The Second Time Around, page 26
Sung-ho lifted his chin and turned away from Smith with a sniff. “What can I get you?” he asked Claire.
After they’d ordered and Sung-ho had moved out of earshot, Claire leaned forward. “I don’t think he liked you offending his plant.”
Smith leaned in. “Why are we whispering?” He glanced over at the greenish-yellow lance-shaped leaves. “Do you think it can hear us?”
Claire picked up her paper place mat and held it between their heads and the plant. “I think we’re fine as long as it can’t see us.”
“Did that paper just make us invisible?”
She snorted out a laugh and sat back. He reminded her of Tommy. Or maybe Tommy reminded her of Smith. Either way, it was a good connection. “Who will be on the boat tonight?”
Smith went down the list. Two married couples—that surprised Claire. But why should it? “And then Chris,” Smith said. “He’s also supposed to be bringing a date.”
Also. Just one little word, but it turned Claire’s lips up. So this was a date. She laughed at herself inside. What did it matter what she named the night? She was here with Smith, at a magical table, feeling a lot of nonplatonic things. She couldn’t label any of that away.
Sung-ho brought a smattering of tiny dishes of kimchi, gochujang, and cucumbers. Then he set down two sizzling bowls. Brown eyes speared Claire. “It’s hot.”
“Okay.” She skipped the chopstick option and picked up her spoon. This food looked good. How had she missed this all her life? It’s not like she’d gone out a ton with Stevie. And he’d liked what he’d liked. Burgers, chicken wings, beer, and . . . well, that was mostly it.
“No. I don’t think you are listening to me,” Sung-ho said. “It’s hot.”
She tried to appear serious and probably failed. It didn’t help that Smith was chewing back amusement. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”
“Don’t blame me when you burn yourself.” He walked away.
“It’s like I’m five.” She spooned up some rice and put it in her mouth. Then dropped it back onto the spoon when it seared her tongue. “Ouch. That’s hot.”
Smith laughed so hard his hand shook as he handed her ice water.
She sipped, then squinted across the restaurant to where Sung-ho was typing into his computer. “Maybe he is magic.”
Smith dumped toppings into his bowl and stirred. He hadn’t tried to take a bite yet. “Nah, he just knows everyone burns their tongue the first time.”
She rolled a piece of ice around her mouth. “Dang. I hate being an everyone.”
He looked her in the eyes. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Her chest tightened, and she accidentally swallowed the ice chunk. It didn’t do much against the heat rising through her core.
She ate slowly, savoring the meal and the company. She may have laughed more in this one meal than she had all year. When she’d eaten all she wanted, she passed her last third to Smith. He finished it as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
When the check came, she reached for her wallet, but Smith shooed her off.
“I picked this place. I buy. Next time, it’s on you.”
Next time. Those words shot around her system like untethered helium balloons. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but she nodded.
He popped a mint in his mouth and handed her the other. After he paid, she stood. As she reached for her coat, her elbow swung back and struck the plant. “Ouch.” She rubbed the spot, and it hurt enough that she checked to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. A drop of red bubbled below her elbow. “It got me.”
Sung-ho appeared. “It’s okay. It is a good omen.” He gave them a knowing grin. “It is a very good sign.” His brows wiggled like caterpillars.
Smith ignored the insinuation as he took her arm. His warm fingers wrapped the meat of her forearm. “Do you have a bandage?”
“I do. We keep a box for the cook.” He rushed away.
Smith chuckled, his hand still a notable presence holding her. “That is not something I wanted to know.”
“Good thing we already ate.” Claire imagined some poor sap in the back of this sketchy place with bandages covering his bloody hands as he tried to chop carrots.
She was sorry when Smith finished doctoring her and took his hand away. He didn’t put his arm around her. No one had held her hand for five years, and she’d insisted she hadn’t missed it. She was missing it now with an ache that pressed into her chest.
“You really got beat up in there,” Smith said as they walked into the parking lot. The sun had set, and chilly darkness had taken over. “It’s going to get more dangerous from here. You going to be okay?”
She stopped and turned around to face him. They stood between two cars in a narrow alley of privacy. “You must have heard how that sounds.”
He feigned innocence. “What? If you lose your footing on the boat, you might get more than a minor boo-boo.”
“I didn’t lose my footing.”
He grinned.
“Or maybe I did. I sure don’t feel like I’m in control of my footing. And for all your talk of danger, I still want to take the jump.” There. Take that chunk of honesty and eat it. Her breathing deepened. She felt as if she’d thrown herself at his mercy.
He’d gone still.
“And no. I do not think I’m going to be okay.”
In the dim light, his eyes glittered with blue flame as he stared. He didn’t move to close the one-foot gap between them.
“Did you make a no-touching-me rule tonight or something?” Because she was dying.
“I did.”
“Oh.” Her body came alive as her thoughts flip-flopped. “It’s driving me crazy.”
An arrogant, seductive, sexy smile spread over his face. “Good.”
Acid sharpened her tone. “I didn’t take you for a mean streak.”
His face fell.
She hadn’t meant it, but the want in her body was so tight it hurt.
