Mia Like Crazy (23 page)

The living room would arouse the least suspicion—I might catch him unawares, but there was no bed and I really wanted the first time to be perfect. The kitchen was the room where he was most relaxed, but again—no bed.

His bedroom would be the most convenient, since there was a bed, and he went into it regularly. I wasn’t thrilled about the sterile aspect of it and I was worried his being there would reinforce his control freak tendencies, but it would probably have to do, unless I changed my mind and went with whatever felt right.

He was unpacking the lunch we had picked up at a sandwich shop down the street.

“Can you put it in the refrigerator?” I asked from the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m not hungry yet.”

“I thought we bought it because you couldn’t wait long enough for me to make something,” he complained.

“Well, walking takes away my appetite…temporarily.” It was lame, but he accepted it.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m not hungry yet anyway.”

I changed my plan yet again. I waited in the dining area near the window. It seemed like a romantic spot, so I glanced out and found something to show Drew to lure him over. When I was about to lose my nerve, he came out of the kitchen.

“Come here, Drew,” I said. “Isn’t that puppy
adorable
!” I pointed to where a woman was walking a beagle puppy on the sidewalk outside.

“
Adorable
!” he mimicked, causing me to laugh for the hundredth time that morning.

Then, I turned toward him, clutched the sides of his open jacket and gazed up into his eyes. I had never seen anyone more handsome than Drew was when he was smiling. The plan was out the window. I was going on pure instinct, urge, impulse. He looked down at me and placed his hands lightly on my hips.

“You know…I love
you, Drew.”

I hadn’t planned to say it. It had just popped out.

He
looked stunned. I didn’t see how he could possibly be surprised by the words after all we’d been through, but hearing me say them obviously meant the world to him. His smile faded and he opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

Suddenly, he moved his hands to my back and crushed my body to his. His mouth closed down on mine. Warm, wet, passionate.

One hand moved to the back of my head and applied enough pressure so he could deepen the kiss. Its heat radiated down to my toes. My fingers raked through his hair, as his hand caressed my back.

I was already imagining making love to him, eagerly, passionately. When, at last, our mouths lost contact, I was breathless and hot. He continued kissing my ears and neck with an abandon I hadn’t dared to expect.

When his hands moved down and pulled my hips against his, it felt so intimate, so real, so right. I wanted him to know how he was making me feel.

I whispered in his ear, “I
want
you, Drew.”

It was as if I’d thrown cold water on him. He froze and released his hold on me. He shook his head slightly, apparently to clear it of the passionate frenzy he had succumbed to only seconds earlier.

“No, Mia. Not now. Not like this.”

Not like what? Beautiful, passionate, loving?

“When?” I pleaded.

His face suddenly held a new expression, and I thought he looked resolved to whatever he had just decided in that baffling brain of his.

“Tonight,” he said. “I’ll make you a nice dinner and everything.”

“We are talking about ‘you know,’ aren’t we?” I asked, throwing his own euphemism back at him.

“Yeah. We’ll do it right.”

I didn’t know we could do it wrong
. “Okay, tonight.” I really didn’t have a choice, anyway.

“Oh,” he said. “Try not to look too…
alluring
.” He disappeared up the stairs.

I had never been so puzzled in my life.

We can’t do it now, but we can do it tonight. Telling him I want him is apparently a deal breaker… Oh, and I’m not supposed to wear anything ‘alluring.’

It is like trying to make love to an alien.

Chapter Fourteen

Never had I had such a hard time picking an outfit. What did he want me to look like?
A banker? A librarian? An Indian chief?

So far ‘Alluring Attorney’ wasn’t working for me. I searched through my closet, hanger by hanger. I had always thought of my work wardrobe as professional and somewhat conservative. But after what Drew had said, everything was suddenly very sexy. This blouse was kind of low cut. That skirt was a little snug. At one point, I put on my jeans and a loose t-shirt I’d gotten free for participating in a charity “fun run,” but I felt so hideous when I saw myself in the mirror I immediately tore it all off.

Finally, I reached the back of my closet where there was a dress I had worn only twice. It had a round neck, which only showed the very top portion of my chest, with long sleeves and a straight loose fit. I called it my “funeral dress” because I bought it to wear to somber occasions, but it was no gunnysack, and it was in his favorite color.

I put it on and decided I didn’t look too bad. It seemed appropriate with this dress to wear my hair up so I piled it on top of my head with some loose ringlets here and there, much like it was for the wedding.

It took some effort not to overdo the makeup. When I went to put on a pair of shoes, I discovered another problem. As I considered the array of very high heels in front of me, I felt downright slutty. Perhaps, all this time, he just didn’t want to feel like he was making love to a streetwalker.

