Spinster? (10 page)

Tess didn't mention the fact that he made her girl parts ignite with the barest touch.
 

"Donovan's great, though," Willa threw in.

"Wait, what? You've met him?" Rebel said, sounding slightly offended. She was territorial sometimes about having number one bestie status.

"I saw him briefly, one time. He met Tess in the lobby, they were going to lunch. That gave me a firsthand appraisal on his physical attributes. The rest is what Tess has told me."

"He does sound pretty great," Jen agreed. They all nodded.

"He is. I like him, and I know you think I'm pulling a Seinfeld, but I just have my reservations."

"The dead wife thing, huh?" Marin said. Head of nail, smack.

Tess nodded. "Yeah. I hate to admit it, but I don't think I can compete with her memory. I don't even want to try, ya know?"

"Oh, sweetie, you don't have to compete. Be yourself, be you," Marin soothed.

"I know, and it's not insecurity talking. There've been signs is all. It makes me think he isn't ready," Tess admitted.

"Why don't you let him be the judge on whether he's ready or not," Emma said. Then she went still and whispered, "Dios mio and fuck me running."
 

Everyone looked at Emma, then to the object that had drawn her attention. Walking toward the table was a tall Asian man. His broad shoulders snug in a tight green t-shirt and dark wavy hair hung to his shoulders.
 

Tess didn't think it was possible, but if there was a such thing as a Korean Thor, this guy would be him.
 

"I'd let him put his hammer in me any day," Emma whispered.
 

"Hey!" Jen hissed, then stood up and threw her arms around K-Thor's neck. They kissed deeply, his hands digging into her hips. They all stared, soaking in the grope-tastic scene.

Marin cleared her throat. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Jen pulled away, her languid face looked like she'd drank a bottle of booze. "Girls, this is Alex. Alex, these are the girls."

"Hi, ladies." Damn, like butta'.

They all said hi and fussed over him for a second. Emma chewed her bottom lip for a few minutes then asked, "I'm not trying to be offensive." The girls groaned. "Shut it...I'm not trying to be offensive...but you have this whole Viking look going. It's not what you would call typical for your homeland...I'm Mexican, so I know a thing or two about vertically challenged races."

"Oh, God," Jen groaned.

Alex chuckled. "It's okay, baby." Ahhh, baby. "I actually get that a lot. My grandfather on my mother's side was Norwegian. I know, weird combo."

"Kind of like German and Korean," Jen added, smiling. She was a beautiful result of the unique pairing.

"I'm the only one, besides my grandfather, to have the height and broad shoulders. Genetics can be hit or miss." He grinned, his straight white teeth were worthy of a Colgate commercial. Jen hit the hottie jackpot.
 

Tess thought about her own genetic miss. She wasn't unattractive, but she felt she wasn't on par with her mom, or even her sister. Nope. Thanks, Dad, for the slow metabolism and strong nose. Thankfully, she did inherit kickass cheekbones and long lashes. The whole package worked—thanks in part to the gym, style, and swagger. Oh, and a top notch push-up bra. Victoria be thy name.

They pulled up a seat for Alex and he jumped right into the conversation, his hand always touching some part of Jen's body...appropriate, in public, parts of her body. When he excused himself to go to the restroom, the table erupted as soon as he was out of earshot, though the screeches could probably be heard easily in the men's room. He got everyone's approval, and Jen was beaming as a result.
 

"Thanks, guys. I may already be halfway between like and love. I've never felt like this before, but I'm going to take it slow, I promise."

"So, you haven't slept with him yet?" Willa asked.

"Did you look at him? Of course I've freaking slept with him! And I can tell you he inherited his penis from his Viking side as well," Jen admitted with a wink. The table erupted in "oohs," "how awesome," and "you lucky bitch."

 
Tess hugged Jen and whispered in her ear, "No matter where it goes, just enjoy the moment. He seems like a great guy."

Jen hugged her back. "I will."

