Chapter Seven
~Clare~
I never thought Saturday would arrive.
I felt like Maddie waiting for Santa. I think that fact alone made me truly pathetic.
The week leading up to the date hadn’t started out with excitement. In fact, it started with absolute dread.
After Logan kissed me, that epic earth shattering kiss, and my heart rate returned to normal, I began to panic. What was I thinking? Could I do this?
Afterward, I locked up the house and walked into my bedroom in a daze. I started to contemplate every different way I could get out of that date. I wasn’t ready to date. It was too soon, right? Maybe in another five years. That sounded reasonable, I told myself as I paced the room. I eventually walked over to the floor length mirror I stared into a week earlier and took a long look at myself again.
My cheeks were flushed and my lips were swollen and for the first time in over three years. I actually looked alive. That part of me, the feminine side all women have that makes us feel sexy and wanted, was back.
I survived Ethan’s death. I had come back from the ashes and lived. But until that night there was still a part of me that was missing. I could feel a sliver of it returning as I glanced in that mirror.
I hadn’t lost myself to grief and I could come back whole again.
Feeling my confidence returning, I grinned in the mirror, placed a hand over my swollen lips and finally began looking forward to my date.
The next morning I awoke in another panic when I realized I had nothing to wear. The only things I owned were what Leah dubbed “Mom clothes.” Jeans, sweaters, tank tops and other random washable items. If it couldn’t handle a jelly stain, I didn’t own it.
I called Leah for an emergency shopping trip.
Complete silence, followed by an ear piercing scream filled the airwaves when I told her the reason. I thanked God I wasn’t anywhere public because I’m pretty sure anyone standing within ten feet of me would have thought the person on the other end was being murdered while I was standing there, calmly doing nothing.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked.
“Leah, seriously calm down.”
“You have a date! We must go shopping.”
I was pretty sure I had already mentioned that. “I know. I’m dropping off Maddie at my parents’ tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good. Plan on leaving her there for dinner, cause we have some serious work to do,” she instructed.
She wasn’t kidding. We shopped for hours and she made me promise to go to the salon to get a mani/pedi on Friday so my nails would be freshly polished. As we were leaving the mall, she said I may want to throw in a wax. When I gave her a hard stare, she looked at me innocently saying “What? You never know! Gotta be prepared, Clare!”
I think Leah was always prepared, for everything.
And now, Saturday was finally here. Leah had just arrived. She had offered to babysit for the evening, which I thought was sweet, but I think she was doing it to be nosy.
No, scratch that. I knew she was being nosy because she was sitting on my bed with Maddie watching me get ready.
“Mommy’s going on a date. Do you know what that is?” she quizzed Maddie, absently playing with her hair. Maddie, who was seated on her lap was busy playing with her doll. She shook her head.
“Is it like a play date?” she asked Leah.
“Um, yes. But with kissing,” Leah explained. I turned around from my vanity to give her a glare. She looked at me like she couldn’t possibly understand what she did wrong. Leah’s filter has a lot of holes. After all this time, I actually was starting to believe she didn’t have one at all and just said whatever came to mind.
“Ewwww. That’s gross, Aunt Leah.”
“Hey, I’m not the one kissing anyone. Talk to your Mom.” I hadn’t talked to Maddie about this, and I had hoped to avoid it for at least another date or five.
“Who are you kissing, Mommy?” she inquired, suddenly getting very serious.
With my focus back on the mirror and the mascara I was trying to apply, I glanced at her quickly, and tried to brush off the question with a quick answer.
“Just you!” I insisted.
My exuberant response doesn’t work, and she pressed on for more answers.
“On your date, who are your kissing Mommy?” she asked again, still serious.
“I don’t know if I am going to kiss anyone, baby. I’m going on a date with Dr. Matthews. Are you okay with that?” I asked carefully.
“Oh. Yes!” she grinned brightly, going back to her doll play.
Leah looked at me in the mirror and we both shrugged.
Well, apparently that talk was done.
~Logan~
I pulled into Clare’s driveway just as I had a week earlier, but today I felt completely different. I was still nervous, but now it felt like a different nervous, more a feeling of anticipation. Last week I was unsure of the path I should take with Clare. I wanted her. I wanted her more than anything. But I didn’t know if I could trust myself. I still wasn’t completely confident. After last Saturday though, when I held her in my arms and kissed her for the first time, I knew one thing. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I planned on making sure she understood that today.
I took one last deep breath, got out of my car and headed for the door. As I rounded the corner of the driveway, I nearly ran headfirst into Maddie who was barreling toward me.
