Now & Forever 3 - Blind love (13 page)

Chapter Eight

Both Peter and Sam had dates for the classical music concert
being held in the university’s amphitheater on Saturday night. They both took
their time getting ready, arguing about sharing the bathroom and critiquing
each other’s choice of tie.

Pat picked up Sam at six sharp for dinner first. She looked
lovely in a turquoise silk dress and her tallest heels, which still kept her
seven inches shorter than Sam. He presented her with a white gardenia corsage
and she gave him a quick kiss, with Peter watching.

“Hey, Dad, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Peter snickered.

His father growled at him.

At eight o’clock, Peter strolled over to Lara’s house. When
she opened the door he was taken aback. She was a vision in a dark pink scoop-necked
lightweight sweater that showed off her cleavage and a snug black pencil skirt.
She also had on high heels and an amethyst pendant and matching earrings. Her
hair was shiny and worn loose, draping around her shoulders. Peter, who’d never
seen her in anything more formal than a leotard or shorts and T-shirt, was
impressed.

“Wow…you look…terrific.”

“Thank you. Could you help me with my jacket, please?”

He placed the jacket over her shoulders and her hand on his
arm so he could guide her to the car.

When they got to their seats in Halsey Amphitheater, the
orchestra was already tuning up. Peter read the program to her. She smiled when
he mentioned the
Liebesträume
.

When the lights went down, he took her hand and folded it
through his arm. The first pieces played were excerpts from the ballet
Giselle
. He felt Lara’s fingers spread
out, her hand relax. Oddly, being close to her and smelling the subtle sweet
scent of her perfume, reminding him of lilies of the valley was satisfying for
Peter. Feeling her closeness, sharing the music with her, a sense of happiness
washed over him. Peter never knew a woman, except Bianca, who appreciated
classical music as fully as he did…until Lara. He saw her close her eyes and
wondered what she was imagining.
Had she
ever danced to this? Would she ever dance again?

He noticed her foot moving slightly with the rhythm and he
smiled.
Dancers can’t sit still.
He
chuckled to himself when his fingers moved during the playing of the
Liebesträume
.
Pianists can’t sit still either.
He squeezed her hand. She smiled
at him and rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair.

Peter let his mind drift with the music. He ran his thumb
over the back of her small hand. He imagined himself playing
Giselle
and watching her dance in full
ballerina costume.

After the concert, Peter drove them to The Creamery for ice
cream.

“What flavor?” Peter asked, reaching into his back pocket for
his wallet.

“Butter pecan? Do they have that?”

“They do.”

Peter placed their order then guided Lara to a table. He
picked up their ice cream cones and carried them back.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Lara chewed her lower lip.

“You’ll be fine. Eating an ice cream cone is like riding a
bike. It comes back to you.”

But it didn’t come back to Lara. First she smooshed her nose
into the cone. Then she got ice cream on her fingers because she had to touch
the cone to keep from burying her face in it. Some children at a nearby table giggled
and Lara froze.

“You take it.” She thrust the cone at him, feeling the table
for a napkin.

Peter glared at the twelve-year-olds at the next table then
gently pushed her hand with the cone in it back towards her.

“Don’t let a bunch of stupid children upset you. Come on.”

Peter wrapped his fingers around her hand and slowly brought
the ice cream up to her lips. She stuck out her tongue and he moved the ice
cream up against it. Her pretty pink tongue licked the cone and he wanted to
lean in and kiss her…and more. When she had it under control, he let go and sat
back. His mind was racing and his temperature was rising.

“Funny, I haven’t forgotten that butter pecan is my favorite
flavor.”

She licked the cone with enthusiasm and Peter watched every
stroke while he devoured his chocolate chip.

