Love Love (23 page)

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Authors: Beth Michele

Tags: #romance, #adult contemporary, #romance adult, #steamy adult, #adult contemporary romance, #steamy contemporary romance, #steamy new adult romance, #romance adult contemporary

BOOK: Love Love
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The doorbell rings and startles me
from my wandering mind. I open the door and the moment I see him I
relax. A huge, bashful smile spreads across his face. He’s so damn
handsome. His silky hair is still wet from a shower and he looks
great in dark jeans and a cream long-sleeved shirt.

From the way he’s gazing at me, I can
tell he likes the view. “You look beautiful,” he says with genuine
appreciation, chocolate brown eyes smiling at me.

I fiddle with my belt loops. “You look
pretty stunning yourself.”

He blushes and brings his hand down
gently to lace his fingers through mine. “I couldn’t wait to see
you tonight.”

My pale skin turns pink and I smile.
“So where are we going?”

He grins mischievously. “You’ll have
to wait and see.”

When we get down to street level, I
see a car sitting at the curb. Who owns a freaking car in the city?
Well, I guess Brad does. It’s a grey Audi S4, with the license
plate “WE BREW” on the back. Cute. I figure whatever it is we’re
doing, we’re most likely leaving the city to do it. I’m kind of
excited, I haven’t left the city that much since we moved
here.

An air of confidence proceeds him as
he opens my door. “I can see the wheels spinning up there, Gabby,
but trust me you won’t figure it out.”


Don’t be so sure. I have
special powers as well.”


Really?” he says with
raised eyebrows.

I wish it was x-ray vision. “Remember?
I’m indecisive. I’m also pretty persistent. If I wanted, I could
coax that secret right out of you.”

When we’re buckled in, Brad turns to
me. “So what kind of music do you want to listen to?”

Keep surprising me. “I like all kinds
of music. Alternative rock, jazz, blues, r&b. Oooh, do you have
any Lifehouse?”

Brad grins, clicks the CD
and I hear the croon of a guitar and then John Mayer’s voice.
Another one of my favorites. Looking out the window, watching all
the buildings go by in flecks of light, my face forms a hopeful
smile. Brad reaches across the seat and places his hand in mine.
His skin is warm and soft; it feels good. I notice he’s wearing the
bracelet I gave him and it makes me smile. My bracelet’s also
hugging my wrist, and I roll my fingers over the words
celebrate courage
. Maybe
I need to
find
mine.

We sit quietly until Brad breaks the
silence. “Do you want to play I Spy?”

Nearly breaking out into a fit of
laughter, I shoot back, “I Spy? I haven’t played that since I was a
kid.”


You scared?” He tries to
look intimidating, but it’s a lost cause. He’s too darn
cute.


Nope, I’m not afraid of
anything. ” At least not right now.

Brad starts “I spy with my little eye
something that is white and bright.”


That’s easy,” I respond.
“The moon.”


You’re good at this,” he
chuckles.


My turn,” I call out
excitedly. “I spy with my little eye something that is tall and
pointed with bright lights.”

Deep in thought, he thrums his index
finger against his mouth, and guesses, “The Toys ‘R’ Us
store?”

I make a loud beeping noise. “Sorry,
but thanks for playing.”


I give up,” he says,
sounding a bit defeated.


You give up? You only
guessed once!”

He lets out that loud throaty laugh.
“What can I say? I have a low tolerance for games. Back to
me!”

He’s staring straight ahead, but I
feel his eyes on me. I like the way it feels.


I spy with my little eye,
something that is so beautiful, it leaves me
breathless.”

Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath
and answer, “Trump Towers?” When I turn my head to look at him, I
see serious brown eyes staring back at me.


Nope...you.”

His words melt my heart. Pulling my
hand to his lips, he softly kisses the inside of my palm, and I
feel those familiar goosebumps multiply. I don’t know what to do
with myself, so I start biting the inside of my lip and fiddling
with the door handle.

