Secret Delights (Lingerie Series) (4 page)

BOOK: Secret Delights (Lingerie Series)
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“You’re welcome.”

Opening my eyes, I smiled at him.
“Cocky much?”

Arching a brow, he gave me a pointed
look. “Only about the things I do well.”

Can I get a list?
“Well, I’m no slouch when it comes
to my own cooking so try my home fries.”

Digging his fork in, he brought up a
healthy scoop to his mouth. Chewing, he pretended to ponder then gave me a
broad smile. “I was wondering where you were going with the ingredients.
Especially since I’d never seen anyone make sweet potatoes that way, but it is
excellent. Sweet and savory with a perfect tartness from the apples.”

“You’re welcome,” I teased back.

We ate for a few moments, before I
asked, “Tell me, Sloane. How does a six foot…”

“Three.”

Yes
. “…man end up behind a four foot
high desk teaching kindergarteners instead of on someone’s field as a safety.”

He leaned back in his chair and
picked up his wine. “Ah, a woman that knows football, I’m impressed.”

“When you lived with my father and
brother you learned to love all sports. I got tired of being in the kitchen
with my mother making all the snacks while they woofed it down. So, I learned
about sports.” I speared and ate some broccoli.

“You get off snack prep detail?” He
sipped his wine then set it back beside his plate.

“Oh, no. Not in my mother’s house.
She believed every woman needed to know how to cook well. Old fashion views but
smart and sweet.” The thought of my parents made me a little melancholy.

“You miss them a lot I’m sure.” His
hand covered mine, stilling it from fiddling with the stem of my glass.

Glancing at him, I was thankful for
his compassion. With Michael getting sick and Aaren having to return to Charlotte,
I had never felt like anyone was there for me. “I do. They adopted me, of
course. But, loved me like I’d come from them.”

“I recall seeing them sitting beside
you at some of the games. I’m sorry I never had a chance to meet them.”

Taking a deep breath, I let go of
some of the sadness, not wanting to ruin the night. “You always find a way to
get around my questions.”

“But I don’t forget them.” Giving my
hand a quick squeeze, he moved his away. “I believe one was about me being a
teacher and the other had something to do with me being hot.”

I laughed. “Men. You would recall
that small faux pas about your looks.”

“It wasn’t the truth?” He leaned on
his elbow toward me.

Leaning back, I shook my head. “It
was. But, let’s first get back to you and the classroom.”

One of those arresting smiles
appeared on his lips and robbed me of breath.

“Fine. There’s not some grand story.
I continued to play football in high school and got pretty good after arriving
in North Carolina. Especially with my growth spurt. I ended up with a
scholarship in college and working toward some liberal arts degree. My
sophomore year as a safety, I snagged an interception but came down hard on my
shoulder. I busted it up pretty good and could not play the rest of the year
and into the summer.”

“That must have been devastating.” I
never played any sports, but being around my father and my brother I understood
how important that career was to a lot of people. I wanted to return the
compassionate touch he had given me but held back.

He finished eating the vegetable in
his mouth. “It was. I had built this dream around my sport and not really
anything else. But, while recuperating, I started volunteering at this boys'
group home. You know for those boys no one else wanted to deal with. I discovered
that a lot of them were smart, just that society had tagged and given up on
them. Listening to their stories, I learned it started in school and how they
were perceived. It scared me a little when I realized I had a heart for these
kids. All kids.”

He shrugged, but I didn’t think
there was anything nonchalant about his feelings or what he did.

Not wanting to interrupt him, I
waited and ate. I started to really admire this man at my table. He smiled a
lot, was friendly and charismatic, but I felt as if I truly began to see him
now. This man would be a blessing to my son. In the classroom, I reminded
myself.

“I changed my major in my junior
year to Early Childhood Education. I had to still play football to keep up my
scholarship, but I knew that after school was over, I’d much rather work with
giving kids a solid foundation over busting up my body on the turf.”

“A noble choice. I’m sure you took a
lot of flack.”

“Boy did I. My coach and scouts
attempted several times to convince me to enter the draft. I chose not to.
However, every day I walk into a school house and see that first smiling face,
I don’t regret it for a moment.”

“Good for you.” Lifting a bite of my
sweet potatoes, I stared at him as he polished off his own home fries.  “Um, I
believe you had another story to tell.”

He chewed slowly, a half-smile on
his mouth as he held my gaze. Picking up his glass, he drank and kept his eyes
on me. Not a neutral gaze either. He was scanning my face and upper body with
his captivating sea green eyes.

I began to get nervous and heated.
Swallowing down the food that had now become a tasteless lump on my tongue, I
picked up my napkin to wipe my mouth and distract myself.

“So, you want to know about my
relationship status?”

“Purely as an observation of an
old
friend.”

“I might be a year older than you.
You make me sound like I’m putting down payments on a walker.”

We both got a laugh at that. It
broke the sexual tension I was feeling.

“Never that, I’m not trying to age
myself.”

He sighed, clearing away some of the
laughter.

“I’ve had my share of dates. Nothing
that stuck for long.”

When I raised an eyebrow at his
words, he swiftly added, “I’m not a player or anything. In college there was
someone I thought was serious. I cared a lot about her, but I guess she and her
parents figured I’d change my view about being in the NFL. When it became
apparent I wasn’t, she ended it.”

I couldn’t hold back my shock. “That
was callous.”

He finished off his second glass of
wine before saying, “I only have myself to blame. I should have ended the
relationship well before then.”