When they returned, Peter noticed Pat’s car parked out front.
He pulled the car into the driveway then steered Lara into the shadows between
their houses. He leaned against the house and eased her into his arms. She rested
her face against his chest while he stroked her hair. He tilted her chin up
with his fingers, then his mouth closed down on hers for a gentle kiss. The
softness of her lips, the sweetness of her taste mingled with the faint scent
of lilies of the valley encouraged him to make the kiss a more passionate,
demanding one. Lara relaxed against him. He kissed her again, his tongue
teasing, then buried his face in her neck while the fingertips of one hand
toyed with the hem of her sweater and the other traced the neckline, lightly
grazing the tops of her breasts.

Lara shivered against him. Peter slid his hand down slowly
and closed his fingers over her breast. He squeezed it gently and she moaned,
closing her eyes. Touching her flesh ignited a fire in him, burning, aching for
her. Lara offered no resistance but he knew his actions violated their
agreement. Abruptly, he stopped touching her and moved her an arms-length away.

“It’s time to take you home,” he said, his voice thick with
desire.

Lara took his hand and put his palm on her cheek. Then she
kissed it.

“I don’t want to…go in,” she whispered, pulling him to her
for a long, deep kiss.

“I promised…” he whispered into her mouth, as he put his
hands on her shoulders and firmly moved her back.

“I know but…well—” she began.

“Have to keep my word.” Peter stepped back from her.

She sighed.

He walked her to her door, kissed her goodnight and left,
taking a deep breath.

* * * *

Lara and Peter spent their afternoons together. She danced in
the Caldwells’ living room while he practiced piano.

“Let me take you to lunch on Saturday for our second date.”

Lara sat cross-legged on the floor, mopping the sweat off her
face with a small towel.

“How about a picnic? In a quiet place where people won’t
laugh and stare at me.”

“You’re on. I’ll get food.”

“I’ll bring music,” she said.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” She draped the towel around her neck.

“Listen,” he said as he played a piece from
Giselle
they had heard at the concert.

Lara’s head jerked up as she recognized the piece. After the
first few bars, she got up and did a few moves from the dances she had seen.
Her movements were hesitant at first as she struggled to remember the
choreography, then it came back to her and she glided around the room. When he
finished the piece, she clapped and made her way to the piano.

“You learned that piece for me?” She stood behind him and
slid her hands down his chest.

He kissed her palm.

“You are a prince,” she whispered in his ear.

“And you are my princess…” he whispered back.

* * * *

Saturday came quickly. Peter picked up the picnic lunch at
the deli before he called for Lara.

“Any suggestions on a secluded spot, Dad?”

“A little last minute…oh, wait. I’ve got just the place. Hold
on.” Sam went to the desk and took out a small pad of paper.

“Not too far away, okay? I don’t want to get lost.”

“Simple directions…you might see a pair of cardinals there,
Pete. Definitely black-capped chickadees and some goldfinches maybe even a
downy woodpecker.” Sam finished scribbling then tore the piece of paper from
the pad and handed it to Peter.

He nodded to his father then picked up the bag of food.

“No seduction, right?” Sam warned.

“A deal’s a deal.”

His father smiled and patted his son on the shoulder.

“Have a good time.”

“I could have a better time if…”

“Deal’s a deal.”

“Bye, Dad.”

Lara was waiting outside her uncle’s house with a small CD
player and a blanket. She wore a full cotton print skirt in pink and a low-cut
matching tank top. The drive was a pretty one, through a stretch of state
forest. The sun beaming down on the trees highlighted the varying shades of
green. Peter felt a twinge when he remembered Lara couldn’t see any of it.

“I love the smells here. The air is so fresh. Where are we?”

“Passing through Major State Park. It’s beautiful.”

After they got through setting up, Peter unpacked the basket.
Cold fried chicken, potato salad, coleslaw and blueberry turnovers were
accompanied by blue and green striped paper plates and white plastic utensils. Between
bites of chicken, Peter did his imitation bird calls he learned from his dad.
Lara heard the birds respond. She shared stories about her ballet friends.

“Tell me about your life in the city.” He lounged back on one
elbow on the blanket, chewing on a chicken leg.