When I look around, it appears that
we’re fairly close to Central Park. I still have absolutely no idea
what we’re doing. Brad finds a parking space, grabs my hand, and
leads me toward the park.


Okay, so what are we
doing?”

With a relaxed smile, he says,
“patience, grasshopper.”

I can’t help but laugh and hold up two
fingers. “I’ve got two words for you. Corn and ball.”


That’s three.” His dimple
comes out to say hello.

I playfully flick his arm
with my finger, and he loops his pinky through mine. We make our
way through a clearing in the park and a sign comes into
view.
The Loeb Boathouse.
“What is this place?”

He chuckles. “The word ‘boathouse’
doesn’t give it away?”

I squeeze his arm and he
yelps.


Just come on,” he says,
tugging on my arm, pings of excitement radiating off his
fingers.

The early evening sun is bouncing off
the water, sparkling brilliantly. Wow. As I scan our surroundings,
I notice what appears to be a gondola in a far corner of the water.
I look over at Brad and a squeal of excitement jumps from my mouth
and lands on the ground.

Quietly, and with a look of pride
clinging to his face, he says, “I know it’s not Venice, but it’s
the next best thing.”

Without thinking, I throw my arms
around his neck and hug him. Then I quickly retreat.

Brad’s eyes fill with…something. “We
can come here every day, if you like.” He grins and I let out a
happy giggle.

Reaching the gondola, we’re greeted by
a tall gentleman with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. “Welcome to
the Loeb Boathouse. My name is Andre, and I’ll be your guide this
evening.”

Andre helps me into the gondola, and
Brad follows behind me. We take a seat next to one another; very
close. Brad laces his fingers through mine and a tingle runs
through me. I gaze at his lips, for no special reason other than I
want to kiss them.

As the gondola begins to move through
the water, a peace settles over me and I find myself opening up.
“I’ve always loved the water, ever since I was a child. My family
had a small cottage at the beach and we’d stay for weeks at a time
throughout the summer. It was so much fun. We’d make giant
sandcastles and walk the beach for hours collecting shells.” I can
still feel the sting of the sunburn on my shoulders.


I can just picture you,
those bright blue eyes dancing with excitement, running through the
waves at the beach. You must’ve been a real cutie.”


Let me put it this way.
When I was cast in
The Wizard of Oz
in fourth grade, I was chosen to play a munchkin.
So that should give you some indication. Thankfully, I’m five foot
seven now so I’d qualify for another role.”

Brad squeezes my hand. “Well,
munchkins are quite cute.”


Yeah, okay. You just keep
telling yourself that,” I joke with a wide-eyed smile.

Brad looks out over the water and
seems thoughtful. “My mom and dad had a boat. It was nothing to
write home about, but it didn’t matter. The five of us used to go
out on the water a lot. I remember spending all day on the ocean.
My mom would bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with potato
chips for us, and Matt, Clara and I would crush the potato chips on
our sandwiches. My dad used to say how gross it was, but the three
of us would just laugh and throw potato chips at him.” I see a tiny
tear slide down Brad’s cheek and I reach up with my thumb and catch
it. He turns around and smiles, and it’s like a hotline straight to
my heart. The very thing I’m trying to protect, and at this moment,
I feel weary.

After a gondola ride around the lake,
we make our way inside the restaurant, hand in hand. We’re escorted
to a table, and from every angle there’s an incredibly romantic
view of the lake. While waiting for our food, I delve a bit more
into Brad. He’s my favorite subject these days. “So, what was it
like growing up in Westchester? Pleasantville, right?”

His expression shifts before he
speaks. “Yeah. It was okay; hard at times because I didn’t have
many friends and I got picked on a lot.”


Why?”


I was a gawky kid, a bit
of an oddball actually, and unfortunately, that didn’t make me much
of a friend magnet. Plus, once my mom passed away, everyone saw how
angry and damaged I was, and they didn’t want anything to do with
me.”

I lay my hand over his and give it an
empathetic squeeze. “I know what it’s like to be
damaged.”