“Whoa there, princess. What are you doing out here?” Clare would not be pleased if she knew Maddie was out here without permission.
“It’s okay. Mommy and Aunt Leah saw you from the window and said I could come get you. They’ve been up there forever,” she huffed.
Apparently the female rituals of beauty hadn’t captured her attention yet. I looked up at the window I thought must be Clare’s bedroom, and saw Leah’s small frame smiling down at me. She gave a small wave before disappearing behind the curtain. I chuckled wondering how long they’d been up there. Obviously long enough to drive a small child nearly insane. Poor kid.
“Forever, huh? Does your Mommy look pretty?” I asked, picking her up en route to the front door. I couldn’t wait to see Clare. The week since our kiss had been long and difficult. We’d spent many hours on the phone, but I hadn’t had the chance to see her in person. With my crazy schedule, I had to work double time to swing another Saturday off.
“Yeah, she’s got a pretty dress on and she smells real good. Aunt Leah said Mommy should smell yummy on a date.”
I choked back a laugh.
She became silent for a moment before asking, “Are you going to kiss my Mommy?”
Completely unprepared for this, I came to an abrupt stop, standing there on the front step just before we entered the house. How do I answer this? Will she hate me if I say yes? I can’t lie. Not to Maddie. I looked at her for the first time, expecting a look of betrayal or hurt on her tiny face, but instead she was smiling. Amazing. It was the only word I had for this child.
“Cause it’s okay if you want to,” she added.
“Oh yeah?” I teased, tickling her between the ribs as we entered the house.
“Yes!” she squealed in between hysterical fits of laughter.
“Well thanks for the permission, princess.” I sat Maddie down in the middle of the living room, which was just to the left of the front door. She looked at me with her big bright grin and I attacked, chasing her throughout the living room.
“No problem!” she shrieked, when I finally caught her in my arms.
“So, should I just go back upstairs? ‘Cause I feel like I’m intruding.”
We had been making so much noise I hadn’t even heard her enter the room.
Turning, with Maddie slung over my shoulder, I saw Clare for the first time in a week, leaning against the doorframe of the living room. I suddenly felt my knees grow weak from the mere sight of her. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to seeing her without my heart rate doubling. I really hoped not.
When she asked where we were going, I simply told her to dress semi-casually, but that was all I told her. Everything else was a surprise. The dress Maddie had mentioned was simple but beautiful on her. The bright orange under an ivory lace overlay brought out the fiery tones in her hair and made her skin glow. The dress gathered at her slim waist with a belt, and it was short, giving me plenty of her long legs to stare at. She had a denim jacket tucked under her arm, and was wearing strappy sandals that wound around her ankle. She looked amazing, but I’d seen her covered in vomit and thought she’d been breathtaking. She was stunning no matter what she was wearing.
“You look...Wow,” I stammered, leaning over to set Maddie down. I walked over to where Clare was standing.
“Hey Maddie, why don’t you go find where Aunt Leah’s run off to?” Clare suggested, briefly glancing over at Maddie and then returning back to me. Everything else disappeared for a moment. After a week away, I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and kiss her senseless. The look in her eyes told me she was on the same exact page.
“Oh, I’m right here. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife,” Leah shouted from the kitchen.
Clare reluctantly pulled her gaze from mine and circled around to Leah, who was currently sporting a messy bun piled at the top her head and a faded hooters t-shirt. She leaned casually on the granite countertop watching us, clearly amused.
“Seriously, Leah! She has ears. One of these days she’s going to repeat something you say to her daycare teacher or my Mom!” Clare scolded.
“Oh please, if Maddie said something to your Mom, she would know right away who taught it to her. Laura would come after me with a bar of soap,” she insisted.
“Well, at least she knows which one of us has the dirty mind,” Clare said, walking to the kitchen counter to retrieve her purse. As she passed Leah, she reached over and pinched her in the ass causing her to yelp, and they both laughed.
“Ha! I’m just more vocal about mine,” she argued as she rubbed her sore butt cheek.
“Not true. I’m an angel.” Clare said, officially ending the conversation.
I personally would love to know more about Clare’s dirty mind, but instead she went over Maddie’s evening routine with Leah, who just stood in the kitchen and rolled her eyes.
“Not too much sugar. Remember to feed her dinner. And make sure she brushes her teeth,” she reminded, giving Leah a pointed look.
Leah held up her hands in defense. “What? It was one time. Who says they need to brush their teeth every day?”
Clare shook her head and huffed in exasperation, leaving the kitchen to find Maddie who had arranged herself on the couch in the family room. She was reading a book with Dora the Explorer on the front. I smiled, knowing Clare hated Dora. Another late night conversation.
