Translucent (19 page)

“As you’ve probably figured out, I’ve met someone recently that I’m quite interested in and—”

“The one you took to the steakhouse last week?” she interrupts.

“Yes, her name is Blake. She works for JDT Graphics, the consultant we hired for the video game project,” I explain. “I’m going to be seeing her again tonight, and I want to keep it low-key, movies and dinner at the house. I was hoping you could help me with some good chick-flicks to watch. I don’t know anything about those damn mushy, feel-good movies.”

Trying to conceal her laughter, her eyes twinkle with delight. “Wow, she must be something special if you’re willingly spending a Friday night at home eating while watching romantic movies. I’m intrigued.”

“Stop trying to marry me off, Caroline,” I tease with a smirk. “No, all kidding aside, she’s beautiful, smart, sensitive, and unlike anyone I’ve ever dated, but it’s still very early. However, I’m very intrigued as well. Now, tell me some movies to impress her with, preferably something without vampires and werewolves.”

“Well, a few modern-day classics are Dirty Dancing, Pretty Woman, and Top Gun; I’ve never met a woman that doesn’t love all three. However, if you google
Top Chick-Flick
, ninety percent of the lists are going to have
The Notebook
at the top. It’s truly incredible.”

I nod my head in acknowledgement. “Thanks, Caroline. I really appreciate it. I’m going to be leaving here shortly. I pulled a recipe offline a while ago, and I’m going to stop at the store to get the ingredients. Let’s hope I don’t poison us both.”

“You’re not going to have Sarah cook it for you?” she inquires, raising her eyebrows.

After the excitement of the morning, I’d given Sarah the rest of the day off, but I don’t feel like reliving all of what happened. “Nah, Sarah’s off tonight, and I kinda wanted to do something nice for Blake myself.”

“Excellent,” she beams before returning to her desk. “If you need help with anything, you know where to find me.”

Rapidly, I wrap up the few open items on my desktop, and then power off for the weekend. I’m thoroughly looking forward to spending the next couple of days with
my
Blake, and I only hope there’s not a repeat of this morning over the weekend.

F
RIDAY
AT
THE
OFFICE
IS
A
near wash for me. I stare at the computer screen, but my mind is with Madden, alternating between the memories from the night before, where his mouth pleasured me in ways I never knew were possible, to this morning, when I suffered from a flashback and he took care of me. Even though I was humiliated by him seeing me in that state, I couldn’t believe how affectionate and attentive he’d been. It all seems too good to be true…
he
seems too good to be true, and the warning bells in my head remind me of what happened the last time I thought that. I remind myself to be cautious, to not get too emotionally involved and enjoy it for what it is, except I’m not really sure what
it
is. Jae has asked me several times if I’m okay, which I assure her I am, but I’m still not positive. Either way, I’ll follow through on my word and go over to his house tonight, because the truth is, I want to be with him. At home, I’m forced to face my demons all alone, like I’ve been doing for the past couple of years.

Thankfully, we reach a stopping point a little before five o’clock, so we’re able to leave earlier than we have been. Rushing home, I take a quick shower to freshen up and change into comfortable jeans and a cute top. I’m not sure if it’s presumptuous to bring along an overnight bag, so I decide to pack one and leave it in the car. If I stay, I can pretend I accidentally left it in there. At half-past six, I text Madden to make sure he’s home before I drive to his house, and in less than a minute, he replies for me to head that way. A little over thirty minutes later, I pull up in the driveway behind his car and hop out of mine, anxious to see him again.

The door opens before I reach the front porch, and my stomach flips at the sight of Madden standing there barefoot in khaki cargo shorts and a fitted navy t-shirt that emphasizes his eyes. His naturally-highlighted hair is in its usual finger-combed, perfectly-messy state, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he’s not clean-shaven. The closer I get, the bigger his smile spreads, until I’m close enough for him to reach out and grasp my hipbones, tugging me to him.

“I’ve missed you,” he growls as he kisses me demandingly.

Laughing lightly against his lips, I reach up and rub my hand across the scruff on his cheek. “You saw me this morning, and what is this?”

He releases me with one last quick kiss. “Yeah, I didn’t shave this morning. What do you think?”

“I like it. You look laid-back and relaxed.”

“I am, especially when you’re around,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “Now get your ass inside. I have surprises for you.”

Following him through the foyer and well-decorated living room, we enter the kitchen and the smell of something delicious cooking fills my nostrils, causing my stomach to rumble loudly.

“Good, you’re hungry,” he says, walking over to the stove. “I’ll have you know I made this all myself, so I’m not sure how it’s going to turn out, but hopefully it’ll be decent.”

“It smells wonderful. What is it?” I ask as he stirs something in a large pot.

“Baked potato soup. I thought it would be easy for you to eat. I also bought sourdough bread bowls to eat it out of,” he responds proudly. “It’s almost ready. I just need to get the grated cheese, bacon pieces, and chopped chives from the refrigerator to add to the top.”

“I’m impressed,” I remark. He has no idea how much it means to me that not only did he cook me dinner, but he considered the fact I couldn’t eat a whole lot because of my tongue.
Seriously, too good to be true.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting at the dining room table enjoying some of the best soup I’ve ever had as we discuss our days at the office. I get a little more insight about Decker Enterprises, and I can see the admiration in his eyes when he talks about his secretary, Caroline, who he claims wants to meet me sometime soon. Knowing he’s told her about me gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside, like he’s proud of me and plans to keep me around for a while.

It doesn’t take us long to finish our meal, and even though he says we can leave the dishes for Sarah in the morning, I convince him together we can finish them in no time. I’m sure the last thing she wants to walk into is a messy kitchen as soon as she arrives. When we’ve got the leftovers put away and the dishwasher loaded, he leads me upstairs to his bedroom.

