Waking Up (24 page)

I talk about her kitchen-zilla ways and how adorable I thought they were.  Yes, I told Grams they were adorable before I could stop my runaway mouth.  Think I turned into a chick this morning.  I may have even gushed over her food, but that’s because I’ve been eating shit for a week.  Need my masculinity back for a minute.

Grams is quiet the entire time I tell her about Adriana’s friends.  About how they took me in.  Treated me like they always knew me.  Well, after they got over the shock of my extended stay invitation.  She listens to everything including the fact that yesterday would have been Alex’s birthday.

When I finish, she’s quiet for a minute and I let her be.  I know she’s processing.  Grams isn’t one to blurt things without thinking it through.  She’s never hurtful or mean.  She’s the most considerate and loving person I know.

“Why are you leaving?”

It’s the last thing I expect her to say.

“What?”

“You heard me.  Why are you leaving?”

“You know why, Grams.  I can only hurt her.  Besides, she’s still in love with her husband.  There’s nothing here for me.”

“Oh, sweetie.  Always cutting off your nose to spite your face.  She’s in love with a memory.  The man is no longer there to be in love with.  Sounds to me like she wouldn’t have invited you to stay if she didn’t see something in you.”

“Grams, stop,” I warn.  “She’s grieving.  I have no right to come in here, make her feel, and then go back to my world, leaving her here a bigger mess than she was before.  It’s not right and it’s not fair to her.  You raised me better than that.”

“I sure as hell did!”  I hear the temper flare in her voice.  “I am not telling you to have an affair with the woman.  I’m telling you to stay and get to know her.  Is the concept of friendship lost on your generation?”

Friendship?  Could I be friends with Adriana?  With how badly I want her every time I look at her, how my body comes alive at her touch, I doubt that is a possibility.  I just don’t see how that could work.

“Don’t you think that would still hurt her?  I’ll still be leaving.”

“But you won’t be dead, will you?  Stop shutting people out of your life, Tucker.  That is an order from your Grandmother.  I’m telling you to stay and get to know these people, dammit!”

I’m taken aback.  Grams never uses any kind of bad language and in one conversation she has said hell and damn.   I must really have her flustered.

“I’m sorry, Grams, but I’m not a little boy anymore.  You can’t tell me what to do now and I can’t promise you that I’ll stay.  I can only promise you that I’ll think about it.”  I feel bad because I’m already breaking a promise to her.  I have no intention of staying.

“Stubborn mule.  Never can see what’s best for you.  Fine.  If you won’t listen to reasoning then I guess I’ll talk to you later.  Goodbye.”  She hangs up without waiting for me to respond.  I know she’s upset and I feel horrible.  I feel like a teenager all over again disappointing her, but this time I’m doing the right thing.

I walk over to the computer desk in the corner and open a couple drawers, happy when I find a paper and pen.  I know I’m a dick for doing things this way, but I can’t look Adriana in the eye and say goodbye to her.  I sit down and start writing a thank you to her for taking me in.  I’m staring at the paper trying to think of what to write for a reason I’m leaving when a knock sounds on the door.

Well shit, that can only be one person.

                                       *************************

Thankful I had thrown on some jeans and a t-shirt while talking to Grams, I tell her to come in.  Her smile is the first thing I see when she comes in and it makes my heart stop for a second or two.  I can’t help but notice how sexy she looks in the denim mini skirt and black tank top she’s wearing.  Her look is so simple, but it’s all she needs.  She’s about to say something till she sees the paper on the desk, pen in my hand.  So many looks cross her face in a couple seconds that I can’t keep up; confusion, hurt, relief.  I’m pissed at myself that I didn’t think to hide it before she walked in.  
Hindsight.
  Still lost in my thoughts of wishing she hadn’t seen the paper, I miss her walking toward me until it’s too late.

She grabs the paper and starts reading it.  I want to take it back.  Not just the paper, but what I wrote.  I hadn’t written much, but it was clearly stated that I was leaving.  And now that she read that, she knows.  It’s what’s best, but it doesn’t mean it’s what I want.  Fuck.

