When Amber retired, prior to Claire’s announcement, Harry smiled and asked, “So are you tired from your trip, or would you like to go next door for another video game lesson?”
Throughout her vacation Claire spent some time thinking about their last gaming lesson. Truthfully, she wasn’t looking for a romantic interest. It was even difficult to image herself with anyone but Tony. Yet, as they sat a week ago, side by side, holding the newfangled controllers and laughing at her avatar’s jerky movements, she sensed a mutual admiration. It showed in his soft blue eyes and his encouragement and support. There was no domination or instruction. After her recent loneliness, Harry’s comfort was refreshing and so different than anything with Tony. The light-heartedness, warmth and mutual appreciation allowed her to lower her guard. When he gently eased his arm around her waist, she was only mildly surprised. Instantly, Claire realized she didn’t want to protest. Therefore, when his lips neared hers, she’d intended to submit willingly. But, before she could he stopped.
Claire opened her eyes unsure of what happened. His honest and even timid expression reflected in his words, “Claire, are you sure you’re all right with this?”
His unexpected need for permission flooded her with admiration. Claire didn’t answer, she wasn’t sure if she could trust her voice. Instead she nodded and leaned toward him.
Harry pressed forward and their lips united. She felt his warm chest against her breasts. It had been so long, she unconsciously molded against him.
They didn’t take it beyond kissing and caressing. However, multiple times throughout her vacation the memories of that gaming session infiltrated her thoughts. Lying in the sun she’d suddenly remember his strong arms, unruly hair, or the scent of his aftershave, and uncontrollably she’d feel a tightening somewhere deep inside. It was an old feeling. However, having it brought about by a new source was surprisingly refreshing.
Now, he was asking if she wanted to play video games. She knew he didn’t mean video games. With a twinkle in her eyes she answered, “I don’t know, do you think I still need lessons?”
Harry glanced toward his sister’s room. Turning back to Claire he whispered, “No, I don’t think you need lessons at all. Maybe we could just play?”
“Hmm now that’s an offer a girl can’t refuse.”
He took her hand and led her toward the door.
She’d been in Harry’s condominium many times. Though smaller than Amber’s, the one bedroom unit was equally lavish in design with quality craftsmanship, wooden floors, handcrafted woodwork, granite counters, and ornamental lighting. Nevertheless, what continued to bring a smile to Claire’s face was his amusingly eclectic decor. While obviously equipped by a man, technology was the main focus. Couches, chairs, and tables were secondary to large screens, speakers, and surround sound. All he needed was a pool table in the dining room to have an official bachelor pad. The first time Claire entered his condominium, she half expected to turn the corner and find one, or perhaps foosball, but surprisingly he did indeed have a real dining room table.
“Would you like anything to drink? I have some Cabernet.” Harry asked as they passed the threshold, into his abode. Claire noticed the low set, indirect lighting. She smirked, wondering if she were indeed that predicable.
“Sure. Do you want me to get the PS3 out?” Claire asked with a grin to her voice.
“Unless, you want to practice your skills on the Wii? It does requires more hands-on, you know, use of your entire body.”
“I’ve never played that.”
He was calling from the kitchen. Claire could hear the pop of the cork. “I bet with a little help, you’ll catch on fast.”
Harry entered the living room and handed her a goblet. Smiling, he leaned in for a kiss.
She absorbed his warm smile and willingly accepted his puckered lips. “Can we talk before we try the Wii?”
“We can do whatever you want.” Harry sat on the sofa.
Claire eased herself a few feet away and turned toward his handsome gaze. She never expected this to be so difficult. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you about a delivery that came just before I left on my trip.”
Harry sat his glass on the coffee table and asked, “Delivery? Did you receive more flowers?”
“Not flowers...” Claire went on to tell him about the note and the clothes. She watched as tension tightened his neck muscles. For someone who was mostly calm, the subject of Anthony Rawlings, in more than an abstract sense, initiated obvious unease.
“And you plan to go on this outing? You plan to get into this car he’s sending?”