Back to You (16 page)

“Two,” he said softly, and finally...

“You wouldn’t dare?” she finally blurted out, just in the nick of time.

He laughed. “You know me too well. You know I’m all talk.”

“I dare you even think about doing that… when you haven’t even kissed me yet,” she scolded him. “You are such a brute.”

“Oh…” he said. “I wouldn’t want to be a brute now, would I?” he said softly as he leaned in to kiss her.

A soft gentle kiss.

His hand found its way under her skirt again, and he stroked her thigh softly.

But his kiss grew fierce, and the soft slide of his hands suddenly became an urgent pull.

Completely uninhibited, she took him in fully. She kissed every surface of his unshaven face feverishly, biting the edges of his jaw. She rubbed her hands against the warm skin of his stomach. She inhaled his musky scent and tasted him wholly.

She wanted him so badly.

But she thought about the kids at the beach.

“John…” she whispered, pulling herself from him. “Can you go lock the door?”

She hoped he would take her cue, but he tore himself away from her.

“It doesn’t lock from the inside,” he said softly.

Damn.

“Yes,” she said, her heart sinking. “We don’t want the kids–”

“It’s just that,” he started, slightly out of breath. “I didn’t expect this,” he told her. “You just said it yourself. We should really try to stay away from each other.”

“Oh… I see.” She didn’t really agree. And she certainly didn’t care what she had said. She wasn’t thinking logically. She wanted him so badly.

They stood still for a moment, looking at each other.

“I should go,” he said matter-of-factly.

She sat speechless.

He walked away, and left her sitting there on the workbench, wondering what the hell had just happened.

“John…” she called out. He was quite a ways in the distance, but he turned around and made his way to her – she clearly needed to talk. He was trying desperately to get away from her, but she was just too tempting.

“What are these games we keep playing?” she asked him, her eyes full of anger. “This pull and push,” she went on. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“I’m sorry. We just can’t…” he whispered. “Not under these circumstances.” He had not been expecting this today – at a picnic with the kids – he hadn’t exactly been prepared.

“Why not?” she asked, determined.

He grabbed her by the arm, upset – she was acting so out of control. Suddenly, he could no longer contain himself.

Maybe they
should
just go for it, he thought – common sense be damned.

“Do you really…” he said, dragging her back inside the shed.

He pressed her against the door. “Do you really want to do this?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

He wanted her so badly, but he knew it was wrong.

He slid his hand around her throat and to the back of her neck, pulling at her hair gently. “Are you sure?” His mind was telling him one thing, but his hands seemed to have minds of their own.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

He could feel himself weakening and completely giving in to her. She was making it so hard not to go through with it.

He kissed her neck gently. “Pressed against a door, in a filthy shed,” he went on, sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh – her skin was so damn soft and it was driving him wild. “A door which is not locked at the moment, I might add,” he told her, and as he spoke the words out loud, the absurdity of the situation became clearer to him.

“I don’t… care,” she breathed.

He pressed his head against her chest, shut his eyes tightly, and struggled to find a single ounce of strength.

Thankfully, he found it. And he would try another approach. “C’mon Snow…” he finally managed, taking his hands off her. “This is
us
we’re talking about…” he stressed, trying to instill some common sense into her, “you and me. I’m not just some guy you picked up in a bar.”

She looked at him quietly. He knew he had gotten through to her.

“Like I said… you and me, it’s inevitable,” he admitted. “We want each other so badly.”

She smiled at him. It seemed that for once, she completely agreed with him.

The desire was so intense, he was convinced it was painful not just for him, but for her as well.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this, but we will anyway. I don’t think we can help ourselves,” he said quietly “But I want our first time to be better than this,” he stressed. “I promise I won’t play games anymore.”

She frowned a little. She did not seem too pleased with the turn of events. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting absolutely insane… completely ignoring the consequences of our actions,” she admitted. “It’s just that you drive me wild,” she told him with a playful smile.

He gently pulled a lock of her hair away from her face. “Can you be good and be a little patient?”

Her eyes were more striking than ever. “I… I guess I could,” she said reluctantly. “But don’t make me wait too long.”

“I promise I won’t.”

He
definitely
would not be making her wait too long.

Chapter 14

SOPHIE woke up suddenly, and despite what she had hoped, she hadn’t forgotten her birthday.

In fact, it was the first thing on her mind when she woke up. She grabbed the extra bed pillow and covered her face – she absolutely didn’t want to face this day.

Forty. Forty was old. Well, forty is the new thirty, her mother had told her the day before. It had not helped.

To make the situation worse, Gloria had insisted on making a big deal out of it. Sophie had thought that if she completely ignored her birthday, it would be like it never happened. But then Gloria had to ruin it with her big plans.

Although, when Sophie really thought about her last two birthdays, which she had completely ignored, she had to admit they hadn’t been so great – they had been horrible.

Finally, Sophie reluctantly got out of bed. She realized she couldn’t stay in her room all day – her mother would never have it.

She slowly made her way to the kitchen, her fuzzy slipper covered feet sluggish.

Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, scribbling in a notebook. “Sophie,” she squealed, jumping to her feet and giving her a big hug, “happy birthday, my sweet girl.”

Sophie smiled – she hadn’t quite thought of herself as a sweet girl – more like an old hag. She made herself a cup of coffee, trying to avoid her mother’s gleeful antics.

“I’ve got big plans for today,” Gloria cheerfully told her. “But, I’ll need you out of here for a few hours.”

Sophie was annoyed – she didn’t like the idea of being kicked out of the house. “Well, where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have it all arranged,” Gloria told her daughter, still scribbling in her notebook.

“What do you mean?” Sophie asked, a little concerned. What had her mother cooked up now?

“You’ll see,” was all she said, with a little smirk. It wasn’t even nine o’clock, and her mother was already exhausting her.

“Jesse promised he would help me with the party preparations,” Gloria added. “Well… when he decides to get up, anyway.”

Sophie laughed. “That could be a while.”

“You should really have some food with that coffee, sweetie.”

Her mother hadn’t changed. She was forty, and her mother was still looking out for her – but Sophie figured that wasn’t a horrible thing.

“What is it going to be this time?” she asked, remembering the extravagant birthday parties her mother used to throw her – princess parties, masquerade balls, jungle safaris. “A princess tea party?” she joked.

Gloria smiled. “Actually, we’re doing a make-your-own pizza night. I thought it’d be fun.”

Sophie smiled. Yes, she liked it – it wasn’t too much of a fuss, and Jesse would love it. “Sounds great, Mom.”

Sophie smiled at her mother’s sweetness, and decided to take her advice and put a little food in her stomach, and made herself P&J on toast.

“So what
am
I doing today while you’re working on all this?” Sophie was curious.

“I’m not sure,” Gloria admitted. “But I’ve asked John to keep you occupied for a few hours,” she added with a little wink.

Her heart did a little flip. Sophie liked that. She liked the idea of what she could be doing with the day – he had promised he wouldn’t make her wait too long.

She smiled and looked at her mother.

Gloria looked up with a mischievous grin. “Consider it an early birthday present.”

John picked Sophie up not long after lunch, and the first thing he did when he came in the house, was give her a big birthday hug, lifting her right off the floor.

“Put me down,” she ordered, slightly irritated, but mostly amused. She had never been so enthusiastically hugged.

“How does it feel to be forty?” he asked, a big grin on his face.

She frowned at him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’re not cranky are you?” he asked. “You’re not allowed to be in a bad mood on your birthday.”

“A little bit,” she admitted.

“Well, I’ll do my best to change that,” he said, his smile playful.

She smiled as she wondered what he had in mind.

Unfortunately, despite Sophie’s hopes, John didn’t take her straight to his bed. He took her to town to walk around the shops.

“There’s a neat little art gallery,” he told her. “I know you like that kind of stuff.”

She smiled. “I do.”

They weren’t talking about their conversation the day before, or about what had happened in his workshop, or about making love.

But she desperately wanted to talk about it.

“John…” she started. “Why didn’t you take me to your place?” She knew she didn’t have to get into specifics – it was pretty obvious what she was asking him.

“I considered it,” he admitted. “But I want to make it a special night… make you dinner, maybe.”

She smiled. “That’s sweet. But all I want is you.”

“You haven’t tasted my famous spaghetti and meatballs.”

She laughed. “You enjoy making me suffer, don’t you?”

He didn’t smile. “I don’t know, maybe I’m scared,” he confessed. “There’s so much at stake. I don’t want to ruin what we have now. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

She smiled quietly. Maybe they were right to wait, and not just jump in his bed for a quick roll in the hay.

“There’s a bookstore in an old house I thought you might like,” he added, his steely eyes fixed on hers.

“I know that place. It’s been around forever,” she told him, remembering the smell of old books filling her nostrils as soon as she would step in the door. “I used to go there all the time. Don’t you remember?”

“I thought you spent all your time at the library.”

“Well, I did go to the library sometimes. But mostly I would hang out at the bookstore. They had these cozy chairs. We definitely have to go there.”

“See… I knew you’d be into that.”

She smiled. He always tried to please her, and he knew exactly what would. He knew her so well.

“You’re a nice guy, John,” she said matter-of-factly.

He laughed. “That’s really what a guy wants to hear, Snow.”

“What?!” she asked, surprised. Geez, couldn’t the guy take a compliment.

“Yep. I’m a nice guy, but I’m not
that
nice,” he said with a wink. He was doing it again – getting under her skin.

“I know that, John,” she told him. “I’ve seen a little bit of your bad side,” she added with a sly smile, fully knowing what he was alluding to. Yes, she knew John would be great in bed – she knew it all too well.

They walked the shops and went to the art gallery, but spent most of their time at the bookstore which was exactly as Sophie remembered it; old creaky floors, bookshelves lined with old and new books, cozy antique chairs and amazing old glass light fixtures.

