Decker's Wood

“I can’t believe people actually stored their horse and carriages in there,” I whispered in awe.

 

The carriage houses of New York were an awe-inspiring sight. Filled with history and charm, I was drawn to their old-world beauty. I loved all things historical and aged. Decker obviously realized that when he decided to bring me here. That thought alone made my heart swoon for him a little more. I sighed, as if I needed to be anymore Team Decker. The man had me wrapped around his damn pinky. His confession the night before that he was thinking about taking on more work in his and his father’s business had completely thawed any reluctance I had for him and us. The thought of Decker studying architecture made me grin with delight. I could just imagine a disheveled Decker Steele in nothing but a pair of tattered low slung jeans as he pondered over an architect’s display easel. He was already so sexy, but to see him deep in thought in something he loved—outside of porn—made my nether region clench with appreciation.

 

“Not everyone could afford horses and carriages, for those it was merely a storage facility like a garage or shed is for us today. The more wealth, the larger the space beneath the home, the more space the more horses and the more carriages,” Decker explained, his voice lost in his own obvious love for the historical buildings.

 

“What do people store in them now?” I wondered, noticing some of the carriage houses had only a small door and windows on what was once a storage space for transportation.

 

“Some people just use it for general storage, some might have a car down there. A few have been converted into an extension of the house, extra rooms and quest quarters.” Decker stopped out front a beautiful home with potted lavender flowers hanging under third story eaves. “A lot of these homes have been influenced by Victorian design, the stained glass bay windows, decorative molding and trimming.” He pointed to the next home along. “Or that cobblestone effect, that’s classically Victorian.”

 

“I like this one.” I nodded towards the home directly in front of us, with its floral arrangements and old-fashioned appeal, it was peaceful and charismatic.

 

“You hungry?” Decker said out of the blue. “I’m starving.” He rubbed his stomach and glanced down at me.

 

I raised a brow. “In the time you’ve known me, do you recall a moment where I turned down food?” He grinned that sexy wolfish grin that made my skin tingle and heart thump loudly. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, the thick stubble on his jaw tickling my cheek. The backs of his fingers ran down my arm until his fingers tangled with mine.

 

“Then let’s go eat before I find a dark corner to push you into so I can devour you right here, right now.” Decker pressed a firm but gentle kiss to my lips. It was almost chaste, almost. That last caress of his tongue made it something more. I’m sure I could have found something sarcastic or witty to say in response to his declaration of public eroticism, but that kiss scrambled my brain faster than you could say, ‘horny much’.

 

Decker continued to hold my hand as we walked away from the historical village hidden amongst the modern concrete structures. Public displays of affection were a foreign concept to me. I had never experienced something as simple as holding hands. I relished the feeling of safety and possession his sure grip gave me. Such willingness to announce to the world that I was his and he was mine gave me a girlish thrill. I wanted to find a tree and draw a heart with our initials inside its curved walls into the bark. I wanted to share a meal of spaghetti just like in Lady and the Tramp. I wanted to lean into his strong embrace on a slow horse drawn carriage ride through Central Park just like a princess from a fairytale. Fuck, I wanted to make him a mixed tape. I almost laughed out loud at that thought.

 

Otto was a warmly lit, hard wood floored Italian restaurant that, according to Decker, boasted the largest Italian wine list, ever! As much as I wanted to fulfil one of my girlish desires and share a pasta dish, Decker ordered us pizza. Screw the wine list, this was officially the best pizza I had ever encountered. I was up three slices to Decker’s two when he cast me a disgruntled look.

 

“What?” I said through a mouthful of food.

 

“You’re going to choke on that if you keep eating so fast.” The teasing play in his eyes made me giggle. Yes, giggle, like a freakin’ school girl.