Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (10 page)

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Authors: C.J. Wells

Tags: #The Perfect Plans Series #2

BOOK: Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2)
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Oh dear God.

“I’M SORRY, I’VE been going on and on,” Alex pulls his napkin from his lap, wiping the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t be. I love hearing stories about your childhood and your family. Your parents sound like such well-rounded, wonderful people. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I add with a smile, taking a sip of my wine.

“They are great. I’m blessed to have them, but every family has their moments,” he shrugs, grinning.

“Ummm, I think mine has more than it’s fair share.
We’re all a little crazy
,” I add dramatically on a whisper.

Laughing, he shakes his head, looking into my eyes with a sweet smile. “Call it what you will, it’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Uncontrollably, my eyes widen at his use of the word and I immediately note the shift of his brow and cock of his head at my reaction. “You know what
I
would love?” I quickly aim for a detour of distraction. “A walk on the beach. It’s so beautiful and quiet out here,” I look up and down the strip of isolated sand before looking back to him. “The staff really do leave the guests in peace, don’t they?”

“Yes, they do. And since we’re the only guests here,” he stands, taking my hand to pull me up against him, “…a private stroll by the water sounds very inviting.”

“You want me naked and wet, don’t you?” The thought elicits an eruption through my core.

“Oh, absolutely,” he simpers. “But I’m still delivering the romance portion.” He cups my jaw to hold my gaze, his thumb brushing along my lip. “Let’s talk a little more,” he adds, kissing me softly before bending down to remove my sandals, a soft hold of my calves through the motions. Laying them to the side, he looks up at me, his eyes filled with longing as his hands run up the span of my legs. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” His touch glides up with my short sundress as he stands. “You really are beautiful, Aby,” he whispers, bending to kiss my neck.

Closing my eyes, I bite my lip against the shrill of ecstasy coursing through me. His words are my euphoria. They hypnotize me, leave me breathless. Speechless.

“Come,” he offers me his hand, looking into my eyes, flashing that amazing combination smile - the sweet, though sinfully sexy, knowing one that drives me wild. “Let’s go for that stroll.” Kicking off his sandals, he leads me toward the water’s edge.

The ocean breeze blends with the warmth of the evening as we walk hand in hand in silence, just out of reach of the slow, soft waves. We’ve been here less than a day, and it feels like a peaceful forever. A world away from all of our troubles. All of my fears. The quiet moment is perfect. Safe.

“It’s all about perception, you know,” he says out of nowhere, and I look to him in confusion - clearly he’s not riding the thoughtless wave with me. “The issues you have with your family. Or, rather, I should say, your
Mum
,” he continues, his eyebrow doing its sexy shift.

“Nail on the head,” I tap my nose at his accurate summation of my issues with my mother. “Do go on, Dr. Tate. I welcome your psychoanalysis with an open mind,” I tease with a smile, before looking ahead. I’m not sure why he’s thinking about this right now, but I’m intrigued as to what he has to say.

“Perception is everything. In my world,” he pauses, pulling my gaze before continuing. “
That
world we agree can be difficult,” he purses his lips and I laugh. “My every word, every step is perceived by everyone, rightfully or wrongfully. It’s particularly eye opening to be on the constant receiving end of those presumptions and assumptions. However, the positive side is that it reminds me to try to look past what appears on the surface. I try to see what is
real
beneath, before allowing my own perception to come into play. We can never predict the reactions of others to our own actions, Aby. Anymore than they can truly perceive them in light of our honest intent.”

“Wow. That’s deep.” I try to hide my smile. He’s being sincere, and I feel bad for making a joke.

“I’m just suggesting that perhaps you should try that with your Mum.” He offers a closed lip smile with a small shrug, before his lips curl into a playful grin.

He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met. His boyish charm is ridiculous.

“So, essentially,” I smile at him genially in return, “…you’re suggesting I’m projecting my own self doubts onto the actions of my well-meaning mother.”

“Essentially, yes.” He squeezes my hand, and I bump into him playfully as we walk. “Your Mum adores you and your sister equally, Aby. I can see that. Why can’t you?”

“I know she does,” I sigh. “And I know you’re right. I do look for things in everything she does, and take them the wrong way. But,” I put my finger up with a laugh, “…she still drives me crazy regardless.”

“Because she loves you, worries about you, and wants the best for her daughter. I’m sure Anna would agree with everything you’re feeling, Aby. I do see how my Mum treats her daughter differently than she does her son.”

“Ahhh, the proverbial son,” I tease and he laughs, pursing his lips.

“I wouldn’t say I’m
spoiled
. My father would never allow his son to ride the easy road. That being said, yes, Mum does dote on me,” he flashes that boyish smile that pulls at my heartstrings. “So have you ever spoken to Beth about how you feel? Perhaps she feels the same way, and you’re simply unaware.”

“I seriously doubt that,” I mutter, suddenly realizing I’m doing it again. Perception…Assumptions and presumptions. Yeah, it’s definitely a bad habit. “Communication is not exactly my family’s strong suit,” I add, grimacing at my part in the lack there of.

“So, I’m
assuming
,” he nudges me teasingly, “…you haven’t spoken to your Mum about it before either.”

“Now that, Dr. Tate, is a very good assumption. See, they’re not all bad,” I laugh. “Mom would never be open to such a conversation. She’d take it completely offside as a negative attack and associate the entire ordeal as me blaming her, instead of trying to tell her how I fell. Translation,
I’m
assuming that
she
will assume wrongly. And I’m probably right.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he squeezes my hand again, and I turn to take in his mocking smile.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” I laugh.