Tired of doubting my own judgment, I reminded myself it was Drew who was the oddity, and any other man would have loved my wardrobe.

~

Drew liked to eat at seven every night, but I decided to reclaim whatever control—and dignity—I could muster under the circumstances and wait an extra fifteen minutes to go downstairs.

I hoped he was suffering from as much anxiety, while watching for my arrival, as I had suffered with my wardrobe dilemma.

At seven-fifteen, I realized the wait had probably tortured me more than it had him, and I headed down the stairs. The living area was darker than usual, so, for a second, I thought I’d been duped and he had left while I was getting dressed.

Then I saw the table, with two long tapered candles lit in the middle. On both the windowsill and the end table nearest the dining area, there were four smaller candles, also lit. It looked magical. The salads had already been set in their respective places and a glass of wine waited for me at my usual spot.

That crazy control freak really is trying to do it right
.

I was touched by the effort he had put into our special evening. He came out of the kitchen, right on cue, and pulled out my chair for me.

He had switched his usual white shirt for a light gray silk t-shirt, still under a black suit, and he looked wonderful. I imagined how the silk would feel to my hands when I ran them up his chest.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

So “funeral dress” it is
.

Then I noticed something unusual. Drew was a creature of habit, and every night he drank one, never two, glasses of wine with dinner. Tonight, his wine glass held only water.

That’s a great idea
.
Let’s raise your inhibitions.

~

Dinner was wonderful. Drew had made two of my favorite dishes—lasagna and fettuccine Alfredo. I had to remind myself not to overindulge. I certainly didn’t want to fall asleep too soon.

For dessert, he brought out some chocolate mousse. He wasn’t very interested in sweets, other than Meridith’s cookies, so I knew this was only for my benefit. While I held a spoon in my right hand, licking chocolate mousse off it and giggling like a little girl, he reached across the table and took my left hand in his. He rubbed his thumb back and forth against the rings he’d given me and teased me about my table manners.

We sat, that way, talking and laughing for nearly an hour. I had never felt closer to him. Several moments of silence followed in which I desperately hoped I wouldn’t have to be the one to bring up the subject that was on our minds—
not this time
.

But just as he had taken the lead with everything else, Drew broke the ice on the topic at hand as well. “Your room or mine?” he asked.

“Absolutely anywhere you want.”

“My room’s cleaner.” He flashed a charming smile.

“Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”

He stood up from the table, but instead of leading me up the stairs with him, he kissed the back of the hand he was holding and said, “I’ll meet you up there in five minutes,” and left.

I wondered what was going on during my wait. With Drew, one never knew. After checking the clock on the wall several times, I determined that five minutes was a very long time.

Finally, when the time was up, I stood and walked up the stairs to his room. The door wasn’t closed completely, so I pushed it gently to peek inside.

I was awe-struck. He had transformed his sterile cell into a love nest, bathed by the light of dozens of little candles.

It hit me that no one in my life had ever put the kind of effort into pleasing me that Drew did every day, and now…

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. Drew saw me and pulled the door open before I could wipe them away.

“Have you been standing there long?”

“No…I was admiring what you’ve done with the place.”

“I was hoping you’d like it.” A genuine smile let his face.

He was never more handsome. I had butterflies in my stomach.

“I like everything you’ve done tonight.” As I spoke, he reached up and wiped a tear from beneath my eye. He’d removed his jacket before I came in, so he was as undressed as I’d ever seen him.

He took my hand and led me toward the bed. “Did you hear, we got married a while back?” he asked.

“I heard it, but I didn’t believe it.”

“It’s true,” he insisted as he took the pins out of my hair and watched the strands fall to my shoulders.

“Prove it.”

Drew lifted my left hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles right above my wedding rings. Then, without taking his eyes off mine, he turned my palm up and pressed his warm lips to it, as he’d done when he proposed. My heart banged against my ribs.

He raised my hand over my head and twirled me around to face away from him. He inspected the back of my dress. “Good, no buttons.”

I laughed nervously as he grasped the top of the zipper and pulled it down inch by inch. I was sure if he did everything this slowly, I would go crazy before we’d consummated our marriage.

His thumb skimmed my flesh, sending a pleasure chill down my spine, setting all my nerve-endings on high alert. I moaned and arched, like I had before. But, this time, I was sure he did it intentionally.

When I faced him again, he pushed the dress off my shoulders and skimmed it all the way down my body to my ankles. I placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of it. He laid it very carefully on the black chair in the corner.

When he
turned and looked at me
, he went still. I tried to imagine myself through his eyes as I stood there in my most beautiful white lingerie, bare legs and black pumps. He took a deep, slow breath as if fighting for control. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to control himself anymore, but I was afraid of saying the wrong thing.