi. “This looks good, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. How long are you going to be in Key West?”

“Eight days. Isn’t it spring break for you as well?”

“No, Blair’s break is this week.”

She nodded trying to remember which counties were on break, but couldn’t recall. So far neither of them talked about their kids and she appreciated that. Anything could happen. She didn’t want her son in the mix, not at this point anyway. As a single parent, she gave Grant a little leeway on his arrogance, being mom and dad made you that way at times. She figured he and his daughter, Blair, argued quite a bit over his bossy ways.

“When are you leaving?”

“We’re flying out next Friday and returning the following Saturday.”

“Can we get together again before you leave?”

She took a bite of her lobster dipped in drawn butter. “I don’t know, it’ll be a busy week at school, and I am taking off that Friday.”

He waited a few minutes before speaking into the silence. “I’m going to be honest with you. I am attracted to you, to everything about you. The way you talk, the way you think, the way you make me think, and that’s just the beginning. I know I come on strong. I go after what I want and not everyone’s comfortable with that approach. It works better in business and politics than personal relationships.”