You Might Just Get It

You Might Just Get It

Copyright 2009 Julia Barrett

Cover Artist: Winterheart Design

Special Thanks to Stacey Espino

All Rights Reserved

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All events, names, characters and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

You Might Just Get It

Copyright Julia Barrett

“
Oh my God! This is so yummy! Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“
Of course I did, Kate. I can’t leave a damsel in distress dripping on my doorstep.”

Kate put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. She didn’t think it would be polite to smile with a mouthful of sandwich.

“
No, I mean this supper. It’s really nice of you and this is amazing.”

“
You saw me make it, it’s nothing really. Took me all of five minutes.”

Kate watched Eric take a bite of his own sandwich. Egg yolk ran down the back of his fingers. Kate looked on, her mouth suddenly dry, as he turned his hand over and licked the bright yellow yolk with a pink tongue. Kate almost licked her lips in response, but she caught herself. She swallowed, hard, instead.

“
I’m so embarrassed to be locked out again.”

“
Not your fault,” replied Eric, grinning at her. He reached over and delicately rubbed her lower lip. “Egg yolk,” was all he said.

Kate could feel herself blushing.

“
These sandwiches hit the spot, but you either have to be prepared to use a lot of napkins or do a lot of licking. And I‘m out of napkins.”

Kate had been waiting on the stoop, drenched and shivering, hoping for somebody, anybody to show up, when Eric arrived home. For the fourth time in a week, her electronic key card hadn’t worked and she was stuck outside the building. She’d run out in the rain to retrieve a book from her car, barefoot, wearing a threadbare tee shirt and baggy jeans, only to find she couldn‘t get back in. If Eric hadn’t come by when he did, she’d have had to walk several blocks to the neighborhood grocery store to call a friend. She’d left her cell phone sitting on the kitchen table, along with a card on which she’d written down the security company‘s phone number after the last time she‘d gotten locked out. Eric was nice enough to let her in, for the second time in two days, and kind enough to invite her over for something hot to eat.

She’d changed quickly and toweled off her hair, but it was still damp. She felt the wet curls against the side of her face and she automatically brushed them back. She saw Eric’s eyes follow the movement of her hand. Kate deliberately looked down at her plate. She picked up a piece of arugula that had fallen from her sandwich and popped it into her mouth.

“
So, you’re a chef?” she asked, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with her thoughts.

“
I was, but I’m not working as a chef right now.”

Kate looked up. “Oh? Why not?”

“
Coming up with a business plan. Doing some research.” Eric stopped speaking to take a big bite. He chewed for a few moments. “I’d like to open my own place, but I need to figure a few things out.”

“
Such as?”

“
Oh, location, size, marketing, staffing, theme. This is a maybe. I want to be very cautious. Most restaurants go out of business within the first year. I don’t want to be one of them.”

“
I can understand that,” said Kate. “Nobody wants to lose their shirt.”

“
Oh, I don’t know.” Eric winked at her. “I can think of any number of situations where I’d like to lose my shirt.”

Kate felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the man was flirting with her.

“
It’s okay, Kate, you can smile. You have a lovely smile.”

“
Yes.” She allowed herself a small, self-deprecating, laugh. “Just lovely with egg sandwich all over my teeth.”

Eric reached a long arm across the table and, in a delicate motion, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Yes, even if you did have egg sandwich all over your teeth, you would still have a lovely smile.”

Kate shivered. No man had touched her like that in five years. Not since way before her divorce. He was definitely flirting with her. Eric had to be, what? At least ten years younger than she was. God, maybe fifteen. Why was she doing this? Sitting here at a table in a man’s apartment, eating his food, allowing herself to be disarmed by his charm, fantasizing about things forty-one year old women weren’t supposed to do with twenty-something year old, very attractive men.

“
You’re a nurse, right?” Eric asked.

“
Yes.”

“
Just, yes? Not yes, I work intensive care or yes, I do oncology nursing? Just, yes?”

Kate smiled again. She couldn’t help it. His good humor was infectious. “I don’t talk much about my work. It freaks some people out. I’m a hospice nurse.”

“
Oh, so you see dead people.”

Eric’s delivery was so deadpan Kate nearly spit out a mouthful of bread.

“
Yes.” She laughed. “I see dead people. Where’d you pick up the hospice humor?”

“
Friend of mine. She’s a medical social worker. I guess you have to laugh or you can’t do the job, right?”

“
You got it,” replied Kate. She took a sip of the fresh squeezed orange juice Eric had poured for her. She raised her glass to him. “Nice,” she said. “I ought to buy myself a juicer.”

“
No need,” said Eric. “You can use mine anytime you want.”

