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I walk over to Foster and he touches my arm as I pass him into the kitchen. "What is it?"
He has three plates out on the counter with oranges and apples slices. A pot of pasta boils on the stove. "Henry can't go to the beach as much anymore."
"Why not?"
He lowers his voice so Henry can't hear. "He's going through chemo. Some days are bad. So don't talk about how he should go. Makes him sad."
"Oh my gosh. He has cancer? Is he going to beat it?"
Foster shakes his head. "We don't know. He's fighting it, but pancreatic cancer has a low survival rate and it's basically incurable." He turns to his pot and stirs it with a wooden spoon.
Incredible sadness clogs my throat. He must be so worried about losing him. "Does he have good doctors? He should take special vitamins and eat a healthy diet. Has he tried acupuncture?"
He nods. "We've tried most of that. It helps. He won't do acupuncture."
"Oh." I step up behind him and place my hand flat between his shoulders. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right." He's being strong but his head is down and he's not looking at me. He pours the pasta shells out into a colander and scoops a clump on each of our plates before sprinkling parmesan and salt over them. "Bring this one to him." He hands me a plate and takes the other two plates out to Henry with some forks.
We eat the simple meal and chat about lots of things. The Round Table Gauntlet. He thinks Foster should enter thecompetition too. The dog who ran with us at the beach, Blizzard. Henry says he would have liked for Foster to bring him home. Foster's fighting. He's very proud of him for all his wins, but worries he'll get hurt. His wife Sherry. He loved her like crazy and he's been sad since he lost her.
Henry's eyes drift closed and he slows down.
"Let's get you to bed." Foster helps him up and walks him into the first bedroom in the hallway. I wait in the kitchen because Henry might need his privacy as Foster helps him get ready for bed.
When Foster returns, he leans his shoulder against the doorframe and he's grinning at me, but there's a tired sadness in his eyes.
"This is hard for you."
"Yeah. I don't mind. He took care of me. I take care of him." He shrugs like it's not a big deal but taking care of a sick person can be draining. "He likes you."
That makes me smile. "I like him too."
"C'mon." He holds out his hand and I take it. He leads me down the hallway to the master bedroom. His room is starkly different from the professionally decorated living room. All the surfaces in here are covered with trophies. Gold men kicking high over their heads, tigers growling, round gold medals on red, white, and blue fabric. He has racks of belts tied in knots hanging on the walls along with posters from Kung Fu movies, Karate Kid, Fight Club, Jean-Claude VanDamme and several other Chinese movies with ninjas and fighters.
"Wow. This room you decorated yourself."
He glances at the wall. "Yep."
I walk over to the windows and look out at the Hudson. "Such a pretty view."
He stands behind me and his heat hits my back. "Mmm-hmm." His fingers brush my hair aside and his warm lips land on my neck causing a tickle that raises goosebumps on my arms. I stay still because the way the city is looking in on us and we are looking out feels significant. It's like our worlds have finally meshed after watching him from the other side of the glass for so long. He wraps his hands around my waist and curls in close until every inch of his front is enmeshed into my back and I'm shrouded in his powerful frame.
Chapter 16 Mine
His soft lips wander down my neck to the edge of my shoulder as he nudges the fabric of my dress aside to taste my skin in the most reverent way. When his fingers around my hip twist in the fabric of my dress, a soft mewl escapes my lips and my knees falter. How can he be so gentle and rough at the same time? How can his touch set my skin ablaze with the ghost of a kiss on my shoulder?
I begin to turn to face him but his arms tighten to stop me. "No. Stay like this."
I'm not sure why he wants it, but I turn back to the window and look out at the city lights, my chest tightening as my skin anticipates his touch.
His mouth continues its trek down my arm, his hands gripping my hips to hold me in place.
His hands leave my hips and he brushes my hair away. I bite my lip as he works the zipper of my dress down and the fabric loosens. He's going frustratingly slow and I want to touch him, but he's asked me to do this for some reason so I'm going with it.
He kisses down my back as he lowers the dress and slips it off my arms. I step out and now I'm only wearing a champagne silk bra and panties and my taupe wedge heels. I'm not sure if anyone can see me standing half-naked at the window.The other apartments all seem to have closed windows, but there's nothing to stop someone looking in from their balcony.
"Hands on the glass." His husky command vibrates on my skin and my hands move to the window of their own will. How could I refuse Foster anything he wants? "Good."