“Get comfy while I get the movie ready,” he says as he strolls over to the television on the wall.

I move the pillows from the head of the bed to the foot, so we can lie on our stomachs to watch whatever movie he’s picked out. He grabs a couple of remotes and joins me, smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

“What’s so funny?” I ask. “Are we about to watch something crazy?”

“Crazy that I’m watching it? Yes,” he says, nudging his shoulder against mine, “but I’m hoping you like it.”

“I’m really curious now. Push play already!” I friskily try to grab the remote from his hands.

“Calm down, silly girl. I’m getting there.”

As soon as I see that he’s selected
The Notebook
for us to watch, my eyes tear up, partly because I know he’s really trying to make me happy picking a total chick-flick, and partly because I’ve seen this movie no less than ten times, and I boohoo like a crazy person every time I watch it.

“Have you ever seen this before?” I whisper through the opening scene.

He shakes his head. “No, have you?”

“Yes, it’s one of my all-time favorites,” I reply. “You chose perfectly.”

Leaning over, he softly kisses the corner of my mouth. “Good. Now you better not ruin it for me.”

Together, we lay there and watch the beautifully heartbreaking story of Noah Calhoun and Allie Hamilton as they meet, fall in love, get torn apart, and find each other again. As the closing credits scroll across the screen two hours later, I’m sure my cheeks are blotchy and streaked with mascara, and I look over at Madden, surprised to find his eyes glassy as well.

“Well, what did you think?” I ask through my sniffles.

“I’ve never cried because of a movie before,” he admits, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“It’s a pretty hard one not to cry in…” My voice trails off for a moment. “What was your favorite part?”

Rolling onto his side, he finally looks at me with a soft smile. “Hmm…I think I like when they first met at the carnival and she pulled his pants down on the Ferris wheel. It showed his determination and her sassiness.”

Nodding in agreement, I giggle. “What is it about carnivals and Ferris wheels that always seem so romantic? How many books and movies use that setting for couples to either meet or fall in love?”

“Well, most often, it’s set at night, so you’ve got the twinkling lights of all the rides and games under the moonlit sky, and then there’s the smell of all those amazing foods that awakens your appetite…for everything,” he waggles his eyebrows jokingly at me, “and finally, most of the rides have at least a hint of danger to them, which stimulates the endorphins in your brain. Even the Ferris wheel, although it moves slowly, for most of the ride, you’re suspended high above the earth in a semi-enclosed space with someone, where no one else can see what you’re doing. All of it combined makes for a pretty romantic atmosphere; not to mention, there’s this overall youthful, innocent feeling about being at a carnival. Ya know?”

Gazing at him in disbelief, I can’t believe how perfectly he answered my question. “Well, that makes perfect sense when you explain it like that. However, unfortunately, I don’t know. I’ve never been to a carnival before.”

His eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. “You’ve got to be joking! You’ve never been to a carnival? Where in the world did you grow up? They have carnivals even in Podunk towns across the country.”

A moment of truth arises. Do I divulge and tell him a little of my past, or sweep over it with a half-ass answer? “I grew up in Chicago,” I reply in a half-whisper, “and yes, there were carnivals; I just never went to one. My mom was deathly afraid of the rides at them, so she always made me swear not to go. I have been to a theme park before, though. Great America wasn’t far from where I lived. She was okay with that, because the rides were stationary and underwent safety testing.”

Reaching out, he taps the end of my nose with the tip of his finger. “Tomorrow, sweet girl, I’m taking to you to the Santa Monica Pier. It’s the best of both worlds—a complete carnival ambiance, but entirely stationary, with all of the safety shit so you don’t have to break a promise to Mom.

“I’m sure she’d have appreciated that.” It’s difficult for me not to get sad when I think about her. There’s no love like a mother’s love, and it’s one I’ll never experience again.

Understanding my comment, he moves his hand from my nose to my waist and pulls me flush against his body. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he whispers into my hair.

I inhale and exhale several deep breaths into his neck to keep myself from crying again. Mercifully, he doesn’t ask any questions about her or her death; he simply holds me until I feel better.

“I’m okay,” I murmur, pulling my head back enough to look into his face. “Did you have another movie you wanted to watch, or are you ready to call it a night?”

Pressing his forehead against mine, he says, “I want to do whatever makes you happy, as long as it ends with you wrapped in my arms, asleep in this bed.”

We make it to the first love scene in
Top Gun
before Madden finds his inner Maverick, and using his hands and mouth to devour every inch of my body, it doesn’t take long before he indeed takes my breath away. I wasn’t sure he could outdo the previous night’s performance, but as he licks, sucks, and nibbles from my head to my toes, I feel more comfortable with his explorations and learn I can come on his command, much to the delight of both of us. I lose count of my orgasms; one rolls into the next, and I’m without a doubt more turned on than I’ve ever been.

At some point, I think I pass out from overstimulation, my brain not sure how to process the amount of sensual euphoria surging through me. Waking up to the early morning sunrays cutting through the room, I’m stark naked, engulfed in Madden’s strong arms with my face pressed against his bare chest. Not quite ready to leave my personal little heaven, I close my eyes and snuggle in tighter, falling back asleep for a few more hours.

When I wake up again later in the morning, his face is once again nuzzled in the apex where my thighs meet, his tongue tracing the outer edges of my folds.

“You’re gonna spoil me if you keep doing that,” I warn in a raspy morning voice.

Gazing up at me through his drowsy lids, a wicked gleam flashes in his eyes. “That’s the plan, sleeping beauty,” he replies with his mouth still touching my delicate skin. The vibration of his deep voice against my smooth lower lips hums throughout me, sending a surge of moisture directly to the source.