Swirling the wine slowly in my
goblet, I stared at the moving liquid. “When people are in love, they try to
make things work.”

“Maybe. We met through friends and
it became a double couple’s situation that seemed perfect at the time since the
four of us hung out often. I’m not sure if it was love or the comfort of
routine.”

Extremely familiar with that kind of
commitment, I released my wine and gave him my attention instead of getting
trapped in my thoughts. A road I didn’t want to travel on.

“I had a few dates with women over
the last five years, but nothing ever came of it.”

“Are you a hard catch?”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head.
“Guess I just made a pact with myself that I wasn’t going to go beyond a first
date if
it
wasn’t there.”

“It?”

“It. You know that spark or the
instant attraction that just seems to take your breath away.” His intense gaze
met mine. “That feeling when you see someone and just want to smile for no
reason at all.”

I had to bite the inside of my
bottom lip to keep from smiling at his words. Never one to believe in that
‘love at first sight’, I still could not deny that Sloane awakened something in
me. Something I’d never felt with another man, not even Michael. It didn’t make
any sense to me.

Taking a breath, I rose. “Are you
finished?”

He nodded, but stood up with me and
grabbed his plate, glass and the bottle. “I’ll help you clean.”

“Thanks.” Picking up my glass, I led
us into the kitchen. He scraped the plates while I started packing up the
leftovers. Again I noticed how efficiently we worked together.

“Now, you know all my secrets, tell
me yours.”

I turned from putting the broccoli
and home fries containers in the refrigerator along with the remainder of the
wine. “I think my book is pretty open. I was married, had a son. You know about
my parents and Michael passing away.” Moving to where he was at the sink
rinsing the dishes, I pulled open the dishwasher and started loading. It was
already half full with Jason's and my morning dishes.

“Tell me how you and your husband
met. Did he go to our school?” He handed me a plate.

I smiled. Liking that Sloane wanted
to connect us to a school he only attended for a year and a half. “No. We met
like you and your ex, in college. Michael was a sweet and kind Georgia boy.
Smart as a whip.”

Silent, Sloane handed me the
glasses.

“I was rushing to freshman
orientation and not watching where I was going and tripped.” I straightened,
resting my hands on my hips while my mind returned back to that day. “I recall
thinking how glad I was that all the other students were in the auditorium
already or I’d have been so embarrassed. Then there was this voice behind me
asking if I was okay. I looked up and there was Michael.”

Sloane turned with a pot in his hand
and glanced at me. “Was it one of those magic moments?”

Shaking my head, I took the pot.
“Oh, no. I was too grateful that he wasn’t laughing at me. We didn’t date until
two years later.”

Frowning, Sloane asked, “Why so
long?”

I sighed and walked over to him and
pulled the silverware from the sink. “I was terrible at math. Practically
failing my second semester of geometry, Michael was a tutor for the math
department and we started spending a lot of time together.”

“Is this when you all fell in love
and started dating?” Sloane put the pan into the dishwasher while I grabbed a
detergent tab and placed it into the tray before closing and setting it to run
in a few hours.

He was already wiping the stove and
counters so I stood there feeling like I didn’t know what to do in my own
kitchen. I leaned back against the cleared counter by the stove. I heard
Sloane’s question, but I hated that question from people because I never really
knew how to answer it.

Placing the dish cloth on the hook
where it rested behind the sink he moved to stand before me. “Is it too painful
for you to talk about him?”

It should be.
“No.”

Sloane was standing too close to me.
His cologne, something clean with a spice blend, filled my nose. It was too
easy for me to compare this man before me to my late husband. Like Michael
never wore cologne, he was too practical for that—shower, deodorant and done.
Even when he and I were going on a special date.

I always loved cologne, that extra
bonus scent of a man.

Unlike Sloane who stood tall with broad
shoulders and big hands, Michael was only an inch or two taller than me and
never made me feel secure physically. Or emotionally. That all consuming
passion had never been there between Michael and me. Not like what I was
feeling for Sloane and that scared me to the marrow of my bones.

Placing a finger below my chin, he
angled my head up until he could stare into my eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong,
Gabrielle.”

Everything
. “Nothing.” I lied.

“The truth,” he demanded softly.

 I could feel my core tightening and
the hum of heat through my body at his commanding words. Not that I had some
desire to be ordered around, but Michael would have just let it go. Said okay
and been happy it wasn’t something heavy to talk about and walked away. Too
many times in our three year marriage I wanted him to push me, feel invested in
what was going on in my head, not just his own.

“I married a bookworm.”

Sloane chuckled, but continued to
stare at me. “I’m not seeing why that should be a bad thing, making you all
pensive.” His hand slid from my chin to my neck and massaged the back of it
gently.

The small, concentrated touch made
my body sing as if he were caressing me in other places. “I never felt like a
woman around Michael.”

Tilting his head, he asked, “You
mean like he made you wear the pants in the house.”

“Not in the usual ways.” I shook my
head. “He took care of the household, or at least contracted maintenance things
out and we both sat down at the beginning of the month and took care of the
bills. We frequently had literary or political conversations together…”

“And?”

For the first time since Michael’s
death, I felt my throat tighten and overwhelmed with emotion. Words began to
tumble out. “When he died, I went straight into mommy mode, became my son
needed everything. Jason struggled with his own understanding of death of his
grandparents and now his dad. We both watched Michael get sicker, rapidly. Then
he was just gone.”

BOOK: Secret Delights (Lingerie Series)
8.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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