He laughs a little. “Well, I’ll see you in about an hour.”
“I look forward to it.” I smile and hang up. I let the wide grin I’ve been keeping hidden spread across my face. This should be fun.
As we drive, Bryon puts on the radio, and I sing along to my favorite song. I think I feel the car stop, but it’s a little hard to tell since the ride has been so smooth. Butterflies start to play in my stomach. The phone rings again, so I pick it up.
“Miss Brooks, we’ve reached Mr. Scott,” Byron tells me.
“Thank you, Byron,” I say and hang up.
I step out, and the cold air whips around me, making my dress and shawl flow in the wind. I look up to see a huge plane—or jet?—fifty feet away from me. I mean, what was I expecting, really? Not this. Cal steps off with a phone in hand. I survey his appearance as he gets closer. He has on a black suit with a silver button-up underneath it—no tie. What really shocks me is that he’s wearing glasses, something I’ve not seen before, and it’s extremely sexy. When he nears me, he hangs up the phone.
“You look…” he says with a dazzling smile, his eyes trailing from my five-inch heels upward. “You’ve got to do a spin for me.” He licks those lips that I’m really starting to crave. “Actually, hold that thought.”
Biting his lip, he begins to circle around me, his gaze predatory. Once he’s fully made his way behind me, his arms cross over my stomach, and he kisses me softly on my neck. My whole body tingles.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he whispers in my ear, and I hope to regain my composure before he sees my face.
Luckily, he takes my hand, and in an instant, he’s leading me in the opposite direction of the Town Car. I’m confused but try to keep up with him in these five-inch stilettos while mentally scolding my hormones to control themselves.
“Where are we going?” I finally manage to speak.
“I thought we’d arrive in something a little more personal for the night.” He smiles back at me.
He pulls a pair of keys out of his pocket, and when we stop at a car parked right next to the hangar, my jaw drops on the floor. In front of me sits a magnificent all-black Aston Martin.
“This-this can’t be yours,” I say in disbelief. I’ve never been one to fawn over cars and make a big deal about expensive things, but this is an Aston Martin, for crying out loud. I remember what a big deal Steven and Angela made at the car show they dragged me to, and here I am about to get in one.
“It’s not mine. It’s a company perk,” he explains, opening the door for me with a playful glint in his eye.
I can’t help but appreciate the car’s warmth contrasting with the cold wind outside and, of course, the pure luxury that I’m smack in the middle of. The Aston reminds me of a plane, it’s so futuristic; I feel as if I stepped out of this year and fell into another decade. Cal is watching me, amused.
“You must be an extremely valuable asset to your company.” I chuckle, still in awe.
“I’m a hard worker. At all things,” he says.
I wonder if that’s an innuendo, or if my brain is just in the gutter. Stop it, brain!
“What is it that you do again?” I say “again,” but he never told me the first time. Now that I’m riding in this car, I’m a lot more curious than I was.
“I work for Crestfield Corporation,” he replies, turning on the radio.
Okay. Not quite what I asked, but I’ll take a where instead of a what.
“How old are you?” I ask, trying to figure out if he’s a lot older than he looks. He must be in an invaluable position to receive a perk like this.
“Two decades and some change,” he retorts playfully.
“Why do you wear glasses?” I ask. He seems like a guy who would wear contacts if he had the choice.
“To make people think I’m smart.” He grins slyly and takes them off. They’re sexy on him, but I’m glad when I can see those mesmerizing eyes of his. “You’re excited about the opening?”
“Very excited, actually. I still can’t believe I’m going.”
“Well, at least one of us is,” he groans.
“You’re not interested in art, I take it?”
“Someone once told me everything is art, so I wouldn’t have to go to a museum to see it.”
I frown a little. It would have been nice to go with someone who shared my interest in art, but I’m too thrilled to be brought down.
“So I decided I should at least have something beautiful to look at,” he says, throwing me a flirtatious grin.
So far, the night is starting off extremely well. I can’t wait to see what other surprises Cal may have in store for me.
May 9th 2011
May 9th, 2011
I love the spring breeze in Saginaw. I close my eyes as the cool wind passes, leaving tingles from the temperature change. I look at my watch and see that it’s three in the morning. We’ve been in Saginaw for four days. Four days that have passed like moments.
He stayed—a small gesture, but one that means so much. It’s been a long time since we’ve been like this, just with one another, no pretenses or agendas; having him for the entire day and not dreading the phone call that will pull him away.
I’ve been able to let the ice melt, and Cal has shown me a side of him I haven’t seen in a long time. I know we have a long way to go, but his being here is a step in the right direction. Still, there are moments when he seems lost in his own thoughts, where he’ll go off to be alone, leaving Raven and me to ourselves.
Those are the times my heart reaches out to him. I feel as though he’s struggling with something he won’t share with me. I don’t bother him about it, though I hope he’ll eventually learn to lean on me the way I have on him.
I’ve been sitting here on the balcony since one. I really should try to get some sleep. I walk back into the room where Cal is sprawled out on the bed. I can’t help but smile. He always looks like a little boy when he sleeps, so innocent and peaceful. I tiptoe to the other side of the bed, slip out of my robe, and climb in.
I settle under the covers and lay my head on his chest. It’s been months since I’ve done this, and I tentatively put my arm around him. I’ve missed this so much. When things started going wrong, I hated my desire to be near him. I resented my longing for the touch of someone who didn’t seem to need mine, so I pulled back.
I turn toward him now and watch his breathing pattern. It’s never deep, but subtle—almost as if he isn’t breathing at all. He’s always quiet, he never snores, and most of the time, his expression is calm. But then there are the moments when his breathing is faster, as if he has a million things going on in his head at once. I try to enjoy this moment and not think about anything else, but he’s so unpredictable, it wouldn’t surprise me if he jumped up all of a sudden and said he was going back to Chicago.
He must have heard my last thought. He’s up now, observing me, possibly attempting to read my mind. I would say he’s giving me his attention, but it’s more like he has mine.
“You think too much,” he whispers, massaging the small of my back.