Brad raises his eyes to mine. “I don’t
know, Gabby. We’re all damaged, right? It’s what we make of the
wreckage that matters. Anyway, once my dad mentally checked out, I
was lucky that I had Clara and Matt; and my therapist, of course.
Otherwise I probably would’ve ended up in juvie.” What about you?
What was your childhood like?”


Actually, it was great. I
had a lot of friends and tons of fun. Although I always felt that I
was a bit of an oddball too, in the sense of my family.” I pause
and take a breath. “Or, now that I think about it, maybe they just
made me
feel
like
an oddball. Nothing I ever did was good enough, and if my mom and
dad couldn’t understand something about me, they’d chalk it up to
me being strange. I remember one time, I must have been about
fourteen, and Fran and I had gone to the mall with Fran’s mom to
buy some new clothes for school. Fran helped me pick out a new
blouse that was bright and colorful with tiny butterflies. I loved
it the minute I saw it. There’s something about butterflies, you
know,” I say as I stare out at the lake, “they’re free. Anyway, the
next morning when I came down for breakfast, my mother took one
look at the shirt and told me I had to change. She said, ‘you’re
fourteen years old, Gabby, and you’re wearing the shirt of a seven
year old. Go and change. You don’t want people thinking you’re
weird, do you?’ I sat on my bed and cried, then reluctantly put on
another shirt and went to school.”

Brad’s eyes meet mine and I feel a
hand reaching out to touch my heart. “Do you still have the
shirt?”


Yup. I put my butterfly
shirt in a big keepsake box I kept hidden in my closet. No one was
going to take my butterflies away from me.”

Throughout dinner, Brad never lets go
of my hand. When we finish, I look over at him and his eyes are
alight with excitement. It’s most certainly contagious. There’s no
way I’m ready for this date to end. He helps me from the table and
we make our way through the restaurant until we’re outside
again.

Looking over at him with a broad
smile, I quietly ask, “so, what now?”

Brads face beams. “We’re going to Top
of the Rock.”


Top of the Rock? What’s
that?”

His brown eyes grow large. “You live
in New York City and you don’t know what Top of the Rock is?” He
pulls me along. “It’s an Art Deco skyscraper forming the center of
Rockefeller Center, and it’s very cool. I think it’s like 800 feet
above street level. The view is amazing.”

Apparently, it’s about two miles from
the park, but instead of driving, we take a gypsy cab, where you
can negotiate a price and it’s a steal at four dollars. When we get
there, we step onto the elevator and the first thing I notice is a
transparent ceiling leading to the wide open sky. As we rise,
different colored lights are popping all around us. Once we finally
reach the platform, I realize that Brad’s description couldn’t have
been more accurate. I’m rendered utterly speechless. Colored lights
twinkle from various buildings and there’s a clear view of stars
that sprinkle the night sky. There’s the Brooklyn Bridge, the
Empire State Building, Central Park, and the Hudson and East
Rivers. You can see it all. I look over at Brad, who’s waiting on
my reaction. “Wow. It’s just exquisite.”

Brad takes a deep breath. “It is,
isn’t it?”

I lean against him, my back
to his chest, and he rests his chin on my head. I feel a strange
sense of calm. He laces his fingers through mine and we walk around
the platform a bit, enjoying the view, until something catches his
eye. When I look over to see what it is, I notice there’s a plaque
attached to a long piece of rock that reads
This is a good kiss spot
.

Catching me by surprise, Brad grabs me
and pulls me close. He threads his arms around the curve of my
shoulders, causing my heart to pitter-patter wildly and my breath
to come in giant gusts. His breath is blowing on my lips like a
soft breeze as he whispers, “I’ve been wondering something all
night.” My eyes go wide. “Have you ever been kissed by a superhero
before?” My mouth won’t move, so I simply shake my head back and
forth. His eyes are burning up my lips as he breathes, “because
you’ve never been truly kissed until you’ve been kissed by a
superhero.”

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