“After I left the ballet…I hung out with a…a…fast crowd. Some
of my friends did cocaine and stuff. I never did drugs. A dancer is an athlete.
Respect for your body, you know?”

Peter sat silently, his gaze sweeping over Lara’s form.
I have a lot of respect for your body.

“You there?” she asked nervously.

“I’m listening. Cocaine and fast friends. Go on.”

“At night we went to clubs…drank, danced till dawn. It was
one big party.” She chewed.

“Party girl?”

“Sort of…Not anymore.” She turned away from Peter.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, taking her arm.

Lara turned around, groping for her plate. Peter handed it to
her and she quietly finished her potato salad.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked her.

“I don’t remember. Maybe.”

“Did you have many men waiting for you at the stage door?”

“Some.” Lara picked up a chicken breast and took a big bite.

“Did you go out with a lot of them?” he asked.

“A few. We went out a lot in groups. I had a few boyfriends…”

“Anything serious?” he asked, and finished the last of the
chicken leg.

“Not that I can remember.”

“Did you sleep with a lot of guys?” He sat up straight and
threw the chicken bone in the bag designated for garbage.

“Peter!”

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Have you slept with a lot of women?” she countered, easing
back on her elbows.

“I asked you first,” he parried.

“Not a lot. I don’t think…I’m not a virgin, if that’s what
you’re getting at,” she said, changing position, raising herself up on one
elbow.

“I didn’t think you were. I’ve slept with a lot of women. I
admit it.”

Lara shifted her position again, moving away from the sound
of his voice.

“At least I’m honest. You asked. Those days are over. Now I
want only one woman…you,” he said, inching closer to her.

“But what about tomorrow?”

“Today, tomorrow…only you,” he said, moving even closer. “You
look beautiful. Always wear pink…”

Lara lay back again and Peter stretched out next to her. She
turned to talk to him, but he was too close and their lips, only a breath away,
touched. Peter put his fingers in her hair, cupped her head and drew her closer
to him for a kiss. She returned his affection, parting her lips. The kiss was
slow and sweet. Then he kissed her with more passion.

The kissing heated up. Lara was on her back with Peter
hovering over her. He moved his lips down to her neck and his hand traveled
down while a finger rimmed her tank top, teasing the tops of her breasts. Her
breath came quicker.

Peter slid his hand down to capture her breast and she
sighed. He massaged it gently, finding the peak, caressing it through the flimsy
material of her top and bra.

His lips followed, kissing her neck as his hand eased down
the straps and exposed her breast to his lips and hand. Lara sucked in her
breath as she felt the breeze caress her bare skin, followed by gentle pressure
from Peter’s persuasive mouth. Lara touched his rough face then began to
unbutton his shirt. A soft moan escaped from her throat. Her soft touch stoked
his fire. His hand squeezed her flesh as he licked and sucked her nipple.
Lara’s encouragement of his lovemaking fueled his desire. The longer she let
him make love to her, the more his control slipped.

Suddenly, Peter sat up and cursed under his breath.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?”

“I can’t date you,” he said, standing up.

“Why not? What’s wrong with me?” Lara said, tears quickly
forming in her eyes as she replaced her clothing.

“Nothing. Not a damn thing. You’re perfect. It’s me. I want
to make love to you; I can’t date you platonically. I thought I could, but I
can’t. I want you too much. I can’t control myself.”

“I like…you…touching me,” she admitted, color suffusing her
cheeks.

“A deal’s a deal. Home.”

Lara helped him pack up. She turned her face away from him,
blinking rapidly so he wouldn’t see her tears and walked quietly to the car.
When they got home, Peter took Lara to her door. He kissed her goodbye
passionately and retreated to his house. He sat down at the piano and played
for two hours.

When Sam returned with Pat, Peter was packing up his music.

“I thought you were on a picnic,” Sam asked.

“Patience is a virtue I don’t have, Dad.” Peter said, walking
into the bedroom and shutting the door.

* * * *