I dressed carefully after a long shower that did nothing to soothe away the tension that had taken up residence in my shoulders. I wanted to make a good impression on Harrison’s family. So I began at the basics, using an expensive, perfumed lotion Susan gave me for Christmas some time back. Then I dug out the makeup kit that I put aside when I came home from New York and rarely touched again. Who needs to wear makeup while slaving over cakes and donuts and cupcakes? Then I piled my hair on top of my head in a simple French knot with small curls framing my face. Another trick I learned in New York for all the dinner parties and charity balls my job had required me to attend.
I convinced myself that I no longer missed New York. But standing in the bathroom staring at this other person in the mirror reminded me of how much I’d hated the prep but loved the results.
In the bedroom, I slid the dress I’d chosen from its hanger, my fingers sliding through the silky material with anticipation. I remembered buying this dress, how it’d hurt to part with the money, but how perfect it felt the first time I put it on. That was four years ago. The dress was sadly out of fashion now. But it still looked perfect hanging from my curves. It was red with a sweetheart bodice, a high waist, and a flirty skirt that ended at my knees in the front and a few inches above my ankles in the back. I slid on a pair of black pumps and smiled at the finished product.
I still cleaned up pretty well.
I grabbed the black shawl I’d also thought to bring and stepped out into the hallway. I hadn’t realized that Harrison was home. When I came upstairs, he was still at the office. But there he was, stepping out of the double doors at the end of the hallway dressed in a suit that hung just perfectly from those broad shoulders and slender hips. My knees went weak for just an instant as I watched him, unaware of me for the moment, moving with more grace than a man should be allowed.
And then he looked up and our eyes met. Those words he spoke to me that day in the hotel brushed through my mind…
You’re the only woman I want.
…and my belly began to tighten and quiver all at the same time.
“Hey,” he said, coming toward me as his eyes moved slowly over the length of me. “You look…amazing.”
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
I meant it as a little tease, but it came out so breathlessly that I think he could tell exactly where my thoughts were going because he slid his hand over my upper arm and drew me close to him, his other hand snaking around my waist. His lips were on mine in an instant. I moved close to him, sliding my fingers into the hair that barely brushed the collar of his shirt. His mouth was cold and minty, the product of a recent tooth brushing. But it warmed up quickly, the mint an added tingle on the tip of my tongue as I explored just as intently as he did.
But then he was pulling away, clearing his throat as he did.
“We should probably go see if JT needs any help.”
“Oh. Of course,” I mumbled, caught a little off guard by his abrupt movement.
He pressed his hand to the small of my back and pushed me gently toward the stairs. I moved away from his touch as soon as we headed down, my head spinning with thoughts I didn’t want to entertain floating through my mind. Like, why did he kiss me like that if he didn’t want to be with me? And, why did he keep pulling me close only to push me away?
JT was already in the living room when we entered, dressed in a suit I didn’t recognize. By some miracle, he’d managed to get the pants on without have to cut a slit in them, which was pretty impressive since he’d need a whole new wardrobe of jeans when the cast came off. His tie was a little askew, but somehow it worked on JT.
“It’s about time,” he announced as we walked into the sitting room. “I’ve been ready for like hours.”
“I doubt it’s been hours since you were still playing video games when I went up,” I said, brushing a piece of hair off his forehead. “You look handsome, though.”
“Thanks,” he said, pushing the hair back down on his forehead.
Harrison chuckled.
We left a moment later, Harrison helping JT into the car and stowing his chair in the trunk. It was a fairly short drive. His mother’s house was just a few miles from his, situation lower on the same hill.
“I grew up here,” he said over his shoulder to JT. “My father bought this house when my brother was ten and I was five, so it’s really the only home I remember.”
“Cool,” JT said, his go to word for just about every situation.
“It was originally just a three bedroom colonial, but he added on to it over the years. And my mother had it renovated a few years ago.”
“Cool,” JT repeated.
“You’ve lived here all your life?” I asked.
“Except for the few years I spent at Stanford, yeah.”