“Okay baby, Logan and I are gonna go. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.” She knelt down in front of her daughter who was doing a good job ignoring her. Bent over, her thigh was in full view, and I desperately tried not to stare as she said goodbye to Maddie.
I was doing a terrible job of not looking at her thigh and I heard Leah snort in the background.
Busted. My covert glances were obviously not so covert.
“Love you too, Mommy.” Maddie said absently, clearly engrossed in her book.
Clare laughed, “She’s really going to miss me, I swear.”
We headed for the door and I called out, “Bye, princess.”
“Bye, Logan!” Maddie yelled from the family room.
Leah gave me a wink followed by two thumbs up as we walked out, and I chuckled.
I was starting to like her.
~Clare~
“So are you going to tell me where we are going?” I asked Logan as we continued down the scenic highway we’d been on for what seemed like forever. Spring was my favorite season in Virginia. After endless months of bare trees and cold temperatures, spring would finally arrive. The trees flowered perfuming the air, the skyline filled with color and the days were just right for trips to the park and long walks through the neighborhood. The rural highway we roamed down now was no exception. Green trees, old worn fences and the occasional farm would pass as we drove giving a sense of peace that a world like this still existed when everything else around us moved so quickly.
“Nope,” he said as a wide, knowing grin spread across his flawless face.
“You’re really enjoying this secrecy thing, aren’t you?”
“I haven’t been on a date in a long time, and yeah...surprising you? It’s kind of fun,” he admitted.
“You haven’t dated since your divorce?” Between our long conversations on the phone and texting, he had talked about the divorce. He mentioned the cheating, and everything that happened with the press, but that was it. He didn’t talk much about his life during his marriage or after his divorce. When he did, it was vague. Mostly work related or small tidbits about friends. I knew he was holding back. Whatever the reason, I hadn’t pressed for information because I wanted him to come to me when he was ready. I understood heartache and pain, and we would both have to learn to trust each other with our own emotional scars. I had only skimmed the surface when he asked about losing Ethan. Sometimes, certain things were hard to admit, no matter who you were admitting them to.
“Dated, no. No, I definitely haven’t done this in a while.” He looked nervous, like he expected me to press for more. I didn’t. Thanks again to Leah and her savvy skills for gossip, I know the reputation he earned since his divorce, but he was here with me now. I had to believe that I meant something to him, something different.
“So, are we staying in Virginia?” I asked as I looked out the window and saw another farm pass by. Exactly how far we were driving?
He visibly relaxed at the change of conversation and laughed “Yes, we don’t have much longer.”
After fifteen minutes and an interesting conversation that involved me admitting my obsession with Broadway musicals, we arrived at our destination. When I asked him if he liked musical theater, he looked over at me, shocked, like I’d gone mad, and said, “Clare, you have noticed I’m a guy, right? Because if not, I can pull this car over right now and make that abundantly clear.”
I stared at him stunned, face turning an awful shade of red, imagining all the things we could do in that car alone. As my mind raced with a hundred different fantasies, he just smirked and said, “Breathe Clare.” I took a big gulp of air into my lungs as he started his tirade against musicals. “I loathe musicals. Randomly breaking out into song? What’s that about? It’s just plain wrong.”
I burst into laughter and we proceeded to argue the pros and cons of musical theater. Somehow I didn’t think I’d be convincing him to see “Cats” anytime soon.
We turned onto a gravel road with a worn sign that had “The Thompson Plantation Bed and Breakfast. Est. 1809” printed in wispy elegant script. I turned in my seat, a bit confused and said, “A Bed and Breakfast? A bit presumptuous, aren’t we?” I joked as we traveled down the tree lined single lane road.
“One can only hope,” he grinned. “But no. We will be enjoying dinner. Only.”
“Oh.”
“Who’s the presumptuous one now?” he laughed.
“Hey, you’re the one taking me to a -- holy shit!” I yelled, stopping myself mid-sentence when the house came into view.
The word house was an understatement. It was huge. The colossal white mansion sat along the glistening waters of the James River. We had been driving so long and talking so much, I hadn’t realized we were even following the river. Massive, dense gardens surround the house from every side, holding every flower imaginable. It looked like a postcard come to life.
The house was everything you would expect of a southern plantation, with black plantation shutters, huge white columns, and a wraparound porch. I could just close my eyes and envision what it must have looked like during the Civil War with elegantly dressed women wandering around the gardens worrying about their men as the slaves performed their duties, wondering if things would ever be different. So much history stood in this structure.
