Leaving Normal (34 page)

She stood at the sink, her hip resting against the counter. She wore a pair of black slacks and a black-and-pink top. It clung to her skin, the sleeves long, the neckline a deep vee that cut to the middle of her cleavage. She looked great. Her hair was down, in a long and layered cut. He liked it. A lot of women in their thirties cut their hair. Even though Natalie was in her forties he liked that she chose to wear it longer.

"Everything's ready." Her voice drifted into his thoughts. "I'll serve you, if that's okay."

It was more than okay.

She picked up the plates, put food on them and returned the plates to the table.

"I'm impressed," he said, looking at what she'd served him. It was angel-hair pasta with shrimp, tomatoes, pine nuts and spinach with a rose-colored sauce. "It smells really great."

"Thanks. I hope you like it."

Now, as she sat down close to him, he could see that nerves were setting in. He reached out, touched her hand. "Relax."

She took a sip of wine, gazed at him over the rim, smiled while she drank, then set her glass down. "Of course. Yes. I will try."

She tried to make light of her sudden bout of anxiety, but she wasn't very good at it. Why he could still make her nervous after they'd been together in so many different situations, he wasn't sure. He just knew he wanted her to be herself, to enjoy the evening.

They ate and talked about her daughter not coming home for Easter.

"I have a feeling this boy is bad news for her," Natalie said, taking a thoughtful sip of wine, "but sometimes there's no talking to a teenager."

Genuinely interested, he asked, "Was she a good kid in high school?"

"An 'A' student. Honors classes. Very bright. She's at Columbia College Chicago on a scholarship. She's studying graphic arts. She likes drawing, advertising, that kind of thing."

"That's great."

"This boyfriend of hers… I just can't picture her with him. I don't know him well enough to make a final judgment. Just call it mother's intuition. Wait until you have kids of your own. You'll know what I'm talking about."

The comment was made casually, but it lingered in the room and Natalie looked down at her plate.

Without changing the inflection in his tone, Tony said, "I'm sure I will."

To that, Natalie gazed at him. "Cassie seems happy with Austin, but the last couple of times I've had her on the phone she's anxious to get rid of me. She's distracted, like he's in the room with her and she can't talk freely or something."

"He wouldn't be abusing her or anything?"

Natalie took a bite of shrimp, then lowered her fork. "I don't think so." Then with conviction. "No. He might be flaky, but I can't see him as the type, and Cassie would tell me if she was in trouble."

"Kids do things you don't expect. I went on a call where a teen girl delivered a baby in the bathroom— her parents never even knew she was pregnant."

Natalie's face blanched. Tony reached over and touched her hand. "I'm not saying that's your daughter."

Somewhat reassured, Natalie resumed her breathing. "I don't think she'd ever do something like that, but I do know that college has brought a lot of new pressure to her. And I just hate to see her do something stupid. On one hand, I need to let her go and test her wings. Find out about life. I'm so ready to be done and free of the worries. On the other hand, I know I'll always worry about her even when she's married and a mother herself. It's just a parenting thing."

He let her talk, smiled while she spoke. She suddenly let up, looked at him. "I'm sorry. I put my foot in my mouth again. I didn't mean to sound like you have no experience with parenting. I know how involved you are with Parker."

"I didn't take it the wrong way." Then, to alleviate her concern, he nodded in appreciation over the taste of the food. "This is really good."

"Thanks."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't see you as a cook."

She frowned, then smiled. "I do have to eat, you know."

"I know. But I didn't think you'd cook something so elaborate. I sort of figured since you had to be creative at work, you wouldn't be as creative in other areas."

"But maybe since I am creative at work, I'm creative in a lot of other ways."

The implication of what she said caught his attention. He didn't think she meant it in the way he was interpreting it, and when he gazed at her, she looked at him, then away. She understood what she'd said, maybe didn't even regret it.

He took it that she liked to be creative in bed.

That worked for him. He would try anything and he wanted to try a lot with her.

