Love Undefeated (Unexpected #5) (25 page)

My breath was caught in a gasp as I continued to admire the bounty of colors in front of me. He’d stepped aside, his hand tucked in my waist as I took in the gorgeous bouquets.

“Xavier this–” My hand gesturing to the beauties in front of me, “is too much.”

He shook his head, his hand trailing my spine, producing a trail of frisson down my body as he rubbed up and down with gentle strokes.

“Nothing is too much for you, Nales,” his low whisper vibrated through my ears. “As long as you’re happy, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

I wanted to turn back time. To when everything was easier. Before everything changed.

I slowly removed myself from his side hold and turned to see the clarity in his eyes, the sure set of his jaw, and the tiny fine hairs on his chin. “I’m happy. Very happy.”

He pressed his lips to mine softly, “We should go before I decide to cancel everything and just continue this into the bedroom.”

“Really?” I was teasing.

“Nales, I’m giving you ten seconds to move your butt away from me…” with his tongue swiping at my lips, “We gotta get outta here before…Nales,
go
.”

I heeded his advice and rushed into my bedroom, reapplied my sheer nude lipstick, decided my outfit was great without the earrings so I left them on top of my dresser, grabbed my purse, and headed out.

The excitement of the evening hung thick in the air as I eyed Xavier meticulously arranging the flowers and their vases on my kitchen counter. His mouth was turned upwards when he touched the hydrangeas and smelled them.

“Now I know how they manufacture your perfume, Nales.” His smile grew in size, his expression brightened in a way that Ohl would have when he invented the solar cell which paved the way for solar energy.

“These flowers are boiled and steamed and the vapors are put in a bottle, then packaged in a nice little container to preserve the scents,” he replied matter of factly. I was pretty sure that perfumery was more complicated than that.

“But you know what, Nales?” He walked toward me and touched my dark locks with fragility, his eyes burning with equal parts desire and care.

“What?” I said distractedly, checking my oven light from across the room just to make sure I’d turned it off after making a small batch of brownies earlier. The brownies were for Carly who was celebrating her birthday in the office tomorrow instead of with her family since we’d acquired three other large projects.

“There could be millions of women who wear the same perfume that you wear, but I’d be able to tell the difference.”

My eyes flitted back to his form, the casual and sexy look that he projected effortlessly.

He held my hand as we walked the short distance to my door, and just before I punched in the code for the lock, he said, “I’d know it was you even if I were blindfolded in a room and being tortured by a nasty dude with Mafia connections.”

“Mafia?” My eyebrows raised in incredulity, because honestly, how this guy could make up with these scenarios in a couple of minutes would always befuddle me. Plus, how he thought that being blindfolded and tortured was romantic in any way was something that the universe would have no answer for.

“The Russian mafia. Those fuckers are brutal. They make the wanna-be gangsters in the Bay Area look puny.”

“Xavier.” Now we’re talking about gangsters? Oh, Xavier, sometimes I’d hate to be inside his mind. It was probably full of screen shots of my toes and boobs interjected with scenarios of Russian gangs and all sorts of weirdness.

“My point is,” he inhaled, the light crimson in his cheeks deepening as we stepped into the chilly air outside of my building. “I would know you’re in the room, Nales. I would know because you’re the only woman in the world who can make me think of sex when I’m smelling flowers. You’re the only person whose scent is imprinted into me that even from a distance of hundreds of feet, I’d know you’re there.”

“That’s so sweet,” I gushed. Sometimes his reasoning and thinking did not correlate well. Not in the way I or other people would see it. Not in the way he thought things made sense.

He helped me climb into his Range Rover since wearing my high heels made it a challenge to go up that distance.

Before he pushed on the accelerator, he looked over to my side, and in a deep breathy voice, he said, “I’m a lucky, lucky guy.”

The screams of the crowd drowned out the music as Grammy’s Entertainer of the Year finally graced the stage. I could barely hear my voice as I sang to every song of Pharell, one of the big-named guests for Taylor’s concert.

My throat was dry.

My feet were killing me.

My armpits were drenched.

This was single-handedly one of the best moments of my life.

After dinner at Luciano’s, I thought Xavier was going to bring me down by the water for a romantic stroll since he was driving that way. So when he’d left his keys with the valet at the parking lot of the AT & T Park, I had no clue what he was about to do.