“Oh my God, Logan. This is amazing.” I grabbed the door handle, dying to jump out of the car and explore. As a history major, or “history nerd” as Ethan used to call me, I had a love for everything old. It was one of the reasons I loved living in Virginia. Once I became a single mother, I had little time left for myself. My inner nerd had been seriously deprived over the last few years. Right now, she was bouncing up and down in excitement.
“So, good surprise?” he asked, still seated in the car.
“Yes! Perfect. Now let’s go! I want to see everything!”
Laughing at my enthusiasm, he opened his door, quickly running around to open mine. He was too late. I was already out of the car, practically foaming at the mouth. I was like a kid in a candy store. My eyes were darting everywhere. There were gardens, an old barn, the house…I wanted to see it all!
“I figured a history lover would have visited all the local plantations by now, but I took a chance on this one because of its location and the fact that it was a Bed and Breakfast.
“It’s magnificent,” I sighed. It was. Whoever owned the property took precious care of it. The pristine gardens had winding paths, budding roses, and ivy covered arches that all lead to a view of the James River that went on for miles.
“Come on. The Innkeeper, Ms. Thompson is expecting us,” Logan said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the grand entrance of the estate.
His hand felt warm and solid in mine and it began stirring something inside of me I hadn’t felt in a long time. I had the same feeling last week when he pulled me in his arms and kissed me senseless. Desire.
Walking along the path, I allowed myself a few moments to shamelessly look Logan up and down. God, he’s sexy. He wore dark jeans that rested low on his hips and hugged his ass and a tight fitted button down shirt that matched the dark color of his hair. He looked edible. The bottom button of his shirt was left undone, and I could see his belt buckle and a bit of skin peeking out whenever he moved just right. I wondered if that button was purposely undone because it was currently driving me insane. All I wanted to do was run my hands under that shirt and pet him until he purred.
He was still sporting his “just f*cked” hairstyle, the norm for him I realized, and it was just as hot as it was the first time I saw him, all messy and tossed to perfection. We reached the front of the estate and just as I was contemplating what it would look like with my hands buried in it, he glanced back, basically catching me in the act of eye f*cking him.
Oops.
One side of his mouth pulled into a mischievous, lopsided grin. His eyes alight with humor, he took a step closer to me so that we are inches apart.
“See something you like, Clare?”
“That’s got to be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I teased, even though, yes there were quite a number of things I saw at the moment I liked. But I just couldn’t let that cheeseball line go. It was horrible.
He shook his head, clearly amused, saying, “You must be the hardest woman in the world to flirt with.”
“Ohhhh that was flirting? I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I mocked.
“Maybe I need to try harder,” he whispered in my ear, pulling my body flush against his, sending shivers racing down my spine.
Gently brushing the hair off my bare shoulder, his fingers trailed down my back to rest at my waist. All joking between us was gone, and I looked into his eyes with raw need.
“You are so beautiful, sweet Clare.”
Just as he started to lean in, his soft lips mere inches from mine, the Innkeeper came barreling through the door.
“Welcome to Thompson - oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt!” she said, suddenly noticing our intimate embrace.
Taking everything in stride, Logan gave me a quick wink, “No apologies necessary, Ms. Thompson.” Logan politely responded, turning to face our host, but keeping his hand firmly secured around my waist. I was so glad he was the one speaking at that moment because he was obviously the more mature one. I wanted to scream “Go away!” so we could go back to the kiss she interrupted.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Logan and this lovely woman is Clare. We very much appreciate your hospitality this evening.”
Ms. Thompson, an older woman who reminded me of my grandmother fell instantly under Logan’s spell the moment he spoke and was practically swooning. Her eyes were roaming all over my date. I held back the laugh that was currently lodged in my throat. I had to give the old woman credit though, she had good taste. “Well, why don’t you two come on in, and we’ll get you all set for your garden tour?” Ms. Thompson suggested brightly, leading the way into the expansive house.
The interior of the house was just as stunning as I knew it would be. I couldn’t help but run my hands over the hand-carved banister, or brush my fingers along the antique furnishings. The family had done an amazing job of keeping everything maintained and the history preserved. There wasn’t a single modern looking item in view. It was as if you had stepped back in time. Ms. Thompson assured us that the house was equipped with all the modern conveniences, but they had made sure with each upgrade that the integrity of the house was maintained.
Ms. Thompson wasn’t giving us an official tour of the house until later, but I still found myself stopping at least a dozen times as we made our way through the halls to admire one thing or another. Being the ever gracious host, Ms. Thompson entertained my curiosity with interesting tidbits and facts from her family’s history. Logan must have enjoyed history himself because he stood with me, listening intently to every word and even asking questions of his own.
