Running from Love: A Story for Runners and Lovers (11 page)

The steak was delicious, although she couldn’t eat it all. Instead, she helped herself to some of Jude’s sautéed mushrooms—yet another absolute no-no when she’d dated Will. “Never eat off someone else’s plate in public” was one of his edicts. For the first time she admitted to herself that she hadn’t totally relaxed around her ex-boyfriend. She’d been too busy picking up new bits and pieces of information about the very different world he’d come from. It had been exciting but exhausting.

When it came time for dessert, Farrah ordered without waiting to see if Jude would follow. As a runner, she went boldly where dieters feared to tread. She was pleased to see Jude also order dessert. Too soon, the meal was over, and Jude rose to pull out her chair.

“Don’t we need to get the bill?” she asked.

“It’s done,” he told her.

He must have paid it when she’d gone to the ladies’ room between dinner and dessert. Again the sensation of being taken care of washed over her, freeing her femininity to float in the summer evening.

Out on the sidewalk, Farrah waited in the shadows by the door as Jude fished for the ticket for the parking valet. She saw that the attendant was the same one she had bumped into two nights earlier. Would he recognize her? Laughing silently, she tasted traces of the hazelnut chocolate mousse she’d chosen for dessert. She’d let Jude have a bite, but she’d devoured the rest. Had the valet been right when he’d said that men win for the moment, but women win in the end? What end had he meant? The end of the evening, the end of singledom, or the end of a life? She shivered in the night breeze, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Cold?” Jude turned to her, his hand shooting out from his pocket, moving toward the small of her back.

At that moment, the car pulled up to the curb. The valet hopped out as Jude opened the passenger door for Farrah. Over the roof of the car, she caught the valet’s eye. His look seemed to say “remember what I told you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, a Cheshire cat smile on her lips then lowered herself into the seat.

“Where are we headed?” Jude asked, smoothly pulling away from the curb.

She sank back into the comfortable velveteen seat, noting a blue dolphin pendant draped over the rear view mirror. Her window mysteriously went down, causing her to look to the left until she saw Jude’s left hand on the controls on his door.

“Take a right at the corner,” she directed him.

He drove wordlessly, turning right at the traffic light, then up the hill into Riverdale. The streets were quiet. Aside from its large Irish-American population, Riverdale had a large Orthodox Jewish one, who celebrated Sabbath evenings at home.

“Turn left up ahead.”

“Here?” He guided his car smoothly down her street. As usual, both sides were packed with cars.

“Yes. It’s the next building on the right.”

“The large one?”

“Yes.”

He drove into the semi-circular driveway, peering up at her massive seventeen-story apartment building.

“What’s your view like?” he asked.

“I can see the Hudson from my balcony.”

“That’s terrific. How close is it to here?” He shifted the car into park, directly in front of the no parking sign at the entrance.

“It’s just on the other side of the building.” She had to give him points for not asking to come up to see the view. She wanted to show it to him, but not from the inside of her apartment. Not yet, at least. “Do you want to drive around back? We can see the river from there.”

“Great.” He shifted again and moved the car out of the driveway, following her directions down a slope that led behind the building. At the bottom was a large parking area next to the river. Jude guided the car into a spot directly at its edge, then cut the engine.

Farrah could hear the water quietly lapping against the rocks below. The Hudson River was well-behaved this far north of its mouth, which emptied into New York Harbor and the Atlantic Ocean. She breathed deeply, inhaling the balmy late summer air. Something more was there—a dry, crisp hint of the season’s imminent change. Expectancy wafted over her like an autumn breeze.

Jude moved his arm until it came to rest over the back of her seat. His fingers dangled close to her right shoulder. Was she imagining things or could she feel them on her skin?

She shifted her weight, leaning against the door so she could look at Jude’s profile. It was strongly defined, with a long, straight nose, a well-shaped mouth, and a jaw that fell just short of jutting out. The outline of his Adam’s Apple was evident in his wide neck. She watched his fingers play with the fabric on the side of her headrest. Something told her they wanted to play in her hair.