***

Eric lifted his eyes and studied the woman seated across the small table from him. Her damp curls surrounded her head like a halo. The first time he’d seen her, in the window across the courtyard, her hair had been damp, just like this. Sweet. Very appealing. He doubted she had any idea her kitchen window looked directly into his. Probably not. She’d only moved in ten days ago. Eric assumed she was still busy unpacking. That was one of the reasons he’d invited her to dinner, one reason among many. He wondered briefly how old Kate was. It was hard to tell. She could be anywhere from twenty-nine to forty-five. But he wasn’t about to ask her and he didn’t care. Her age didn’t matter to him. Her laugh did. Her big brown eyes did. Her luscious lips. Her wide white smile.

When he’d arrived home and found her soaked to the skin and shivering on the stoop, he got to play the hero. That was twice in two days. There was no way he’d pass up an opportunity to spend time with her. He’d hoped she’d accept his offer of dinner and he‘d been pleased when she did. It was no big deal, one of his easy meals. Oven toasted rustic bread with melted gruyere, roasted tomatoes, baby arugula and a soft fried egg. Simple and sensuous. The sandwich was messy and it required the use of all your fingers. There was a lot of runny egg yolk and licking involved. Eric hoped he could segue that licking into something else entirely.

God, there was a lot to like about her. Not only was Kate easy on the eyes, she was intelligent, articulate, mature, and she appreciated his sense of humor. Plus she blushed at the drop of a hat. Eric found that adorable. She wasn’t jaded or flighty, like so many women he’d met recently. He’d bet the farm she hadn’t grown up in California. Probably Iowa or Illinois. Someplace rural. An old-fashioned country girl.

“
Where’d you come from? I mean, where are you from originally?” he asked.

“
Blair, Nebraska. It’s a little town near the Missouri River. I went to school there. Dana College. You?”

“
Minneapolis.”

“
You’re kidding? You don’t have a Minnesota accent.”

“
Yeah, well, I worked hard getting rid of that. I can do it if you like.”

“
You mean like…Minnesooooota, North Dakoooooota, ya think? Like that?”

It was Eric’s turn to laugh. “More or less.” He looked at her plate. “Finished?”

“
Oh, yes, thank you. The sandwich was great. I can cook, but I guess it never occurred to me that such simple ingredients could taste so good together.” Kate reached for his empty plate and set it on top of hers. “Let me help clean up. That’s the least I can do.”

He watched as Kate rose from her chair and stretched. The view pleased him. Her breasts were pert. Not large, but pert with perky nipples. Two handfuls. That’s all he needed.

“
You have a long day today?”

“
Not too bad. Really. It would have been better if I hadn’t locked myself out. But what can you do? I was sort of hoping to curl up in a hot bath with a good book, but I left my book in the car and then the key… Well, you know the story.” Kate carried the plates to the sink.

Eric followed with the empty glasses. “You can still have a hot bath,” he said.

“
Yeah, I guess,” she replied, rinsing off the plates.

Eric set the glasses down on the counter and ran a hand lightly through the chestnut locks that hugged the back of her neck. He watched goose bumps rise as he trailed his fingers along her shoulders. He heard Kate’s sharp intake of breath. He waited momentarily to see if she’d move away, but she remained still.

“
I mean, if you’re interested, you could have a hot bath…with me.” Eric lowered his mouth to the tender juncture between her neck and her shoulder and lightly moved his lips over her soft skin. God, she smelled sweet. Like fresh, spring rain. He felt Kate’s breathing quicken and he wondered if she would bolt, but she stayed where she was. He moved his hands down her arms and wrapped his hands around hers beneath the running water. His long fingers twined through hers. She didn’t pull away.

Kate raised her head and stared at his reflection in the window. Her eyes were wide. “Eric,” she said softly, “We’ve only known each other for ten days and even at that, this is the most time we’ve spent in each other’s company. I’m not sure, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Eric stood behind her, meeting her gaze in the window. “I think it’s a very good idea,” he replied. “I’ve been thinking about it since the day you moved in and I saw you across the courtyard. Through this very window.”

“
You can see me?” she asked.

“
Just your head.” Eric chuckled. “When you’re in the kitchen. I like your hair damp like this. I like the way it curls around your face.”

Another intake of breath.

“
Eric…I…what about…I mean…” Kate began to pull her hands away. “We’re not the same age.”

“
No, we’re not,” he answered. “And that’s an issue because?”

“
It’s an issue because I’m older than you.” Her voice was husky.

“
An issue for whom?”

“
You? Me?”

Eric kept his voice low. “Kate, if it was an issue for me, I wouldn’t be standing here, trying to keep from pressing against you because I’m so hard it hurts.”

Staring at Kate’s reflection, he watched her eyes close. Her lips parted and a tiny sound, almost a whimper, escaped her. His wet hands left hers and he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, drawing her backwards, drawing her close, pressing her shapely bottom against his erection. He wasn’t lying to her. His cock throbbed behind the zipper of his jeans, eager and aching to be buried inside the heat of the woman in front of him. If, and this was a big if, Kate would give him the opportunity.