We finally made our way to the main parlor, a large room with antique sofas and family portraits hung on the walls. There was a large picnic basket set on a coffee table with a neatly folded blanket set to the side. A single red rose sat on top of the blanket.
“Wow! What is this?” I exclaimed.
“Well, I wanted you to have something special on your tour of the gardens, so I packed you a little something.” This was a “little something”? What did the woman consider a meal? Logan might have to use a wheelbarrow to get me out of here.
She grabbed the large wicker basket and blanket and handed it to Logan. She offered Logan the rose and a wink and pushed us toward the front of the house.
“Now off you go! I’ve got a meal to prepare! Enjoy!” she commanded sweetly as she walked in the opposite direction, humming softly to herself.
Logan took the perfect red rose and handed it to me, never breaking eye contact until he reached over to kiss me softly on the cheek. I bit my lip in a vain attempt to keep the blush from creeping up my face. With a quick wink, he adjusted the basket to his right hand and grabbed mine with his left and we head for the door. Since that moment on the porch when we almost kissed, he hadn’t stopped touching me. As we walked through the house with our host earlier, his hand sought out mine, or he’d wind his hand around my waist. It was like he was making sure I was still there and I didn’t want him to stop.
Walking back outside, we took a left, intent on the larger of the two gardens. Ms. Thompson said this was the better of the two and perfect for a late day picnic. I personally didn’t know how you could choose a favorite, but I wasn’t a gardener. Anyone who could keep a flower alive was a genius in my book.
The late day sun felt warm against my skin as we began our stroll down the garden path, meandering through arched trellises and flowering trees. Looking over at Logan as he carried the large basket and had the blanket tucked under his arm, I chuckled.
“You sure you can handle that heavy basket all by yourself, Logan?” He insisted on carrying everything, and I carried only the red single rose. Sometime male chivalry is dumb.
“You wound me, Clare.” He moaned in mock pain, gesturing to his heart with our joined hands.
I giggled, “Ahh, poor Logan. Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need a lollipop? Maddie always likes suckers when she’s upset.” I preferred chocolate. Lollipops did nothing for me.
Looking mischievous, he said, “No sucker, thanks. But I can think of something else to lick that would make me a great deal happier.”
“Perv!” I yelled, playfully hitting him on the shoulder with my free hand.
“You walked right into that one, and I wasn’t lying,” he laughed.
“You would think with a best friend like Leah I would have learned not to say things like that by now!” I huffed, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably due to the grin I couldn’t seem to shake.
“No, please don’t. I am a huge fan of your oblivious dirty talk.”
“I do not talk dirty!” I cried.
“We’ll see,” he said, no longer joking. Those two little words held promise and possibility and I took an audible gulp as my mind started racing with indecent thoughts. Okay, yes. I did have a dirty mind. Sue me.
“Is here a good spot for our picnic?” Logan asked, pointing to a bright open space located underneath a flowering dogwood tree.
“What? Oh! Yes!” I babbled, realizing I’d been so completely engrossed in my Logan fantasy world I had barely noticed we had already been through half the garden by now. Weren’t women supposed to be able to multi-task? Apparently only ones who were getting regularly laid.
Logan spread out the blanket and we both began unpacking the overflowing basket, settling ourselves Indian style across from each other on the large blanket. When Ms. Thompson said she packed “a few things” she was being a bit modest. Inside the basket there was a large array of fruit, cheeses, breads and crackers. The sugar addict in me also noticed the cookies, brownies and....jelly beans? I looked up at Logan and he just smiled. She also gave us a bottle of chilled white wine, a corkscrew and wine glasses. It was a feast, and this was only our appetizer.
“This is, wow. Amazing. How did you set this up? And don’t think I haven’t noticed we are the only ones here,” I said. I was very curious how he managed to empty out a six bedroom inn on a Saturday.
“I wanted our first date to be about us. No busy restaurant or crowded streets. We can do all of that later, but today I just wanted to be about you and me. It’s amazing what a bit of money and a lot of charm can do. And I have that,” he grinned. “Plus Ms. Thompson’s a bit of a romantic, so it didn’t take much to twist her arm,” he added.
“It’s lovely Logan. Every part of it. Thank you.”
“Well it isn’t over, so don’t give me a perfect score yet. There’s still time. I could still completely f*ck it up!” he joked.
“Even so, I think it’d still go down as the best first date ever,” I confessed.
