These reminded me of your gorgeous long legs and delicious red lips. And one day, I’d love to see you dressed in nothing but pearls.
Oh my. Is this what it feels like to be romanced? I wouldn’t know, but I think I like it. And it occurs to me that he’s been romancing me all along; the delicious dinner at his house, cuddling on his deck watching the sunset, our amazing picnic lunch yesterday. He was right when he said that he’d made love to me last night. Sex has never been that intimate for me.
But he did lie, even if it was by omission, and that’s a deal breaker for me.
I decide to give him a chance to explain. I’ll go to his house tomorrow and hear him out. I already miss him; his touch, his smile, his belly laugh, the feel of that soft blond hair in my fingers. I desperately want something good to happen with this man, and maybe that’s what scares me most of all, even more than his celebrity status and the fact that he could have any skinny little glamorous woman on the planet.
If things go too much further, he could hurt me.
But the thought of not seeing him again makes my chest ache.
I pull my phone and the front door letter out of my pocket. I fire up the phone and impatiently wait for it to wake up.
Three missed calls, two voice mail and two texts. Nothing from Luke.
Both voice mails are from clients, so I save those and remind myself to call them and the four from this morning back tomorrow.
I scroll down to Luke’s number and hit ‘call’”.
He answers on the first ring.
“Hi,” he says, softly.
“Hi,” I murmur, my eyes closing at the sound of his voice. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers.”
“Do you like them?” I hear his smile.
“They are amazing. And bountiful.” I can’t help but chuckle.
“I thought of you a lot today.”
“Apparently so.”
“Natalie, I’m so sorry…”
“No, Luke,” I interrupt him, the agony in his voice is my undoing. “I’m sorry too. I may have overreacted just a bit.”
“No, I understand. I should have said something yesterday.”
“Yeah, you should have.” I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about this over the phone. Are you busy tomorrow morning?”
“You want to see me tomorrow?” I hear the excitement in his voice and I melt even more.
“Well, I was thinking I could come over to your place and we could talk.”
“Yes. Come now.”
I laugh and turn on my side on the bed, feeling my stomach start to settle for the first time since this morning.
“I’m tired and don’t think I’m up for a long conversation tonight.”
“What did you do today?” he asks.
“Jules and I did some shopping.”
Should I tell him about the movie?
“What did you buy?” God, I love his sexy voice.
“Shoes.”
“You like shoes?”
“I’m a woman. I am desperately, irrevocably in love with shoes.”
“What do the new shoes look like?”
“Red stiletto Louboutins.” I grin as I think about my sexy new shoes.
He whistles. “Wow.”
“Yes, they are wow.” I laugh.
Suddenly it’s quiet and I think I’ve lost the call.
“Luke?”
“Yeah, sorry, I was just imagining you wearing nothing but those shoes and pearls.”
“Wow,” I murmur.
“Yes, it was wow.” His voice is low and I hear his grin and I just want to touch him.
“What else did you do today?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Well, ironically enough, we went to the movies.”
I hear him gasp. “I thought you didn’t watch many movies.”
“I don’t, but I had a rough morning and wanted to forget for a little while, so we overdosed on popcorn and soda and a bare chested Vin Diesel.”
“Was it good?”
“A bare chested Vin Diesel is always good,” I reply haughtily.
“You wound me, Natalie.”
“A bare chested Luke is better,” I whisper.
“That’s better,” he whispers back.
“I like it when you whisper.”
“You do? Why?”
“It’s hot.”
“Really?”
“Very hot.” Oh, I love this flirtiness that we have.
“I’ll remember that.”
I suddenly wish I’d taken him up on his offer to go to his house now, so before I can make an ass of myself and beg, I end the call.
“Nine o’clock tomorrow?” I ask.
“I’ll have breakfast waiting,” he murmurs.
“Good night.”
“Good night, beautiful,” he whispers.
***
I wake to an incessant doorbell. I glance at the alarm clock. Who the hell is ringing my doorbell at seven thirty in the damn morning? I fumble around for yoga pants and a shirt and grumpily trudge down the stairs.
Standing at my door is a young blond girl, maybe sixteen, holding a Starbucks to-go cup and a single red rose.
“Are you Natalie?” she asks with a smile.
“Yes.”
“These are for you.” She’s excited as she pushes them toward me.
“Uh, thanks.” I take them from her, pushing the rose against my nose.
“There’s a note too.” She holds it out to me, and claps her hands. “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my life!”