We seldom watched sports events unless it was lacrosse.

I wasn’t a big football fan like my friends, Sedona and Tanya. They were actually football converts or fans by default because Zander was a football player and so was John.

Before we entered the stadium, Xavier had asked me to put a blindfold on. He even checked the tightness to see if his fingers could get inside the blindfold, ensuring that all I could see was nothing but blackness.

My ears had picked up on the amplified noises and what seemed like hundreds of people talking. Make that thousands because as soon as he’d removed the velvet material, my eyes popped out of my head. The light show on the stage was magnificent; the anticipation of what was to come was thick among the thousands of people chanting Taylor’s name.

My hands shook as I held Xavier’s hands, he leaned in so I could hear him say, “You like it?”

“This is too much,” I whisper-shouted in his ear. There’s no way you could hear any sound lower than 100 decibels in there. With our seats being that close to the stage, I could hear the crowd everywhere around us and all the sound checks happening in front of us.

“This must’ve cost a fortune.” I knew Xavier grew up without any financial needs. He was an only son to the founder and president of one of San Francisco’s biggest accounting firms. His mother, Cyrene, came from old-money and he’d never wanted for anything. But his money meant nothing to me.

I liked him because he was funny and caring.

I liked him a lot because he made everything look easy; he made me feel as if I could take on the world and not think twice about what my limitations were.

I
loved
him because there was no one else in this world who would try the way he did, the way he continually does…

He’s made a mistake once. A costly one.

He broke my heart and I was still picking up the pieces.

But he was also putting me back together, mending me in a way wherein I called the shots.

“I don’t care, Nales,” he talked against my lips. “I’d bring you to hundreds more if you wanted. Don’t you know how much I love you?”

I kissed his yearning lips in response.

Wining, dining, and now watching a concert of some of the most gifted artists of our generation were great gestures. They made me feel special as I’m sure any other girl would.

If love could be bought, millionaires would be the happiest people in the world.

The love that was slowly building inside of me, making a space in the fortress I’d built to guard the precious organ, was because of the countless times he’d picked me up from work when I’d been so tired to move, the body massages he’d showered on me even when he was exhausted too, and the absolute respect he showed for my grieving process. I know I’d never get over the loss of my daughter and what Xavier had done before that, but maybe it’s about time I moved on.

Taylor was now on stage, wearing a floor-length white gown that matched the mood of the slow ballad she was singing. I knew the lyrics by heart so I sang along with her and the enthusiastic crowd had lit up white candles, adding to Taylor’s heart-tugging performance.

Xavier removed his jacket and wrapped me inside the warmth provided by the silk lining. I rested my head against his chest, savoring the calmness of the moment. It’d been a long time since I’d let loose and freed myself of the morose, negative feelings that dragged me down.

I cocooned myself tighter in his embrace, grasping hold of the lifeline he’s given me throughout the past few months.

Kissing the side of his arm, I decided that it was time to say “yes.”

Yes to taking chances.

Yes to being with him – not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

Yes to letting myself love him again.

The popstar onstage was now singing about second chances. The rapper singing along with her had his pants dragging so low that he was wiping the floor clean. Fireworks sounded off from a distance and Taylor capped the show with a, “Goodnight San Francisco! I had a great time! I hope you did too!”

I did.

My heart took a beating once.

But still it continued
beating
.

Some say, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

I thought I would die from the pain, wither from the anguish of grief while sifting through the remains of a broken heart.

The man behind me was my weakness, but he was also the very source of my strength.

Xavier once said, “Life is all about balance, Nales. You cry, you laugh. You eat, you take a shit.”

I already took tons of shit.

It was time I laughed again.

I closed my eyes to soak in the gravity of the evening. How perfect the night had been.

I’m going to start laughing again.

This time, it wouldn’t be superficial.

It would be coming from deep in my belly, shooting straight into my heart, and breathing life again.

Forgiveness takes time.

It’s a process.

It’s human nature to want to speed things up; the lines at the coffee shop, the droves parked at the gas station, the grind of the daily traffic. You want to just snap your fingers and bam, you’d have your turn.

The events of the past year had taught me that the valuable moments in life take time.