“I’m not pretending this date didn’t happen, and I’m not kissing you again unless you mean it. That would drive me crazy.”
Oh. With his broad shoulders and hard jaw, he looked so bold, so unbreakable. Her courage failed her. She looked down, not quite ready to tell him just how much she’d meant that last kiss. She’d never been good at pretending. “I’m sorry about that. I was the one being mean in Hawaii.”
“I forgive you. And I’ve learned my lesson. Now get a move on so we don’t miss your glowing sea bugs.”
She smiled, the strain in her belly unspooling. It was easier to sit by him in the car while not touching, knowing that he was waiting for her.
They were the last of the group to arrive at the dock. A curly-haired man who looked to be in his late twenties greeted her with a grin and a can of sparkling coconut soda.
“Hello, Claire. I’m Chris. It’s so nice to meet you.”
He said it as if he meant it. As if he’d heard of her.
The others had beer, but he hadn’t offered her or Smith one. Which meant Smith had told him not to. It was a thoughtful gesture. Smith had been thinking of her, of how he could make her comfortable. She looked over at Smith, the sea and sky behind him. He smiled at her as if he knew what she was thinking. But he couldn’t know that she was thinking about how much she wanted to go all in with him. She could only hope love would be better the second time around.
“All aboard,” said a tall, thin man with wiry glasses.
“It’s not a train,” a woman said.
“And we’re already all aboard,” another said.
“And you are no fun.” The tall one started the engine.
Claire held Smith’s drink while Smith untied the rope and pushed the boat away from the dock. And then they were off, the wind in her hair, the smell of salt and freedom filling her chest. It was too loud to visit, and Claire was glad. She moved to the bow, zipped up her coat, and sat facing the churning ocean. Her pulse beat in time with the pounding of the waves. She breathed in the thrill of living. She knew Smith wasn’t perfect. There would be bumps. But after feeling the sparks, feeling wonder and optimism and companionship, she couldn’t walk away, even if she got burned. She laughed. She was going to jump. And she couldn’t be more excited.
Neon blue glowed where the waves crested, creating ripples of light.
“Look there!” a female voice yelled.
Claire popped to her feet and joined Smith and the group on the other side. She gasped. Dolphins.
The bioluminescence glowed where the dolphins agitated the water. They glided along with the boat as if making friends. They created the most beautiful bright lines and curves. Claire tried to memorize the shapes so she could recreate the paths with her brush on canvas.
“It’s magical.”
“Yeah,” Smith said at her side.
She looked up at him, the beauty of the moment and abundance of fresh air making her heady. “Just put your arm around me, you big weenie.”
He choked on a chuckle and then coughed. He put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his ribs. He pressed his face into her hair, his lips finding her ear. “Why are you thinking about my big weenie?”
She was glad the air was cold and the night dark as she tilted her face down and pressed deeper against his side. She was thinking about it now.
He laughed, but at least he didn’t let her go. Thank Sung-ho’s weird plant for that.
“Licorice?” Chris appeared with a massive tub of the red stuff.
“You can’t go boating without it,” Smith said.
“Law of the Chris-verse.”
Claire allowed herself to take the candy. She allowed herself to relax and fully enjoy the strong arm around her back, the pleasant company, and the majestic ocean.
When they docked the boat, it was too soon.
“Thanks for coming,” Chris said.
The entire group said nice things to her. They treated her like she wasn’t from an older generation. She liked Smith’s friends. They were cool, which made him cooler. She wanted to hang out with them again.
Back in Smith’s car and driving home, Claire said, “Thank you for inviting me tonight. That was way more incredible to see from a boat than on shore.”
“You’re welcome.” He made a left turn, looking away from her.
Too soon he was pulling up to her house. She didn’t want to go in there and be alone again. She wasn’t done with this feeling in her belly. She wasn’t done with him.
Smith put the car in park but didn’t turn it off. “Thanks for coming with me.”
He was saying goodbye. It was the prudent thing to do. Maybe she should try to shift to a lower gear, slow it down, but instead she said, “I finished a painting today. Want to tell me what you think before you go?”
He eyed her suspiciously, but she saw the tiny spark of hope there, too; it sent a shot of dopamine through her system. He turned off the engine and climbed out, leaving his coat behind. Good, the better for viewing that torso.
They glided up her walkway, not touching. Inside, she dropped her jacket and keys on the end table. Heart hammering, she led him down the dark hall. Her bed seemed to wink at her through the opened door. She strode into the garage and turned on the light.
She stepped aside, suddenly embarrassed. What if he thought it wasn’t good? What was she doing showing him her painting as if she needed flattery? He stepped up to the canvas, studying.
Her phone buzzed. She peeked at it. A text from Mona. Millie has thrown up twice tonight. I’m starting to freak.
Claire sighed. This was her real life, not this dream evening.
“It’s amazing,” Smith said, voice low with sincerity.
“That’s nice of you to say. Thanks.” She didn’t look at the painting. Embarrassed and feeling untethered, she retreated into the house. She heard his footsteps and turned. Dim light from an outside halogen filtered through the hall window and sharpened the angles of his face.