His eyes flashed up to mine quickly in surprise, and then I realized what I just said. This wasn’t a simple first date for him, I realized. He must constantly be wondering what or who I’m thinking about. I wondered if he feared he’d never measure up. If he thought he would constantly come in second place to a ghost. I wanted to ask him and then soothe his fears because it wasn’t what I was thinking at all. But not here. Not on our first date, in this beautiful garden, when everything is so perfect. So, instead of using words, I did the only other thing I could, I showed him. Leaning forward on my hands, I gently placed my lips on his. He groaned at the contact, and all of a sudden his control snapped. He snaked his arm around my waist and hauled me onto his lap. Tilting my head to the side, he deepened the kiss and plunged his tongue inside, consuming me. With my legs wrapped around his torso, I felt him hard and ready between our bodies and I instinctively ground against him. I was completely lost in him, and the world disappeared.
“Stop, ah f*ck. We’ve got to stop,” he gasped, desperately trying to catch his breath as he leaned his forehead against mine.
“Why?” I breathed, still stuck in my lust haze.
“Cause if we don’t, I’m going to take you here right in the middle of this garden. And that’s not the way I want our first time to go.”
“You’ve thought about our first time?”
“Jesus, Clare. I think it’s been the number one thing on my mind since the moment I walked into that exam room. It’s a wonder I can even function at work,” he admitted.
I giggled, my body shaking slightly which caused him to wince.
“Okay, you on top of me? Not helping my resolve. I’m starting to reconsider,” he groaned as his eyes roamed up and down my body.
“F*ck,” he cursed and promptly picked me up at the waist, sitting me down next to him.
I giggled again. I really shouldn’t have, but I did find it kind of humorous.
Call me crazy.
“So, our first time, what’s it like in your head?” I questioned him.
“You want me to describe it, Clare? I’m not sure how that’s going to help my current situation.”
Distracting himself, Logan picked up a bunch of grapes and began popping them into his mouth, one at a time. I mimicked him, taking my own bunch of grapes from the giant basket in front of us. Apparently we both need a bit of a distraction.
“Well, yeah, if I play a starring role, I’d like to know about it. And what makes you think there will be a first time?” I teased.
“Woman, you’re trying to kill me, and really? After that? I’m quite positive we’d be in the middle of our first time right now if I hadn’t put the brakes on,” he boasted, giving me a cocky stare which caused me to blush. Saving me any further embarrassment, he continued, “I don’t have an entire scene planned out or anything, but I am a guy. I can’t help but imagine you spread out, like a feast before me, allowing me to take you in every way imaginable.”
Oh God. Can’t breathe.
“Look. I haven’t had the best track record since my divorce. I’ve been labeled a lot of things, and for the most part I’ve earned them all,” he admitted, his voice full of regret.
“I want a clean slate with you, Clare. You’re special to me. I don’t know what we’re doing or where it’s going but I’ve never felt anything like this, and I can’t mess that up by doing the same shit I’ve always done.”
I was speechless. I don’t think I had ever been so turned on from a man telling me why he didn’t want to have sex with me before. Forgetting myself, I leaned over again and kissed him, pulling his body to mine. He came willingly, and we ended up right where we were minutes ago, devouring each other with fiery frenzy. In our fervor, he pushed me down to the blanket, and I felt his hard body on top of mine. His hands slid up my leg and slipped under my dress to grab my ass. He groaned in surprise when his hands touch nothing but fleshy backside thanks to the thong Leah talked me into. God, his groan was sexy.
“Dammit Clare, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he whispered, scattering kisses down my neck and shoulder.
He sighed, his eyes taking one last lingering glance at my body before saying, “We need to get back to the house before I say f*ck it and just f*ck you.”
Damn.
~Logan~
Somehow we made it back to the house. I couldn’t remember the actual trip and I think I may have cried or at least whimpered a little along the way.
I might not survive Clare. She was truly my ultimate temptation. I never wanted anything more and yet fought so hard against it. But I knew I needed this. I knew she needed this. I had to start this off right. She deserved it, she deserved everything.
I had planned this quiet date so we could get to know each other more. Our phone calls and texting had done a fairly good job so far, but I was selfish and wanted her to myself for the entire day.
This, however, was not how I envisioned the day going. Not that I was complaining.
No, definitely not complaining.
But Christ, she was a widow. She hadn’t touched a man in over three years. I had planned on being careful, conservative and sensitive. What I had not planned on was her kissing me, followed by us nearly ripping each other’s clothes off in the middle of an old woman’s garden.
Clare was quick with words and comebacks and we had a great time joking with each other. But while she was bold with words, she was timid with physical contact, blushing at the mere mention of something dirty. I understood that considering her circumstances. Her husband had died and in the last three years she had been a mother only. I think some part of her had forgotten how to touch a man, and in a way, made her innocent again. As happy as I was to be the man to show her again, I understood I had to go slow. What I hadn’t counted on was her gaining the courage to make a move so bold, so soon. When she leaned over on her hands and knees and kissed me under that giant dogwood in the garden, I lost myself.
