Three of Spades (9 page)

Dylan quickly took in the interior of the home, but was brought back to heaven when he got to look at Natalie. She looked beautiful and sexy, yet still wholesome. Her clothes were different from any that Dylan had seen thus far, but she wore them as they deserved to be. There were no denying the lines of her body dressed like that and Dylan found himself admiring every curve and swell that was defined. Not to mention her shoes, which were absolutely positively feminine. They gave the hint of her small toes, as well as showed off her sexy as hell legs.

Seeing her like this, waiting for him, made Dylan feel better than he had in a long time. Before he could look too much into that, he handed her the flowers and said, “Beautiful petals for an equally beautiful lady.”

“Thank you. Can I get you anything?” Natalie asked, feeling nervous standing with Dylan in the parlor.

“No, I’m good. Are you ready to go?” he asked, as he watched her inhale the sweet smell of the bouquet.

“Yes, I’m ready. If you can just give me a minute to find a vase and put these in water, we can leave,” Natalie said, as she walked past Dylan in the small entryway, while simultaneously trying to focus on walking.

Once in the kitchen, Natalie struggled to reach the old green vase that was kept on top of the refrigerator when suddenly Dylan was there and reached it with ease. Handing the vintage glass to Natalie, Dylan’s hand brushed hers and he felt that familiar buzz as he always did when he touched Natalie. After a mumbled saying of appreciation, Natalie busied herself filling the vase and arranging the flowers, giving Dylan time to take in another room in the home.

Natalie was suddenly conscience of the cracked linoleum floor, as well as the outdated appliances and furnishings. Moving as quickly as she could, she turned to him and asked if he was ready to go.

As they walked toward the door, Dylan asked if Natalie’s mother was home. Natalie gave a quick no for an answer and went about letting him exit ahead of her. She turned on the yellow insect light that adorned the front porch and locked the front door. She turned to walk down the stairs, when she ran head first into Dylan’s hard chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something wrong?” Natalie asked.

“No, nothing is wrong, just I haven’t done this,” Dylan whispered, as he leaned down and kissed her. He had wanted to since he woke up this morning; needing to taste her almost more than his desire for oxygen. Her mouth welcomed him as if he was a soldier returning from war. The minty freshness of her mouth gave off a cooling sensation making him beg for frostbite. Before they spent the night on this porch, Dylan gave another nibble and another slide of his tongue, before pulling back. As he leaned back, in the dim yellow glow of the light, he could see Natalie was slow to open her eyes from his kiss. When she did, she lifted her fingers to her now tender lips and brushed them to make sure they were still attached.

“Now we can go.” And with that Dylan grabbed a hold of Natalie’s hand and they walked toward his car.

The Dodge Challenger SRT8 was sleek and powerful. The fire engine red color, enhanced by the black racing stripe and gleaming chrome, looked like something that should be in a showroom not in her shabby driveway. With the old looks of classic muscle, yet the new technology of the 392 cubic inch Hemi V8 engine with its 6.4 liter 470HP this sleek machine could go from 0 to 60mph in under five seconds.

Dylan walked Natalie over to the passenger side, opened the door and waited until she was situated inside before closing the door. While Dylan walked around the back of the car, Natalie ran her hands over the cool soft leather of the seat. It felt as if she was sitting on the finest of chairs. Dylan climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. The massive roar could only be duplicated by his Harley. Dylan felt a jolt run up his spine as the beast bellowed out its power.

The ride to the quaint Italian restaurant was driven in silence mostly. Dylan could feel her nerves palpitating off her. In the dark quiet interior of the car, he was sure she would crack from the strain of literally not shaking.

“Natalie, relax. It is dinner and conversation. We are not going to do brain surgery,” Dylan purred, as he reached out and took her clammy hand into his.