“It’s not Greenwich, is it?’ she asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s better,” he said, leaning toward her.

“Why’s that?”

“The company’s better here.”

“Is that so?” she teased.

Ever so slowly, his face moved closer to hers. Then she felt the fingers of his right hand on her hair. They lightly stroked, separating strands between them, until they found her neck.

She froze. She wasn’t ready to let him know how sensitive her neck was. But she couldn’t pull away, now that his fingers had found her skin.

“Yes-s-s-.” His answer was a whisper, the s sibilant. “It is so.”

She said nothing, sinking back into the strong fingers now circling around the back of her neck, under her hair. Slowly, she lifted her chin, her head dropping back into the cup of his hand.

“Mmm.”

His face came closer, his eyes on her mouth.

Ever so slowly, she shook her head. The motion of moving it side to side felt good against his large hand. But she needed to signal no. Would he understand? Even she didn’t.

He mimicked the motion of her head with his chin down, eyebrows shooting up.

“No?”

“No,” she murmured.

“No or not yet?” he asked in a voice so low, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly.

He was brave. She could imagine how hard it might be for a man to hear no, face to face like this.

“Not yet,” she mouthed inaudibly. Saturday needed to be dealt with. Although why she felt the need to be faithful to the memory of what she’d once had with a man who was now married was beyond the scope of logic. She was her own worst enemy.

Jude’s mouth slowly formed into a smile, his eyes only inches from hers.

“Let me know when.”

He’d understood.

She nodded, pleased with his restraint. It piqued her interest more to know he could hold back. He was a man, not a boy.

His thumb and fingers moved in a V up the nape of her neck, massaging the back of her head.

“Ahhh.” She wasn’t doing a good job of matching words with actions. All she could do was sink back into the strong, muscular frame of his right hand.

She watched as he took his other hand off the steering wheel then moved it to the hard column of her throat. With one finger, he traced a line up and down from the tip of her chin to the soft indent between her collarbones.

Giving herself over to sensation, she closed her eyes.

A long moment passed. The night sky, the water slapping against the rocks, and the slow travel of muscular fingers on skin all melded into one. He remained respectful of her boundaries, not trying to kiss her. She knew he wanted her. The time that elapsed while he held off gave her space in which to contemplate the idea of kissing him back. It was enjoyable to float there. He’d put her in the driver’s seat. She was a slow, cautious driver. But her thoughts were beginning to close in on a destination.

Finally, she opened her eyes. He was looking at her, his eyes half-shut like a big, sleepy cat. The line of his arm reaching toward her was thick and rippled with definition. This wasn’t polished, refined Will. This was Jude. What was she going to do about it?

Raising her right hand, she extended her index finger. Then she traced an unhurried path from the top of his shoulder down the tricep, circling around it and continuing on to the bicep, tracing rings there, too.

As she touched him, she saw his mouth break into a smile, his teeth gleaming in the dark. He was a wolf, but a wolf with manners. She guessed he would wait for her signal before proceeding further.

“Umm,” he said.

Continuing her path down his arm, she took his hand with her left one and rotated his forearm so the underside of it was up, the skin there whiter and hairless. Switching from her index finger to her ring finger, she brushed lightly from the crook of his forearm down to the wrist and up again.

He shivered.

She wasn’t used to feeling this kind of power. Will had been rushed, when he wasn’t distracted. Jude was neither. It was a revelation for her, moving in slow motion time and space. The crux of her pleasure lay in Jude’s ability to let her decide the tempo. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt directing what was unfolding between them.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering where the words had come from. She certainly hadn’t thought of them.

“More than okay,” he breathed back. “And you?”

“I’m very fine,” she answered truthfully.

“You’re very fine indeed,” he answered, his eyes moving once again to her mouth.

“Not yet,” she barely whispered. Something was holding her back. She would deal with it the next day.

“As you like.” He nodded.

“I do like.”