“What are you smiling about?” Clare asked as we approached the front door to the house.
“Mmm...Not telling,” I teased.
“Well, that’s not fair,” she pouted, folding her hands over her chest in mock indifference.
I stopped just inside the beautiful white house and turned, looking into those piercing green eyes of hers.
“You. I’m smiling because of you. You’ve taught me to smile again.” I didn’t think I would ever have anything to smile about again. Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t f*ck it up and lose her.
She looked at me, stunned. Shit, did I go too far? Say too much, too soon?
“Thank you,” she whispered, gently rising on her toes to kiss me.
“No, thank you.”
The house tour Ms. Thompson gave us was outstanding and I loved seeing Clare so animated and full of life as she asked questions and made discoveries in each new room. Built before the Civil War, the house had quite an extensive history, and Ms. Thompson, a direct descendant of the original owners, knew it all. With each new room she had a new story to share including stories about her own family which included four children and twelve grandchildren.
I glanced over at Clare, who was currently looking out the window in the ornately decorated dining room, which showcased much of the gardens we’d been in earlier. I wondered if she was remembering our picnic because I know I certainly was. She looked over her shoulder at me and blushed, quickly looking away. I guess that answered my question.
Our host came in carrying yet another covered silver dish and set it down on the large table.
“Ms. Thompson, do you know if we are supposed to get a storm?” Clare asked, still looking out the window, but her gaze had shifted upwards toward the sky.
I joined her at the window, looking up and noticed the sky was turning black.
“I believe the weatherman said there was a slight possibility of a thunderstorm, but its only late April, so I wouldn’t worry,” she replied as she set up the table for our meal.
Clare nodded her head in agreement but took one last look up at the clouds again. They did look ominous. And if there was one thing I had learned in the short years I’d lived here, Virginia weather was unpredictable.
I rested my hand on her waist, pulling her to my chest, loving the feel of her there against my body.
“Let’s eat. If a storm comes we can always drive home after it passes,” I reassured her.
Letting out a breath, she nodded. Her smile and the light mood from earlier returned.
“You’re right, I’m sure I’m worrying for nothing.”
Ms. Thompson finished up and made herself scarce. We seated ourselves at the table, looking at all the prepared food. The table was covered, with barely an inch of wood showing due to the massive amounts dishes and platters covering the surface.
“Did she know it would be just the two of us?” Clare asked, her eyes surveying the table.
I laughed, “Yes, but I don’t think she remembers how to cook for two people anymore. Plus I think she might have a crush on me.”
“Oh, she definitely does. I caught her giving you a once over on the porch when we arrived, and I saw her checking out your ass when we went upstairs a bit ago,” Clare quipped, completely amused.
“That’s one randy old lady, I’ll give her that,” I added, not exactly sure how I feel about a Grandma checking out my ass.
“Well, at least she has good taste...but if she gets handsy, I may have to bitch slap her.”
“Defending my honor, huh? That’s kinda hot. Well, minus the Granny part,” I added.
She gave me one last amused look before we began our meal. Ms. Thompson might be one of the best cooks I’d ever encountered. She had taken southern cooking to a whole new level, creating modern dishes with a down home feel. No wonder her Bed and Breakfast is one of the best in the country.
I heard Clare moan as she took her first bite of the pork loin smothered in a cranberry and peach chutney.
“Oh my God, we’re taking this woman back with us. Go find a bat. I’ll get the duct tape,” Clare declared, taking another bite.
I laughed. It really was good.
We dined on pork loin and ratatouille, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus, and baskets of bread. It was divine.
Around our second glass of wine, the rain started. One thing I loved about Virginia was the rain. It could be sunny one minute, and pouring the next.
Right now the rain was coming down in sheets, beating against the roof and rattling the windows. The sun had long since passed and the deafening sound combined with the darkness outside made it feel like we are the only two people in the world.
“Tell me about your wife,” Clare requested, completely catching me off guard.
“Of all the things we can discuss on our first date, you want to talk about my ex-wife?”
“She was a part of your life and a part of you. I want to know everything about you.” She paused and gently reached her hand across the table for mine. Our fingers touched and became entwined together.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to if you’re not ready.”
“No, Clare. It’s not that. It’s painful, yes. But not in the way you’re thinking. I’m worried that after I tell you about her, you’ll look at me differently.”
Like the cold-hearted bastard I am.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. No bullshit, remember?” she reminded me, giving me an encouraging smile.