We fall back into peaceful silence, our gait having moved into the oceans waves. This feels right. Being open with Alex. Sharing my demons and talking through them. I’m a work in progress. We’re a work in progress. And it feels wonderful. He feels wonderful.

“Thank you,” I look towards him, captivated, grateful, for everything he is to me. “For the talk and the advice. For all of this,” I span the air around us. “For just being you,” I look into his eyes as we walk, the warm water rolling in over my sinking steps in the soft gooey sand.

“You’re welcome,” he smiles bashfully. His humility melts my heart. “I would like to talk about what happened earlier as well,” he adds, his eyes on the stretch of beach ahead.

“I’m open to talk about anything, but you’ll have to be a little more specific. Which part would you like to discuss? The one where you swept me off my feet, or the one where you swept me off my feet?”

“Well,
specifically
,” he glances towards me, “…the part when you bugged out a little when I mentioned the love word.”

“I didn’t
bug out
.” I scrunch my nose in mock defiance. “You’re really picking up the North American slang, aren’t you? Maybe I’m a bad influence.”

“Aby, I’m serious.”

“Alex,” I stop abruptly, turning to face him. “I love you,” I reach up to touch his cheek. “I can say that because I’m ready to. It doesn’t mean I expect you to reciprocate something
you’re
not ready to.” My hand slides down along his chest; it’s a purposeful motion to avert my gaze. I’m not lying to him, but I would be lying to myself if I ignored the pang in my heart that longs to hear him say those three words. “Love comes with trust for you,” I bravely smile up at him. “And despite that I’ve tested that lately, I do know how you feel about me.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I do. And until you’re ready to tell me,” I nip at my lip seductively, desire oozing from my gaze, “…just show me.”

His eyes burn sapphire in the moonlight, his mouth parted on a husky breath as he cups my face to take me in a fierce kiss.

Trembles of need burst through every nerve as his tongue claims me, his hands devouring their way down my neck and spine. I reach for him, moaning as he grabs my waist, squeezing me tight against him. Every touch, every brush of his lips and tongue speak more than any words possibly could. I feel his need for me, his pull to me, as strongly as the air I breathe.

Reaching for the hem of my dress, he tears it up and over my raised arms, tossing it to the side before I witness his surprise. He devours my nudity, looking into my eyes with carnal hunger - a hunger that tells me we wouldn’t have made it this far into the evening if he had known what was missing beneath my pretty little sundress.

Grabbing my nape, he pulls me in for another assault of the senses at the realm of his perfect lips and tongue, my hands feverishly tugging at the closure of his shorts.

I moan from the loss of his kiss as he reaches to pull off his shirt, bending to discard his bottoms to the sand. The sight of his erection, bobbing eagerly against his sculpted abs is the end of me. Pouncing, I wrap my arms around his neck, reclaiming his lips as he cups my ass to lift me, my legs securing around his waist as he carries me out into the warm ocean waves.

“MMMM…WHAT WAS that for?” I mumble against Alex’s lingering lips.

He brushes my cheek, straightening to sit down on the porcelain edge of the claw foot tub, “I woke up wanting to kiss you.” His eyes, raking over my submerged body, leave a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “As delicious as this visual is, it wasn’t nice to find you weren’t lying next to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I pout dramatically. “My body was begging for a bath. I swear I have sand in every crevice.”

“Not possible.” His heated gaze repeats its consumption of my naked form before his lips curl up in slow, soul burning grin. “I devoured every crevice of your perfect body in the shower last night.” He dips his hand in the water, lathering me with lust at the touch of his fingers up my thigh and tummy, a breathtaking, teasing caress of my sex in their journey.

“Well, perhaps you weren’t
thorough
enough,” I bite my lip devilishly.

His smirk widens, and I take advantage of the attention of his eyes returning to mine to display my overwhelming need for him in my gaze. Insatiable doesn’t describe what this man does to me. Being naked and wet under the captivating pull of him merely adds to his effect on me. Not to mention the euphoric romance of our locale. I only wish we could stay here on our little fantasy island, hidden from the realm of reality forever. For now, I’ll settle for the warmth of his beautiful body wrapped around mine in this tub. “Off with thy pants, Alexander the Great.”

“Not just yet,” he replies on a whisper, tracing a path through the beads of water leading to my belly button, his eyes lost in the motion.

I’m lost, myself, to the feel of him, my body reacting to the explosive current of his electrifying touch and the heat of his gaze. In his hands, under the spell of his eyes, I’m transported to another world. His world. And he has this way of making me feel like I’m the only one in it.

Mine
, his profession zings through my psyche as his touch tantalizes along my core.
Yours
, I reply silently, moaning, closing my eyes in the pleasure of his fleeting graze.
Always
.

Opening them to his stare, I note the sudden melancholy floating across his face. “Alex?”

He says nothing as he stands, turning to dry his hands in the terry robe hung nearby. Although he offers a warm grin at my questioning frown, I can’t help but shiver at what lies beneath it. Leaning against the wall, he bites the corner of his mouth as though preparing to break bad news.
Damn
. Please don’t be bad news.

“I received a message from the producers,” he begins, looking down momentarily in regret. I’m sure it has something to do with the disappointment that unconsciously, though, undoubtedly flashed across my face. “They need to push the shooting forward,” he looks back to me, crossing his arms over his chest, relaxing into his lean against the wall.

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