The paper is covering her face so I don’t have an inkling of what she may be thinking.  I wish I could see her face so I could see if I totally messed up or not.  Maybe she was coming to ask me to leave.  Maybe she came to the same conclusion I had, that me being here isn’t a good idea.  

What if she’s been feeling the spark and was coming to see if I’ve been feeling it too and she found me saying goodbye?  What if I just crushed her?  Shit!

Slapping the paper onto the desk, she eyes me.  Grayness clouding her eyes.  Yep, I fucked up.

“A note, Tucker, really?  Is that how things are handled in Hollywood?”  I don’t know how to answer her, so I say nothing, too afraid of making things worse.  “I thought I was helping you.  If you really don’t want to stay here and have a good reason to leave then that’s fine, but the way things work here is we talk about it like adults.  Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes.  Should give you time to get showered and be ready to talk, right?”

She’s staring me down even though I’m well over a foot taller than her.  She’s folded her arms over her chest.  I’m sure as a way of protecting herself after she opened up and let me stay here.  Her eyes are asking me why, but I know I can’t answer that honestly.  She’s not ready to hear that I want her.  In so many ways.  That me staying here means I’ll eventually try to get into her bed.  Try to ask her for things she isn’t ready for.  Hurt her.  I can’t tell her that in one day I felt more for her than the woman I was with for almost two years.

“Yeah.  I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

“Fine.  If you really want to leave after we talk, then I’ll hold the door open for you and I won’t even let it hit you on the ass on the way out.”  She turns and walks out, closing the door behind her, not slamming it like I would have done.  I swear I hear her mutter, “Why do you want him to stay?” But, again, I think I hear what I want to hear.

Chapter Fifteen

Adriana

A note?  A Goddamn, motherfucking note?  That’s what he was going to leave?  To tell me he was leaving.  Was he going to wait till I was taking a piss and run for it?  How did he think this was going to work?  

Trying to calm down, trying to understand why I’m even so angry, I go back to the kitchen to make some fresh squeezed orange juice and check on the quiche in the oven.  Last night I had made up my mind to ask him to leave, but this morning seeing that note changed everything.  

I couldn’t go through with it.

My heart lurched in my chest when I saw him sitting at the desk– pen in hand, paper lying there.  I knew what he was doing and I wanted to scream “NO” at him.  Tell him the first time I had felt alive in close to a year and a half was yesterday, when he came into my life.  But, that would make him run even faster.

What was I going to do if he decided to leave?  

I didn’t want to go back to being numb.  Numb to everything around me except the pain.  The pain of losing Alex.  Oh God.  Alex.  

How can I be so upset about Tucker when I love Alex?  I’m in love with Alex.  It must be because I’ve been without his touch for so long.  That has to be it.  I’m craving the contact.  

Then why did none of the guys from the dating site affect you like this?

The thought runs through my mind before I can stop it.  Guilt swamps me.  If Alex can see me, I know he can see this.  Can see me being attracted to another man and I know it will hurt him.  I have to bite my lip to keep myself from crying out.

I should have let Tucker leave like he wanted to.  Why did I make a scene?  Guilt eats at me for being attracted to Tucker.  For wanting him here.  For hurting Alex.  Guilt eats at me for knowing I won’t be able to give Tucker anything.  How I hope he doesn’t want anything.

Of course he doesn’t.  He’s a fucking movie star.  He could have any woman he wants.  The last thing he’d do is look for a woman in the sticks of New Hampshire.

Feeling a little better, I go about making the OJ.

                   *****************************

I’m humming Seether’s
Broken
when Tucker walks into the kitchen.  I didn’t hear him enter, but the tingling in my spine tells me he’s there.  His presence fills the space in a way I can’t explain.  My mouth goes dry and I’m glad that I still have a couple oranges to finish up, needing a minute to gain my composure.

Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth a couple times, I tell him over my shoulder that breakfast has a few more minutes.  I notice his discomfort and curt response and instantly miss the easy flow we had the day before.

Cutting a slice off the orange, I turn and bring it to his mouth without thinking and before I can stop myself.  Surprise flickers through his eyes.  “Best oranges in town.”  I hear the longing in my voice, the strain and need.  I hope he doesn’t hear it, too.  