Love was in the air and Tess was happy for her friend, but there was a niggling in the back of her mind. What if this guy
was
the one? Her biggest fear was being the only single left standing. Not because she needed a guy, but if everyone was coupled she'd be the odd woman out. A selfish part of her didn't want Alex to be
the
guy. Tess liked things how they were. But, she knew change was inevitable, and you either went with the ebb and flow or you got left behind.
 

Guilt washed over her. She refused to begrudge her dear friend true love, if there was a such thing.
 

Tess wasn't sure, and if there was, she sure as shiitake hadn't found it yet.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The cozy restaurant was almost empty, closing time not far off, yet they lingered, huddled around a small table in the corner. The only lights were small candles on each table and a dim overhead light shrouded in a cerulean fabric shade. Their plates had been cleared long ago, but they still had wine to drink. One thing was certain, Donovan Green was a nice guy. Sensing her trepidation with Ethiopian food, he let her switch it to Thai. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, let her order for herself...unlike that one douche bag who ordered for her while she was in the ladies' room, which wouldn't have been a problem if she'd told him what she wanted. Tess liked how his eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled, and how his hands bounced around when he told a story, causing his striped button down to pull tight on his biceps. He was nice...didn't she say that already? There was nothing wrong with nice. Nice was comforting. Nice was reliable. Nice didn't screw his assistant in the supply closet even though he knew you were coming to meet him for lunch.
 

And although she couldn't speak to the value of plant based proteins over milk based, it seemed a hot topic in the patchouli scented confines of his store she liked to call Kale Corner. Despite that fact, she nodded and mhmm'd frequently, asking open ended questions that kept him talking.
 

When your profession requires interviewing all walks of life, you have to have the whole "your life is so interesting to me," face down pat. Even when it couldn't be further from the truth. Like, for example, eighty-nine-year-old Bernice Tilton, the sweet, if not one saucer short of a tea set, subject of one of her first articles for the magazine. Her claim to fame being the largest collection of garden gnomes in the state. Tess thought her boss Gabe was joking when he threw out that gem during a pitch session. When she was the only one to laugh, she took in the silence around her and knew it was legit. Tess, who Gabe said had a way with old people—basis of opinion unknown—got the assignment.
 

She was never the first to laugh during a pitch session again. Lesson learned.

Four hours. That's how long she spent meandering through the lush gardens of Bea's grand estate. Arm in arm, Tess escorted Mrs. Tilton while the saucy matriarch regaled her with stories of her precious plaster collectables, her smoky gray hair in a firm nest on top of her head. Despite her age, Bea's memory was sharp and detailed. Every gnome had a story and a name. To this day, she was baffled where one would procure garden gnomes fashioned after the queens of England. She had to admit it was a little creepy, especially when the tour included the collection she kept in one of the spare bathrooms. Tess was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to drum up a drop with that Elvis gnome watching.

Needless to say, she'd honed that skill long ago. Donovan wasn't boring. He really wasn't. His new line of organic granola was interesting...ish, but he spoke with such enthusiasm that she couldn't help but smile.
 

"I'm sorry. I'm going on and on about my store and organic produce. I promise I'll stop talking shop...about my shop." He shook his head, as if embarrassed. His tendency toward the charmingly awkward was a direct contradiction to his outward appearance. That leveled the playing field for Tess, who might otherwise have been intimidated by his above par good looks and overtly outdoorsy lifestyle.

"You're fine. I like watching you talk about things you're passionate about—your whole body takes on this childlike animation. I find it adorable, if you must know."

"Adorable, huh? I guess that's better than hopelessly geeky."

"Hey, I have way too many things in my geekery closet to throw stones."
 

He leaned back in his chair. "Do tell."

"There's so much to choose from I would't know where to start...hmmm. Well, for one I wasn't always the greatness you see before you." She swept her hand down with flourish.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Oh, believe it. I was a second chair flautist...aaaand, member of the yearbook staff and the poetry club."

"That's not so bad."