Sleeping together wasn't something he wanted to plan or think out. He just wanted to make sure she knew what she was doing, what she was offering.

Dinner was eaten leisurely and the bottle of wine finished. She got up to clear the table and he rose to help her.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"Well…okay."

"I take it your ex-husband didn't help."

"No. Not all the time."

"What did he do for a living?"

"Micron. He developed software."

"Are you on good terms with him?" Tony brought the plates to the sink and Natalie rinsed them before loading the dishwasher.

"Better. Actually, we were never on bad terms. We just didn't like each other." She dropped forks into the silverware tray, then looked at him. "I've invited him and his girlfriend to Easter dinner. It should be interesting. If I show up on your doorstep, have a shot of tequila waiting for me. I might need it."

Tony laughed. "How come you invited him?"

"Initially—harmony for my daughter's sake. I have no quibble with Greg. If he's happy, then I'm happy for him." Letting out an exhale, Natalie sighed. "Besides, he was planning on picking Cassie up at the airport. It would be awkward now if I uninvited him and his girlfriend just because our daughter canceled. And when I told him Cassie wasn't coming, he did his usual two-minute tirade, then he asked me what time he should be here for dinner. I was trapped. What are your Easter plans?" she asked, wiping the counter.

"I'm working a half shift for someone. They have family coming in that morning and they're eating at noon, so I'll stay at the station until he comes in."

"Why doesn't he take the whole day off?"

"Needs the money, I guess."

"That's what's wrong with this country—firemen, policemen and teachers don't make enough money," she stated, swinging the dishwasher door up and into place. Then she glanced at him. "I mean, I'm not saying that you don't earn a decent wage…I…uh, oops. That didn't sound right."

Tony went toward her, pulled her into his arms and looked into her eyes. "I know what you meant and I didn't take it as anything negative." He dropped his mouth to hers, gave her a soft kiss. "You worry too much about saying the right things."

"Not all of the time," she replied, her breath teasing his lips. Their foreheads touched and he savored the feel of her shirt fabric. He didn't know what it was, but it was soft; it felt really sexy.

"You look nice," he uttered next to her mouth.

"Thanks. So do you. You always do."

"I could argue that but I won't."

"Seriously, I'll bet you look just as great with soot on your face and your hair damp with sweat."

He simply smiled, brought his mouth back over hers and kissed her long and leisurely. She tasted like wine, sweet and sugary. Her arms rose around his neck, pulling him close. He let himself go, surrendered to the kiss and let her take it over.

She opened her lips and took him in the direction she wanted to go as she nibbled on his lower lip. Her tongue swept over the seam of his mouth and his lips parted. She entered him, their tongues meeting and tasting. His body tightened, he reacted and grew hard. He wanted her, but once he had her, there would be no going back. For him, this was something different. It wouldn't be casual and she had to know that.

He lifted his head, gazed into her eyes. Her face was flushed with a sexual heat that colored her cheeks. She breathed in short little gasps, a strand of hair brushing her eyebrow. He touched her, swept the hair back and then traced the outline of her ear.

She seemed to hold her breath, tense and waiting.

Expectation filled her, a flicker of indecision in her green eyes. She was deciding—was it worth going ahead and being a little reckless, maybe even dangerous? Did she really want this?

He read her like yesterday's news.

He was having the same thoughts, the same pattern of looking ahead and wondering how this would change things between them. Anticipation. Apprehension.

"I don't know how to do this," she murmured. "I don't know how to just be a gender-appropriate friend. I thought I wanted you just as my friend, but…"

"We're more than friends."

"Not yet. We aren't lovers yet."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, I told you."

"But you're having doubts?"

"No. That's the problem. I'm not really doubting anything, but I am questioning my sanity."

"Why's that?"

"Because I've never had sex without being in love— or thinking I was in love."

"I understand." He traced the side of her neck, grazed his fingertip over the pulse point at her throat.