They pulled into a parking spot close to the entrance. Dylan climbed out quickly and opened Natalie’s door before she could pull the handle herself. As they walked into the restaurant, Natalie noticed it was fairly empty with the exception of a few booths filled along the window. Dylan approached the hostess and spoke quietly to her. She looked past Dylan to Natalie and held a plastic smile on her face when she said, “Right this way.”

She guided them toward a table in the back corner that allowed for plenty of privacy. As the hostess waited for Dylan to push in Natalie’s chair and then seat himself, she handed them each a menu and told them their server would be right over. Natalie watched as the hostess walked away, turned back around and looked at Dylan, who was perusing his menu. Natalie took a deep breath and opened her own menu. When she had just gotten to the section listing the entrees, she could feel she was being watched. She lifted her eyes and was snagged in Dylan’s dark sexy gaze.

“Know what you want?” Dylan asked huskily, as his vision locked on to her small tongue scooting out and licking her soft bottom lip.

Natalie shook her head answering. Although she could not recall a single item on the menu when those deep brown eyes, lined by those long feather soft lashes, looked in her direction.

“You?” Natalie croaked out, feeling suddenly quite warm.

“What I want isn’t offered on this menu,” he answered, giving her a wink as their server asked for their order.

Later when their entrees were served and their wine glasses refilled, Dylan wanted to move past their current version of a conversation. Past where he would ask her a question and she would give him a one word answer. He waited until she had taken a bite of her pasta when he asked her to tell him about herself.

“I’m a teacher at Hamden Elementary.”

“I admire the teaching profession. To fill young minds with knowledge and watch as they consume piece after piece of it, just so they can learn the next piece. Looking back I wish I had paid more attention in school, rather than sports; maybe life would have been different,” Dylan said quietly, completely aware of how easy it was to give her bits of information about himself that he shared with so few.

“I understand why you were so driven by football. Your arm was like a missile. You made the ball an extension of your arm. It was like watching a painter glide their brush across a canvas. It was flawless.” As quickly as the words were out of her mouth, Natalie blushed. She watched his face first register shock but then a cocky grin as she compared his talent in artistic form.

So, she knew he was a football star. Dylan wondered if this was just another occurrence of small town life or was there more to it.

“You knew I played ball? Natalie, I seem to be at quite a disadvantage. You seem to know quite a bit about me, however, I am just finding out you are a teacher. Since you don’t seem comfortable discussing yourself, aside from your desire to rid yourself of your virginity, why don’t you tell me about your mother?”

The warm decadent taste of the pesto covered pasta lodged in Natalie’s throat at the mention of her mother. She swallowed and brought the cloth napkin that was on her lap up to her mouth. She sipped her wine and looked across the table to where Dylan seemed completely at ease, leaning back in his chair and lightly twirling his wineglass stem between his large fingers.

“What would you like to know?” Natalie croaked.

“Well, you told me that she was terminal, by the way I’m sorry to hear that, and that you wanted to comfort her by concocting a mock fulfilling relationship. So, I’m curious to know why a daughter feels that she just could not be honest, rather than go to such extremes?”