“What’s wrong?” He was looking at her, caring, listening. It was intoxicating.
“I’m ten years older than you. That’s a decade.”
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
“I have three kids. A grandchild. A dead husband. So much baggage. You need a young, fresh, elastic woman.”
He looked as if she’d slapped him. “You don’t get to tell me what I need.”
She flinched at his tone.
“You don’t think I’ve been with younger women? I’ve tried plenty of this so-called elasticity.”
Unpleasantness slashed through her. “All right. I get the idea.”
His face transformed as he grinned. “All I’m saying is I’m not a kid either. And I’m not interested in dating one.”
Hope collided with fear, sending shock waves through her chest. “But I’m damaged goods.” Claire knew it. She needed to make sure Smith knew it. Knew exactly what he was getting into. She’d give him every opportunity to run far away from her mess. She was afraid of being stuck, of powerlessness, of more heartbreak.
But she was more afraid of the regret she’d feel if she didn’t give love another chance.
She was done letting Stevie control her from the grave. She blinked with sudden sharp clarity. No more. No fucking more, Stevie. She would be free of him. She would soar.
“You’re not damaged.” Smith’s voice pulled her back to the romantic reality of her dim hallway. “You’re interesting and wise. You’re funny and clever and kind. You think about things and people and listen with compassion. You have a big heart, and you’re generous with it, taking care of everyone. You’re a creative genius.”
Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious. But he was looking at her with so much earnest interest her legs melted.
His voice softened to a velvet caress. “And you’re beautiful. That face is perfection.”
She was stunned silent. Any moment she would wake up and find she was alone in her cold bed. Or worse, next to a passed-out Stevie.
“How can you be so many sexy things all at once? It’s not fair to all the other women.”
His words were like molten pleasure through her body. “I want to believe you.” She’d been with Stevie for seventeen years, and he’d never described her as clever or wise or interesting. Sometimes he’d tell her she was beautiful, but more often he’d said she was nuts.
“Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
She blanked on a reply. She’d finally come to a place where she thought very well of herself. “Because I’m afraid.”
“You’re afraid?” His voice was incredulous. “I’m the one who accidentally fell in love with you.”
All the air whooshed out of her lungs at the same time fire raced through. Love.
The phone in her hand rang. She looked down, away from his scorching gaze. Mona. Her daughter needed her. Smith had just handed her his heart. She couldn’t compute.
“Will you wait one second?”
“Yes, Claire. I will wait.”
Those words, in that earthy bass. They did something to her insides. Her voice came out raspy when she answered the phone. “Hi, honey, you okay?”
“Why didn’t you answer my text?”
“I—”
“What are you doing?”
As if Claire wasn’t allowed to be doing anything on a Saturday evening but be on call for Mona. “How’s Millie?”
“She’s throwing up.” Claire held the phone farther from her ear as Mona’s worried voice blasted through.
“Does she have a fever or other symptoms?”
“No fever. She’s asleep now.”
“Is she breathing without trouble?”
“Yes.”
Claire had switched into her motherly calming voice. “I think you should let her sleep. And get some rest yourself.”
“What if she wakes up and barfs again?”
“Then you’ll clean it up. You are there with her. She’ll be fine. I’ll call to check on you both in the morning.”
“Wait. You’re hanging up?”
“I have to go.” Claire was conscious of Smith’s bulk at her side and the bubbling heat in her belly.
“Where?”
“Mona, I love you. Get some rest. Millie will be okay.”
“Fine.” Mona’s voice was sulky. “I guess you have better things to do.” She clicked off.
Claire lowered her phone, conscious that her hands were beginning to tremble. “I do have better things to do. She doesn’t need to be so shocked.”
Smith didn’t reply.
She strode to the kitchen and set her phone down before returning to the dark hallway where he still waited, just as she’d asked him to. “I’m sorry.”
He leaned his bulk against the wall. “For what?”
“For the phone call.”
“Is that all?”
She stepped closer. “Do you want me to be sorry you accidentally like me?” She put her fingers on his chest and started sliding them up the heavy planes of muscle. He felt so good she could barely breathe. His hands wrapped her wrist, stopping her. She looked up at ocean eyes.
“I’m far past merely liking you. And just because it was a surprise doesn’t mean it isn’t welcome.”
How unlike her first pregnancy. But now she couldn’t imagine a world without Mona or any of her girls. Smith knew about her past. He knew her, and he was still here.
“Stop being so stubborn and tell me,” Smith said.
Was she ready to say the L-word? Did she love him? She knew she did, but the words clogged and then dissolved in her throat.
“Tell me you want me to kiss you for real this time.”
He’d let her off the hook, no pressure. She looked at his full lips just inches from hers. No more Stevie. No more clipped wings. Tonight she would finally break free and either fly or die. “I didn’t think I could love again, but I was wrong. And I love you with a part of my heart that has never been touched before.”
Smith slid his hands up her arms and over her back. “That was not what I expected you to say.” Warm fingers on her waist, he drew her against his front. “But it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Her veins crackled as his body responded to her. His breath shortened. He seemed to glow in the darkness, waiting.