She sucked in a breath. "I thought I was so in love . in my one and only relationship since my divorce—you know that feeling when you crave someone?"

"No…1 don't." Tony swallowed, tried to explain. "I loved my wife, but I didn't have those feelings for her. I thought I did, but I didn't."

"How sad."

"Yeah, it was."

She reached out, touched his cheek. He'd shaved before he'd come over, his jawline and face smooth. Blinking several times, her eyes filled with a deep and curious longing. "Do you think you can ever crave love? Feel it strongly in your heart, mind and soul?" As soon as she asked, her hand withdrew and she shook her head, fingers touching her lips as if to remove the words. "I shouldn't have asked that. It's irrelevant."

"Why's it irrelevant?"

"Because we aren't going to fall in love, me with you nor you with me…so it doesn't matter. I don't know why I even asked."

"Yes, you do."

He waited for her to give him her reason; he knew she had one.

Natalie's lips pressed together, their fullness and pink color catching his attention and distracting. He would have kissed her if she hadn't been forming words of explanation.

"Some men think they want to be in love, but they don't. Not really. It's the chase, the pursuit that interests them. When they win a woman over by doing everything right, when it comes time to make a commitment, love leaves the picture."

"I hear bitterness."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be, it's just that I'm a lot more cautious these days."

"Caution is good. Just know your limits."

That caused Natalie to roll her eyes, step out of his arms and brace her hands on each side of the sink. She lowered her head, stood in silent thoughtfulness, then came back to him.

Before he could react, she had both hands on the back of his head and was kissing him soundly on the mouth.

He could feel her body trembling as she spoke. "I'm done thinking. Come upstairs with me."

Natalie wasn't sure if Tony would follow her—she just began walking and hoped he would. With each riser she climbed coming closer to her bedroom, her heart jerked into a more frantic pace.

What was she doing?

Ha! She knew damn well what she was doing. She'd known since being in the dressing room of Victoria's Secret trying on underwear and lingerie.

Once on the landing, she walked into her bedroom. She'd placed candles on the bedside tables, put flowers on the bureau and on the side of the bathtub. The room was perfumed with waxy fragrances. Fresh sheets were on the bed, the pillows plumped. The lighting was low—she'd left the dimmer on a low setting. In every way, she had planned the last detail of her…seduction.

Seduction.

What a name to call this. She shouldn't have put so much thought into it… Should have just—just what? Just not done anything and gone on as if Tony didn't matter, as if she didn't need him or this.

She felt him stand behind her, his hands holding on to her shoulders and bringing her back to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"It looks nice in here. Different."

Then she remembered he'd seen it when she'd had her surgery. The chaos and clutter of the room, the rumpled bed, her in it after she'd gotten sick. She vividly remembered the cup of soup he'd brought her and set on the night table, relived how he'd sat backward on a chair and talked to her. Such a different time, a different mood. This now felt different, strange, as if she were disconnected from that past experience. As if it hadn't been her. As if she were a different woman now.

She couldn't quite pinpoint it, but suddenly she questioned if she'd done the right thing. The timing…the planning.

She was a planner; felt better knowing what was to come. But did a woman really plan out a sex bed? Could it really work?

Maybe Tony was thinking she was nuts.

She turned in his arms, needing to rest her cheek on his chest. He cupped the back of her head, held her close and just kept her near him. She heard the beats of his heart, the strength within his body pulsating through his chest. He was indeed strong, battle-hard from his job.

Tony Cruz was like no other man she'd ever met.

If only she could be the kind of woman he needed and wanted.

If only…

For some stupid reason, she got a tear in her eye, blinked it away and held on to a curse beneath her breath. Funny how she felt things for him she'd never felt for a man before. Funny how their differences put a wedge between them that she could see no way to build a bridge across. And yet it was those very differences that attracted her to him.

"Do you want to go back downstairs?" she asked.

"No."

She hadn't expected that answer. "What do you want to do?" She held her breath.

"Lie down."

"Lie down?"