“Because, I apparently am not what I should be. My mother has always been supportive and had sheltered me, especially when my Dad was around. I was a surprise after my parents were done having children. My Dad had his two boys and then here comes an unexpected baby girl.” Feeling uncomfortable, but for some reason wanting to answer his question honestly. Natalie pushed her food around on her plate then gently placed her fork down again and met Dylan’s eyes once more. She continued to explain, “So, my Dad worked two jobs and drank a lot. The only time he wasn’t doing either was when he was on the sidelines watching my brothers play football.” Taking a deep breath to continue, she said, “He didn’t appreciate why I had to bring a book everywhere with me, or why my mother would choose to stay home with me, rather than watch ‘his boys’ play. Needless to say, it didn’t make for a happy marriage. After multiple blatant affairs and constant mental abuse towards my mother, my father was involved in a car accident that ultimately took his life thirteen years ago. After he passed, mom worked two, sometimes three jobs to keep us a float and put me through college. My brother’s both went to college on football scholarships and she wanted me to have the same opportunities. I tried to apply for loans, but she would not have it. So, there weren’t a lot of extra funds for anything else, but it was ok, because it was just me and Mom. For as loving as she had always been towards me, she seemed genuinely happy with just us. My brothers were married and living in their own homes at this point. Mom started not feeling well last year and just wasn’t herself; after multiple tests, they diagnosed her with Mesothelioma. One of the warehouse jobs she had to take was not up to building code and there was Asbestos. She recently was found to have another rapid onset. After much debate, my mother has chosen to halt all treatments and just live out the rest of her short life. All of a sudden, Mom and I are no longer a united front. She called my life disappointing, especially, since I don’t have a man. After everything she went through with my Dad, in a loveless horrible marriage, she now thinks that I need a man to have any sort of meaningful life.” She had closed her eyes to get the last part out; Natalie opened them and looked at Dylan. “So, after all that my mother has gone through in life because of me, if seeing me with a man will give her comfort and take some of her excruciating pain away, then yes, I will go through with a ridiculous fake relationship. I need to know that when she’s gone I finally made her happy,” she finished.

After listening to Natalie, Dylan felt a couple of different emotions. He felt disgust toward her father for treating any woman in such an abusive way, especially the woman he vowed to love and the one he brought into the world. But he also felt protective over this woman across from him; that anyone would make her feel less than perfect, particularly her parents. Natalie was a beautiful, smart, courageous woman and Dylan silently promised to make her happy, even if it was for this short period of time.

Knowing that she just darkened the already gloomy atmosphere she was creating, she picked up her purse and withdrew the small white envelope she had placed in there earlier. She placed it on the table in front of him.

“What’s this?” asked Dylan.

“I know you didn’t want a contract drawn up, but I am insistent on paying you for your time. I wrote an amount out, in an informal way, of what I’d like to give you for compensation.”

Here she goes again insulting his self-respect. It was bad enough, he himself, was still having ethical issues over what he agreed to do, but her wanting to put an amount on it made it feel that much more sleazy to him. It ultimately made him feel like the biggest prick of all time.

“I don’t want your money Natalie. Let’s just call this . . . not what I want to be remembered for when my time is up,” he said, and he saw the reaction to his words in her face.

Really
Cross?
You
had
to
use
the
death
reference.
Way
to
go
buddy,
you
are
now
the
front
runner
for
Bastard
of
the
Year.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean that the way it came out. But nevertheless, I do not want you paying me for anything that we do together,” Dylan said, hoping she would understand his momentary lapse in choice of words, but yet still, understand he was adamant on this point.

“Please Dylan, I insist. If you do not agree to the amount I chose, please come up with your own
reasonable
amount and I will happily accept that,” Natalie said firmly.

Asking for a pen and piece of paper from the passing server, Dylan quickly wrote and added it to the unsealed envelope. He licked it, sealing the envelope and decided to beat her at her own game.

“Okay, Natalie. I wrote something on the piece of paper, and yes, it is something of worth. I’ll make a deal with you. When we mutually agree to terminate our relationship, because all requirements from our business arrangement have produced the results you wanted, I will take what I wrote. If you call off our relationship at any point, or if I call it off before your required results are obtained, then I will willingly accept what you wrote down. Agreed?”

“May I know your suggested amount?” Natalie asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, you will have to take me at my word, that it is reasonable,” Dylan countered, excited over his quick thinking.

“Well then, what choice do I have other than to agree?” she said quietly.

“That, Babe, is exactly the only choice you have,” Dylan answered in his notorious cocky way. He smiled as they shook over their verbal promise.

Dylan asked Natalie if she was done with her meal, when she answered yes, he signaled for their check. The server came back and Dylan handed him his credit card without even looking at the bill. After he signed for the charges, Dylan helped Natalie out of her chair and walked along beside her with his hand at the small of her back.