"It is if you have braces and frizzy hair. And that was just my first two years of high school. Later I had the dubious honor of being saddled with an extremely embarrassing nickname." He raised his eyebrow. She let out a deep breath and said, "Chubbles." She groaned, putting her hands over her face. She kept the origin of said nickname to herself. She didn't want to come off pathetic, even though it was very much so in her opinion.
 

Donovan laughed. "You're full of it."

She peeked through her fingers, then smiled. "Oh, Donny, I wish I were."

His smile faltered. "Sorry, go ahead."

Her hands dropped. "Did I say something wrong? Too much geekery?"
 

His smile returned. "No, not at all. When you called me Donny...it just reminded me of someone."

One guess who used to call him that. Embarrassed, she hoped her neck wasn't as red as the cherry silk of her blouse. Her heart fluttered in a most uncomfortable way.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was trying to be funny and it slipped out. From now on, it's Donovan, I promise." She smiled, hoping to shed the oppressive blanket that was his wife's memory.

"Tess, no, please...it's...damn. I hate when that happens. It'll sneak up on me when I least expect it," he admitted, running his hands through his sandy curls. "You were saying, Chubbles?"

That caught Tess by surprise, so she let out a loud inelegant snort, causing him to laugh. Then they were both laughing. When her shoulders stopped shaking, she said, "That nickname is off the table, mister."

"Agreed. And for the record, that nickname no longer fits the beautiful woman before me...In fact, the only chubbles around is in my pants." He winked.

She laughed, and shook her head. "Thank you, I think."
 

They walked around the park trail after dinner, fingers entwined. The sky was clear and the moon large, almost blinding in it's brightness. Tess spotted two ducks swimming through the moonbeams reflecting on the dark waters of the pond. She was thinking what a pleasant date this had been, when Donovan pulled her to a stop, pulling her close. Her heart fluttered.

"My house is right up the road. Would you like to come over and have a drink? Or we could watch a movie. Not trying to be a creeper or anything. You know, luring you back to my lair to have my way with you, or anything..."
 

She put a gentle hand on his cheek. "Donovan, stop...I'd love to go back to your place, but on one condition."

He grinned. "Name it."

She lifted her chin to close the slight gap between them. "If, and only if, you
do
have your way with me," Tess whispered against his mouth.
 

His breath caught slightly, his only answer was the lazy trace of his tongue on her lip.

One of
 
her legs wrapped around his waist as he backed her against the wall in his front hallway. They were still fully clothed, yet she was well apprised on the full effect of his hardening situation. She could work with this. His hands were on her face, then in her hair, then to the backs of her thighs until he was cupping her ass. Tess rocked into him, her mind had checked out as soon as the seam of her jeans dug into her skin. His lips were soft, his tongue, forceful. This was far from "nice"...thank god. Her body was making decisions quicker than she could process them. She dropped her leg down onto the ground and pulled back, out of breath and flushed. "What are we doing?"

"I know it's been a while for me, but I'm pretty sure we're making out." He smiled and slid his hands down her legs, hoisting them both up and around his waist. He moved into the living room, as he continued their kissing session, deftly carrying her like she weighed nothing. She felt the give of the couch cushion before she saw it. Donovan laid between her legs and the kissing and soft fondling continued. She focused on the feel of his hands on her sides and stomach. His fingers were soft, but the pads of his palms had roughened spots. She liked how they scraped, then smoothed across her skin. When he lowered his mouth onto her neck, she sighed. She opened her eyes for a second. Her line of sight went to the wood mantel above the unlit fireplace. Her breath caught in her throat and she pushed him away. If she'd been a bull, her hoof would've been plowing into the dirt, because as far as red flags went, this one was huge and waving in her face.

"Stop...Donovan. We can't do this."

He looked confused, then went in to kiss her neck again, "Yes, we can."

"No, really, stop." That got his attention and he sat back. Tess pulled herself up and adjusted her shirt, feet now firmly on the ground and her head clear of hormones.

"What's wrong, Tess? I was really enjoying that. It seemed like you were, too. Was I reading it wrong?...I must be rustier than I thought."

She couldn't help but smile, and it pained her to say, "I was, but...Donovan...you're not ready."