He puts his hand over mine, holding it there while he eats the orange and sucks the juice from the rind.  Holy shit I think I could have an orgasm right here, right now.  His eyes never leave mine and I blush thinking he may know what I was thinking.

“I’m sorry if I was rude to you upstairs.  You’re not a prisoner here, Tucker.  Free to go whenever you please.”  I go to walk away, but he holds onto my wrist.  I turn back to him, feeling an intensity I haven’t felt in so long.  He’s looking down at me.  I see some of the juice from the orange glistening on his lower lip and have the urge to lick it off.  I have to stifle a moan.  I bring my eyes to his and I’m stuck there.  
Paralyzed
.

His hand is still wrapped around my wrist.  The heat from his hand pulsing though me.  His eyes bore into mine.  All I can think about is licking the juice from his lip.  If he would just kiss me I could still get that juice.  How I wish I was daring enough to kiss him.

I can see a war going on in his eyes and I wish I knew what he was thinking.  Wish I had more experience with men.  His head lowers fractionally.  This is it.  I think we’re on the same page.  I start to raise up on my toes.  A charge of electricity is sparking back and forth between us.  I think I can hear his heart beating in rhythm with mine.

Before our lips can meet.  Before I can close my eyes, revel in the pressure of his lips on mine, the sweetness of the juice in my mouth, the timer on my oven goes off, breaking the spell we were in.

He releases my wrist.  I watch as his tongue sweeps across his lower lip, wiping away the remnants of juice.  I’m so jealous and way too focused on his mouth.  The smile that crosses his face tells me he knows exactly where my mind is at.

I would kill to know where his is.

“Damn good orange,” he says licking his lip again.

I’m trying to ignore the ache between my legs as I grab potholders.  I can feel his eyes following me.

“Food smells amazing.”  His voice is vibrating through my body.  I don’t know why my body is conspiring against me this morning, but I really want it to stop before I embarrass myself.  Panties damp, core aching, and nipples hard, I’m glad my back is to him.  I need a few moments to compose myself.

What the hell is going on with me?  I’m like an animal in heat.

Pulling the quiches from the oven, I allow myself a second to drink in the scents of the food.  Get lost in the combinations of smells filling the air.  I love cooking and the calm it brings me.

Feeling Tucker directly behind me brings my body fully alert.  I stand straight and turn around.  Like yesterday, he’s in my personal space.  He looks like he’s hungry and I’m on the menu.

“Anything I can help you with, sweetness?”  There are so many ways I could answer that question, but none are appropriate.  I try to say something, but words allude me.  Staring into his blue eyes, all I can think is I want to grab onto his hair that’s still wet from his shower, pull him to me, and kiss him.  Lose myself in him for a while.

“Plates and forks,” I rasp out.  I don’t recognize the voice that left my lips.  It’s low and sexy.  Not my voice at all.  My inner sex kitten is trying to paw her way out.

The smile, full dimples, he throws at me has me all but throwing myself at him, asking him to take me right here in my kitchen.  I have to mentally slap myself in the face.  I point to where things are, not trusting what will come out of my mouth for a minute or two, and grab a knife to cut the food.  

“Hope you like quiche.  Thought you could use a filling breakfast.”  Did I just say “filling”?  Oh my God!  The word alone has me thinking about what he has packing in his jeans and I feel a blush creep to my cheeks.  “Ahh, one’s ham and bacon and the other’s zucchini and tomato.”

“Sounds delicious,” he says standing before me with plates and forks in hand.  The beaming smile on his face takes my breath away.  He really is gorgeous.

“Which one?”

“Yep.”  He smiles broadly at me and I smile back, enjoying that our easy banter is back.  It’s like I’ve known him for years instead of hours.  Still smiling, I cut him a large piece of both, my breath catching as our hands touch for a passing second while he’s handing me the plates.  I swear he feels it, too.

         ***************************

Over breakfast I ask the question I’m dreading, why he’s leaving.  He tells me it’s to protect me.  To keep me from fighting with my friends.  I tell him that’s sweet, but there’s nothing to protect me from.  His squirming tells me there’s more that he’s not willing to tell me.  I can’t force him to talk to me.  I can’t force him to stay.  I wish I could.  I wish so many things that are out of my control.