“Thank you for taking me here,” Sophie told John, sitting on one of the cozy stuffed antique armchairs, a cookbook on her lap and a vanilla flavored tea sitting on the table between them. “I absolutely love it here. I could spend my days here,” she mused, looking up at the ornate coffered ceilings.

John looked up from his carpentry magazine and smiled at her – a sweet smile. “No problem.”

“How do you do that?” she asked. “How do you know exactly what I’ll like?”

“Because I know you.”

She smiled. “Do you, now?” she said with a quirky smile. Just because they weren’t hoping into bed right away, didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun. “And if you had to guess…” she said, biting her lip. “What would I like, now?”

He looked at her with a raised brow before speaking. He stretched out his hand, and put down his magazine on the table. Then, he leaned back and looked at her for the longest time, his steely eyes fixing hers.

She was dying to know what he would say.

Then, he smiled a slow, languid smile, not taking his eyes off her. “I think,” he started. “You would like me to get off this chair.”

“Uh...huh,” she listened intently, anticipation building, not quite able to look directly at him.

“And then you would like it if I took your hand,” he said softly. “And I think you would
love
it if I took you over to that storage room out back we walked by earlier. You know the one?”

She nodded a ‘yes’, not uttering a word. She couldn’t wait to see where he was going with this.

“I think you would like it there,” he said softly. “It’s dark, it’s quiet, and there are a
lot
of boxes,” he added smiling.

They sat silently for a few seconds. And her mind went to places it shouldn’t have gone.

“Well…” she said, feeling herself getting aroused. “What would we do, then?”

“Well, I think I’m getting carried away here,” he said softly, smiling up at the ceiling. “That’s what
I
would like. You asked me what
you
would like.”

She laughed. That was John – baiting her, and then leaving her hanging.

“And what would I like?” she asked between giggles.

He smiled. “I think you would love a big,” he hesitated, “a big scoop of tiger tail ice cream, just like you used to have, remember?”

She sighed. Yes, that did sound really good. “I try to stay away from that stuff. It goes straight to my rear.”

He laughed. “Honestly, I think your rear needs a little bit of it.”

Her mouth opened in shock. “What are you saying? You don’t like my rear?”

“Oh… I like it just fine,” he said with a wink. “But there’s nothing wrong with a little extra padding.”

“John Moretti,” she shrieked. “You are such a jerk.”

Sophie picked up a few cookbooks and a novel, and made a point of saying hello to Mr. Beaudoin, the store owner she had known as a young girl. She had recognized him on the way in, but he hadn’t noticed her.

“Hello Mr. Beaudoin,” she offered. “You probably don’t remember me.”

He studied her featured closely, his wrinkled eyes closing in on her face, the signs of an internal struggle building in his features – he was desperately trying to place her.

“I’m–”

“Sophie?” he asked with a huge smile.

“Yes,” she smiled, glad he had recognized her.

“It’s been so long, Sophie.”

“I know,” she said sheepishly. “I live in New York now.”

“How old are you now?” he asked without apology.

John smiled. “That’s a sore subject, Sir,” he told the elderly man.

Sophie sighed. John just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to push her buttons. “I’m forty. Actually it’s my birthday today.”

“Is it? That’s fantastic,” Mr. Beaudoin offered as he made his way around the counter and gave her a big squeeze. “Happy birthday, darling. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

“The man knows what he’s taking about, Sophie,” John chimed in, half-laughing at Sophie who was caged in the elderly man’s overly enthusiastic hug. This was her fourth wholehearted hug today, she mentally counted – first her mother, then Jesse, John, and now this man.

It hadn’t been such a bad day after all.

“I remember you,” he said, finally letting go of her. “You were here practically every day… all by yourself, drowning in books.”

“That sounds like her,” John offered with a smile.

“It’s so exciting to see you here,” Sophie said. “How long have you owned this place?”

“Over fifty years,” he said proudly, his voice gravelly.

“Wow,” she sighed, wondering how old he was – because he did look old – glassy eyes, toothless smile, frail hands, hunched back.

“Well, it has been an adventure,” he added smiling. “But I need to sell this year,” he explained. “I’m getting too old.”

“Oh… that’s a shame,” Sophie offered. “Could your children take it over?”

“Nope,” he replied with tired eyes. “They all live far away and have their own careers… and no interest.”

Sophie couldn’t fathom not having interest in a place as beautiful as this. “That’s a pity,” she offered. “Well, hopefully, you’ll find a good buyer who will keep the place just as it is.”

“I hope,” he said with a sigh, looking quite defeated.

But then, his sad face suddenly cheered up. “You have a big birthday party planned for tonight?” he asked.

“Yes,” Sophie answered with a frown.

“She’s not really looking forward to it,” John told him. “It’s the big 4-0.”

The old man laughed a big belly laugh. “Forty is not very old, darling. You are so young. And quite beautiful too,” he added with a wink.

John watched Sophie as she licked the orange ice cream dripping on her cone. It was hard to believe she was forty today.

“You know what that old guy said was true,” John told her. “Forty is young.”