Iced Romance (20 page)

“You mean like my bucket list?”

“Yeah,” I say. I think I had something to add, but when I look into his blue, blue eyes, I completely lose my train of thought again.

“Hmm, that’s a good one. I guess I’d have to say my number one is to learn a new language, probably Spanish. Languages are really the key to understanding people, and in order to help others, I’m going to need a lot of language skills. I don’t want to learn languages to travel, like most people do, but rather to help people right here in Kissimmee. So many of the people I help through my job speak English as a second language, so a lot of things get lost in translation.

“Then I want to read all the greatest books. TIME magazine put a list together of the one hundred greatest books in the world, and I’d like to read them all. And,” he pauses, searching his mind, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “I’ve always wanted to learn to play guitar. That would be on my list, for sure. Or possibly the piano.” David watches me as he speaks. “And then I’ve got the usual, boring things . . . get married, have a family, be the world’s greatest dad. Teach my kids how to fish.”

His words run over me and feel like a blanket on a cold Edmonton day. Or like a cup of hot chocolate.

They feel safe.

I can’t believe that that’s the word that keeps coming to mind every time I think of David, but it is. And who knew that safety would be such a turn on? I can see David and me, growing old, walking on a beach somewhere, with wrinkles and grey hair, and we’re happy and I still feel safe. Not worried that he’ll leave me, not terrified that he’ll cheat.

“What about you?”

I am jerked back to reality with David’s question. I don’t know, to be honest. I have plans, I’m sure I do. But I’ve never put them into words before. I shrug and pull my legs out of the water, cradling my head on my knees. I have to say something, or he’ll think I’m a loser with no hopes and dreams.

“I want to be happy, that’s my number one,” I finally say. My words are quiet and low, but they mean a great deal to me as I say them. “I want to feel secure and never cry myself to sleep again. To wake up each day and know that I’m in the right place, doing the right thing. I . . . I don’t know. I want the simple life, you know.” I trail off and feel myself blushing again. I don’t think any of that came out coherently.

David puts his hand on my shoulder. His skin is warm from the sunshine and it leaves slight goose bumps along my neck and arm.

“Why aren’t you happy?”

I blink and look out over the swimming pool. “I am happy,” I force a laugh. Crap, why did I have to get all mushy and poetic there. I could have said something like ‘I want to go to Paris’ or something like that that.

“No, really, it’s okay if you tell me. What tangible things would you need to change to get to this spot in your life?”

Leave it to David to try and make things into solid, concrete ideas. I shrug and look away. “I don’t know. I mean, that whole thing came out a little weird. I am happy. Really. And I think I’ll figure the rest out. It just takes time.”

Change the subject.

Before he can comment on that, I shoot him a playful glance. “The other thing on my bucket list is to push a cute boy into a pool, just once.” Then, with all my strength, I shove David sideways. Caught off guard, he teeters on the edge for a split second and then, with a yelp, tumbles into the pool with a splash.

I shriek and cover my head as the water hits me. Then the next second, David has a hand on each of my legs and I’m pulled in beside him.

We laugh and joke and flirt and play, trying to mimic the alligators at Gatorland by leaping out of the water, pretending to go for that elusive dangling chicken. After about thirty minutes we climb out and relax on the lawn chairs, letting the sunshine dry our shivering bodies.

My eyes are closed and I know I’m smiling as I lie there. I’m dry now, my body is warm, and I’m feeling a little groggy, like I could fall asleep.

“Kennedy?”

David’s voice is a low murmur. I open my eyes a crack and look sideways at him. He is on his side, facing me.

“Yeah?”

“You’re beautiful, you know that? I could lie here and watch you for hours.”

I feel a warmth that is completely unrelated to the sunshine spread over me and my face splits into a wide grin. “Thanks, you’re pretty darn attractive yourself, mister.”

David leans over and takes me by the hand. Then, pulling me in toward him with deliberate forcefulness, he kisses the back of my hand then moves up my arm. My body is tingling, my arm is as sensitive as if it had just experienced third degree burns. Then his lips find my own and the weight of his body comes down on my chest. I wrap my hands around his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair, kissing him back.

And everything is perfect.

When we finish a while later, David goes into the house and brings out a tub of ice cream. “Oh, cookie dough, my favorite!” I feel my stomach rumble.

“I figured we’d start with dessert, if that works for you.” David hands me a spoon. “I’m planning on making you some of my delicious barbeque ribs, but they have to marinate for another little while before I can cook them. I also bought some tofu that I can try to figure out how to cook if you are back on your vegetarian diet.” His mouth twists when he says tofu, and it makes me think that he’s probably never eaten any before. Or seen it.

“Barbeque tofu?” I try to imagine how that would taste. “Tofu isn’t bad, for the record. And that’s sweet of you to have bought it especially for me. Don’t worry though, I think I’m back to being a carnivore, at least for the time being.”

David nods and pries the lid off the ice cream. “Excellent. That sounds good. So since we have about an hour left before we can eat the ribs, do you think this ice cream will satisfy you for the next little while?”

“Absolutely,” I say. David grabs his own spoon and we dig in. No bowls, no cones, just two people and a tub of ice cream. Life does not get any better than this.