“So do I.” His fingers worked their way down to her shoulder. She wasn’t ready for them to move further south. Flexing her shoulder, she pressed the side of her face against his hand. Quickly, he cupped it.

Farrah gazed at the wide night sky, her head cradled by Jude like Hera in Zeus’s arms. After an eternity, she pulled away, gently taking his hand and putting it on the steering wheel. It stayed there quietly tapping, like the Hudson River nearby—well behaved, but insistently lapping at the shore.

“Time to drop me off at the door,” she said, summoning the self-will she sometimes wished she didn’t possess. She wanted to keep exploring, but she needed to close the door once and for all on the past, before anything more happened.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” she said, straightening herself in her seat and putting the window halfway up. She ran her hand through her hair, shaking it out. Why was it that her own fingers on her scalp had no power to thrill her the way his had? There was a lesson there. People needed each other.

He slowly drove up the hill, turning left into the circular driveway at the entrance to her building. He stopped in front of her door, turning to her, a question on his face. Once again, she felt empowered by his grace in handing the ball to her. She would decide where to toss it next.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for being so beautiful.” He made no move toward her, but his eyes swept her face.

She blushed.

“Thank you for not being in a rush.” She surprised herself with her frankness.

“Thank you for thinking I’m not.”

She laughed, warmth creeping up her throat and neck from somewhere deep in her belly. He was funny. And sexy.

“Good night,” she said.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” He reached for her across the gear shift.

Farrah grabbed both his upper arms. She needed to take charge of whatever happened next. The incredible tautness of his muscles made her feel light as a feather. Without his arms anchoring her to earth, she might float away.

His face came closer, then his mouth found hers. His lips were warm and firm, pressed against hers. She let him kiss her, but didn’t open her mouth. His scent was earthy and zesty. If it had been a color, it would have been all greens and browns. She needed to get out of the car, away from him fast, before she lost herself in those muscular arms.

“Good night,” she said, pushing him gently away. Quickly, she grabbed her purse and got out. A car had pulled up behind them, the driver waiting patiently for them to move. As she passed Jude’s door, he stuck his head out the window. The question remained on his face.

Impulsively, she reached out to trace the strong slope of his cheekbone. With the car door between them acting as bodyguard, she leaned toward him slightly and whispered, “Not yet.”

His face broke into a smile as he nodded his head.

“Understood, Captain.”

“Bye,” she said one last time, giving him the smallest of playful slaps. Turning quickly, she headed into the building, sailing past the doorman. It was only at the elevator banks that she realized what she’d just done. How would he take her slap? If the left elevator arrived first he’d liked it. If the right opened first, he hadn’t. Laughing to herself, she watched as the left elevator door opened. It had been a fun evening. And more. She’d felt free as a bird—light, yet powerful. Was it because of the way Jude made her feel or the fact that she hadn’t given a single thought over the past hour to her ex-boyfriend? Whichever it was, the winds they were a-changing.

F
IVE

“B
lah, blah, blah,” the sound of Ginny Slade’s voice droned on, her clipped, patrician tone hypnotizing Jude’s eardrums into temporary deafness. All he heard was, “I don’t need anyone, everything is under control, I have it covered.” That wasn’t such a bad thing, considering he didn’t want Ginny Slade to need him. But he wanted someone to. Why was there was such a fine line to walk between neediness and insufferable self-composure? Looking around the dinner table, he tried to guess which of its occupants might be interesting to talk to. It was a tough call.

The woman seated to his left listened closely to Ginny’s story, laughing at short intervals. She had on a navy blue dress with a deep V-shaped neckline that hinted at subterranean treasures. Jude wasn’t a fan of deep tans like the one this woman had. He thought of Farrah’s skin, naturally golden without needing to spend hours on a tennis court, boat or beach. He still hadn’t figured out what Farrah’s lineage might be, but he knew it wasn’t Connecticut Gold Coast Mayflower stock. What a relief. How did you make conversation with any of these characters? They all acted as if they didn’t need anything.