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He cleared his throat, eyeing the bag in my hand. “Good because it looks like you came prepared.”
I gave him a lopsided smile. “Is this weird?”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Trying to hear Lance, to feel as sure about this as he was, I walked toward him and gave him a peck on the lips. Please, I prayed, help me relax. “Then are you going to ask me in?” I asked, trying to play it cool.
“Please.” He tilted his head and ushered me inside, but when I didn’t move, my feet firmly planted to the ground, he smiled and turned around himself, walking in. “How about this?” he asked. “I’ll leave the door open and you come in when you’re ready.”
“But there are mosquitoes out,” I cried. “They’ll get inside.”
He chuckled from inside. “Then come in and we can close the door and enjoy ourselves for the evening.” Lance sat down on a chair in his living room, his feet up on the coffee table as if he was perfectly content in waiting around for me to make a move.
I swayed my head back and forth, debating what to do. What is wrong with you, my brain was practically shouting at me, go in! But I couldn’t ignore all the doubts, the worry, the concern that this was a big mistake. “I’m usually not like this,” I promised him.
He nodded from his chair. “I know. Apparently, it’s something you only reserve for me,” he said casually, a chuckle in his voice.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about his words. “You bring out the worst in me,” I countered. There, it was his fault.
He stood. “No. I think it’s quite the opposite. I let you be exactly who you are instead of what you think you need to be for everyone else,” he said and waited before walking away, disappearing somewhere deep inside his house.
Where was he going? We were talking.
Well, he was talking and I was listening. And I actually heard him.
Was he right?
I knew I was different around Lance, but maybe he was onto something—he brought out the best in me, not the worst.
Not sure I wanted to admit that, but definitely ready to see this through, I finally walked in and closed the door behind me. “You know what I’ve always hated about summers in Florida?” I asked, the words sounding droll even to my ears, but knew we had to start somewhere and I needed that place to be light and casual, not heavy and deep.
“What’s that?” he asked, pouring a glass of wine and sliding it across the counter to me.
I put my bag down on the floor by the bar stool and sighed, taking the glass in my hands. It was exactly what I needed, dare I even say, should’ve had before I got here. I took a sip and then finally answered, “Being eaten alive when you leave your house after a certain time of day. I have to wear bug spray and I hate that stuff, it smells horrible.”
He laughed, but ignored my comment. “The lasagna’s almost done. Why don’t you take a seat and relax? I’ll bring your bag up to my room.”
I held up a hand and stopped him before he could pick my bag up and leave with it. “Your room?” Not that I wanted to be anywhere but with him, in his arms, in his bed.
He turned to me and laughed again, this time his eyes dancing with amusement. “You didn’t think I was going to put you up in my son’s empty bedroom for the night, did you?”
I shrugged. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”
He tilted his head, clearly confused. Maybe I wasn’t making myself clear.
“Since you’ve seen me,” I elaborated. I didn’t really need to get into it further than that, did I? Maybe one look at my body three years later and he’d want to run. I mean, there was a fairly substantial age gap between us and he could have any twenty-year-old he wanted, no doubt about it.
“Gem,” he started, approaching me, his arms out, ready to wrap them around me.
I backed up. “Lance, I’m serious. I’m almost forty. Not everything is as tight and perky as you’re probably used to.”
Ignoring me, he proceeded to walk over to be and placed his hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down. “You worry way too much. You’re beautiful, and,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “as far as your breasts go, because I’m assuming we’re talking about your breasts here, I’m sure they’re just as perfect now as they were before.”
“Do you know anything else that should be perky?” I asked, eyebrow raised, smiling at this incredibly charming man before me.
He kissed the top of my head then brushed his fingers along my collarbone before fussing with the spaghetti strap on my dress. He brought his mouth to my shoulder and began kissing it.
I angled my head and let out a moan at the feel of him lavishing such attention on me. “Lance,” I pleaded.