The rest of the day passes quickly. The ribs are succulent, sweet but with a bit of a bite to them. We go walking down by the lake, watch a beautiful sunset, and then, at just after nine, David drives me back to my apartment.

We walk up the sidewalk, hand in hand, our footsteps becoming shorter in an unconscious attempt to delay the inevitable of our separation. As we pass the dumpster, however, we hear a loud crash. The mood is ruined. I jump, terrified.

“What was that?” I whisper, visions of rapists and murderers and drug related shootings running through my head.

“I don’t know.” David sounds curious. “Maybe a cat or something got into the trash.” He walks toward the dumpster and the piles of bags that have been dumped beside the overflowing bin.

“Eh, anyone there?” David calls. He kicks the closest garbage bag and a second later a large, grayish white . . . thing . . . scurries out and around the side of the dumpster. It has a long, thin tail and is the most disgusting rodent I have ever seen.

“Oh my heck, is that a rat?” I squeal, clapping a hand to my mouth. I bite nervously on a fingernail, (I really need to get that manicure!) and look around to make sure there is nothing else nearby.

“Nope, that, my dear, was a possum.” David steps around the bin and stares into the darkness, checking to see where the creature went.

“A possum? Really? The only possum I’ve ever seen was in a kid’s book I read in second grade. Something about a mother possum hanging upside down and her baby possums falling out of her pouch and having to find their way home.”

David chuckles and comes back to my side. He takes my hand and presses his lips to the top of my head. “You’re adorable. And yes, that was a real possum. I haven’t seen one for years.”

We walk the rest of the way to my apartment and I unlock the door. Taking one step inside, I turn back to David. “Thanks for today. That was wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.”

And then his arms are around me and we’re kissing again. I open my eyes and smile at him.

“Are you working tomorrow?” he asks softly, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear.

“Yes, but not until eleven,” I reply, not wanting to let him see the spark of hope I know has appeared in my eyes. Will he ask to see me again?

“You want to come running with me tomorrow morning? I’ll come get you bright and early and I’ll have you back in plenty of time so you can get ready for work. What do you say?”

“Running?” Do I want to run? I used to run with Emily sometimes. I enjoyed it too, for the most part. Something about feeling my body being stretched to what I think is my limit and then managing to go beyond that always made me happy.

And plus, it would mean more time with David.

“I’d love to.”

And with a final kiss goodnight, David heads back toward his waiting truck. I watch him go until his headlights have faded into the darkness. Only then do I close the door and collapse into bed for a deep, dreamless slumber.

I jump, a little startled. I hadn’t heard him coming up the walk toward me. I hope he hadn’t seen me preening in my reflection. “Hi!”

He holds out his arms and I give him a hug. “Wow, bristly.” I run my hand over the stubble that has materialized on his chin and cheeks since last night and laugh. “It’s a good look on you. Rugged, sexy, that whole thing.”

He grimaces with mock sobriety. “It makes me look homeless. I can’t believe I’m letting you see this side of me already. Must mean I like you.”

My whole body feels light, wanting to float away at those words. Must mean he likes me, I repeat in my mind.

“I have to admit,” David continues, beginning to walk back down the sidewalk to the main road. “I’m glad to see you awake this early. After everything you’d told me about how much you like your sleep, I thought for sure I’d be knocking down your door trying to wake you up.”

I fall into step with him and when we reach the road, we begin jogging, keeping pace with each other, the rhythm of our bodies moving in sync with the other.

“I actually set two alarms,” I admit sheepishly, my words coming choppily as we run. “I put one in the bathroom so that when I turned off the one by my bed, the other would go off a minute later and make me get out of bed in order to shut it off.”

We turn a corner and head down a slight hill, near a swamp. “Is it true that alligators live in all water here?” I had heard some tourists talking about it in the restaurant a few days ago and had been meaning to ask.

“Sure is. At least, that’s what people reckon.” David doesn’t sound remotely out of breath. I increase my speed, hoping that David will start breathing as heavily as I am.

“It’s nice having a running partner,” David says after a bit of a pause. “I’m impressed. You’re keeping a good pace.”

A flicker of triumph ignites in my heart. I like having him proud of me. “I like running. It makes me forget all my issues.” I wipe a trickle of sweat that is working its way down my forehead and smear it on my jogging pants without breaking stride.

The smell of sweat takes me back. Me and Todd, in the beginning, would work out together kind of like this. He would spot for me on the weight machines at our local gym and laugh when I could only lift the ten pound weights. That was before he got super famous, before he was in demand all over. The last few years he’s been much too busy to exercise with me, but the image of the early days is burned into my mind.

“. . . and at least I knew that I was in the right place.”

David has been talking. Focus, Kennedy, focus. I make a non-committal grunt and force myself back into the present.

“That’s cool.” Each word comes out with a breath. I wonder how long we’ve been running. It feels like at least twenty minutes already. My legs are burning. Although, to be fair, I haven’t had a good workout since I came to Florida, so it probably hasn’t been that long.

There is a long pause while we just run, not saying anything. Then, out of nowhere, David breaks the silence.