“What do you want to know?” I sighed, not wanting to have this conversation but knowing she needed to know me, even the ugly sides of me, if we were going to continue.
“Everything. Anything? Whatever you want to tell me.”
I want to tell her nothing, because I’m a coward, but I knew I couldn’t do that. So I decided to start at the beginning.
“I met Melanie when I was in med school. She was attending Harvard for her undergraduate work in economics and psychology. She was beautiful and cultured. She came from a wealthy family, but she wasn’t the least bit pretentious, and she had all these lofty notions that she was going to change the world. She wanted to visit third-world countries and would spend hours telling me about her dreams and aspirations. For a young man who had been told what to do for his entire life, she was fascinating. I asked her to marry me as soon as she graduated.”
I paused, not wanting to continue, afraid she would hate me for what I was about to say.
“My life was crazy during med school but it became insane during my residency. Being newly married and a newly practicing doctor was like mixing oil and vinegar. I was never home, and I quickly realized I didn’t want to be. When I was home for long periods of time I just mentally checked out. And she knew it. I didn’t love her, and I never had. I confused fascination for love, not knowing the difference. I think I was so enthralled by the idea of being loved that I took something I shouldn’t have, without thought for the consequences. Melanie had loved me from day one, and I couldn't give her a damn thing in return. What’s worse is I kept her, hoping I’d someday start to feel something, anything. But all I ever felt was guilt.”
Unable to look at Clare, I stared out the window while I made my confession. I watched the rain slam against the window, unable to look her in the eyes because I was so afraid her face would be filled with disgust. Would she leave now that she knew I was incapable of loving someone? I finally looked at her and found her looking at me with something entirely unexpected.
Compassion.
“Is it so horrible to want to be loved, Logan?” she asked.
“No. But chaining someone into a marriage just to have it? That’s unforgivable,” I insisted.
“When you married Melanie and said your vows, did you believe you were in love with her?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
“You can’t blame yourself for this, Logan. Wanting to be loved so desperately is not a crime,” she assured me, holding my hand firmly in hers. Her hand felt so soft and delicate in my own.
“Is that why she cheated?”
I nodded, adding “I don’t blame her. I kept her in a loveless marriage, and I was never there.”
“Did you know him?” she inquired.
Clearly, she still hadn’t looked me up because this particular part was a media favorite.
“Yes. He was one of my best friends, Gabe. He’d been at Harvard the same time as Melanie and me, studying law. He moved to New York to pursue his dream of working in the projects. We always used to give him shit for going to Harvard on his Daddy’s dime to earn a law degree he planned on using for pro bono work. But, he was exactly like Melanie. He wanted to change the world. She volunteered to help in his office doing light administrative work a few hours a week. I hardly paid attention when she told me,” I admitted.
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably.
“How long before you found out?” she asked.
“Six months. My wife had been sleeping with one of my best friends for six months and I didn’t even notice,” I confessed. I had been so involved in my own thoughts, and my own world, I had actually stopped paying attention to her. So much so that she carried on a six month affair and I had no clue.
“I’m sorry Logan, it must have been painful.”
It was, but not for the reasons she was thinking.
“Looking back now, I can see it. Melanie and Gabe are perfect for each other. They’re running that law firm together now. She provides counseling and he gives legal support. Colin told me they’re expecting their first child this fall. And honestly, I’m happy for them, for her. She deserves it, all of it.”
“You deserve it too,” she said softly, tracing my palm with her fingers.
“Thank you.”
“So...I saw Ms. Thompson set up a ton of desserts in the other room. If we don’t go over there soon I’m going to get cranky, and I’m not nearly as cute when I’m cranky,” Clare announced, lightening the mood with her addiction to sweets.
I couldn’t help but laugh, thankful we were done with the heavy conversation for the moment. I was also relieved she was still looking at me the same way. I didn’t deserve it, but I’d still take her anyway.
“Okay, let’s go!” I exclaimed, rising to follow a quickly moving Clare to the parlor. She was already eyeing the massive display of desserts and squealing with delight.
“This woman is insane! There’s enough dessert here to feed an army!” she cried, zeroing in on the chocolate covered strawberries and profiteroles before noticing the best part.
“Oh my God, she made Tiramisu! Did you tell her to do this?” she asked before turning to look at me.
I just grinned in answer.
“Of course you did.” She sauntered over to me, swaying her hips, before reaching out a hand to grab mine.
“Thank you. This has been the perfect date. You’re amazing”
Just then, a huge clap of thunder shook the house, followed by a flash. Clare screamed, closing the distance between us to rush into my arms, just as the power went out.
Well, so much for perfection.