"What'd he want?"
"Me," she says with a look of disgust. "He keeps apologizing for the way he was and I keep ignoring him."
"Do you miss him?" I hate myself a little for asking. It makes me feel weak and insecure; two things I'm not accustomed to feeling.
"God, no," she scoffs. "I don't miss anything about that situation."
I wonder how she was with him in spite of knowing I shouldn't. Did she want him to hold her the way she wants me to? Did her eyes give him that same rapt attention? Did she ever want to tell him she loved him, whether she meant it or not? A low burning anger starts in the pit of my stomach. I know it's wrong to even think about her life with someone else, but he had a part of her, a part that he apparently still wants, and
that
is not okay with me.
"I just hate that I ever let him touch me. I hate that he was in my life before you."
I take her face in my hands and turn her back to me. "Listen, Carly. I was no angel before; I've told you that. You can't expect me to resent the fact that you had a past before me, even though the thought of that punk putting his hands on you makes me want to take his fucking head off. I don't care what you did before we met," I lie. "If you don't want him now, that's good enough for me."
"Jack," she starts to protest, but I kiss her quiet.
"Just let me kiss you," I mutter against her mouth. She smiles and her face relaxes as she gives in to me. I trace the line of her jaw with my finger and taste her.
"Do you have a rule against letting things just happen? On letting go?" I ask.
She hesitates with her eyes closed. "Yes," she finally says. "But you've broken all the others and I'm happy for it."
I reach into my pocket and pull out the little black box that's been burning a hole there all day. "Open your eyes," I say.
Carly does and they almost immediately close again in refusal. "What is that, Jack?" she asks breathlessly.
"Relax," I chuckle, taking her hand and putting it on top of the box. "It's not what you think, not yet anyway."
She opens her eyes again and looks at me. "What is it then?"
"Open it," I urge.
Carly looks at me skeptically and then lets her fingers flip open the box. She inhales and then closes it again with a snap.
"I just told you I can't ever repay you for this trip and you give me
diamonds
?"
"I remember how beautiful you looked in the earrings you borrowed from Claire and I want you to have your own."
She hugs the box to her chest and then grabs me, squeezing me so tightly against her that the box digs into my sternum.
"You're too good to be true," she whispers. "You crazy fucker."
Carly finally releases me and plants a big, hard kiss on my mouth. She holds the box out and opens it again, grinning at the earrings.
"Well, put 'em on," I say.
She smiles and pulls the small silver hoops from her ears. I watch as she fumbles with the big stones before finally getting them in her ear. They match the sparkle in her eyes.
"Stunning," I say.
Carly stands and runs to the big mirror that hangs in the living room of the cottage. She smiles at her reflection and then at me.
"They
are
beautiful," she says walking back toward me.
"I was talking about
you
," I say, pulling her into my arms. "But the earrings are nice, too." I kiss her softly and her lips move slowly against mine.
"I love you," I mutter in her ear. "Like there's no tomorrow."
"I love you, too, Jack. Like there's no tomorrow."
"There is this evening though," I say, cupping her ass in my hands. "And we have dinner reservations."
"What time?" she asks, running her tongue down my neck and nibbling at my skin. I shiver and my dick starts to stiffen.
I check my watch. "About two hours from now."
"Plenty enough time for me to give you a proper thank you," she purrs against my neck.
"Yeah, but I want you to save it for later," I say, much to her surprise.
"Why?" she asks.
"Well," I mutter as she continues to kiss my neck, "I want to make love to you."
Carly's eyes are sometimes so hard to read, but this time isn't one of them. I tip her chin up and kiss her softly. "I want to take it slow, make you feel me all the way through to your heart. I want to show you what you mean to me, the way you touch me. And not just this," I say, putting her hand on my rock hard cock, "but this." I put her other hand on my heart. "I want you to understand and accept that you're mine and I'm yours."
She folds herself into my arms and I hold her close enough to feel each breath she takes against my chest. It's something I hope I'll never take for granted; the love of a woman who completes me.
§
The night is chilly, but no wind blows to cut through our clothes as we walk the five minutes to The Barn for dinner. Carly's heels make a clicking sound on the cobble walkway as we make our way to the door. Low music drifts through the red walls. Warm light pours through the windows and shines out into the night.
The Barn is all naked wood and subtle sophistication. The exposed beams of wood seem to glow in the muted light offered by three medium sized chandeliers that hang in front of a long serving line. I admire the woodwork every time I come here and can't help but grin when Carly's eyes go wide once we're inside. She whispers how beautiful she finds it.
The roof forms a peak that’s dotted with small track lights to showcase the thick, carved beams that run out from the ceiling. I can faintly smell the wood underneath the layers of food.
I give the hostess my name, the whole time never letting go of Carly's hand. She has her hair up; something I haven't seen, exposing her graceful neck and sexy shoulders. She's wearing the same burgundy dress she wore the night we had our first real date and I catch myself staring at the swell of her breasts.
We follow the hostess to our table in the corner like I requested. The table is semi-private and decorated with two long candles burning on either side of a small arrangement of orange autumn roses.
I thank the hostess as I pull Carly's chair out for her. The lady smiles and retreats to her post by the door.
“
Geez, this place is gorgeous,” Carly leans in and whispers. She picks up the intricately folded napkin from her plate and places it in her lap, unable to stop looking around at the rustic beauty of The Barn.
“
It’s beautiful alright, but not as beautiful as you. You look amazing tonight.” I reach across the table and take her hand. I can’t even stand how beautiful she looks.
“
Thank you for saying that. And thank you again for bringing me here." She smiles and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. The diamonds glint in the low light. Her eyes are exaggerated by the color of her dress and I look into them like a fool.
“
It’s my pleasure,” I say, trying to force my eyes to look away. “And you’ll be my pleasure later,” I add. Heat rises to her cheeks and she blushes. It's irresistible.
“
I hope so,” she answers with a grin. Her nude lips are glossy and all I can think about is how she looks right now. She has an irresistible charm, hidden underneath a sweet shyness that comes and goes. Carly picks up her menu and starts to look through it before her eyes narrow.
“
What’s wrong?” I ask.
“
I’m just not sure what to order,” she admits. She chews her glossy lip a little in concentration.
“
Just play it safe and order the chicken dish. That’s what I do,” I confess. “It’s some of the best food in the South, so don’t really worry about what to order.” The waiter approaches and we both get the chicken. I ask for the wine list.
The waiter produces a small folded paper and hands it to me.
"I'll have a glass of brandy, please" Carly says. I love that she isn't afraid to drink something other than water. Rachel never drank and hated when I did.
"Just bring a bottle of Remy Martin," I say, handing the wine list back to the server. He nods and heads toward the bar.
"That's a $250 bottle of brandy, Jack," Carly informs me.
I shrug. "If you want brandy, I'll give you the best they have."
Carly looks around and I realize she's uncomfortable. "Jack, can I talk to you about something? Without insulting all the wonderful things you've done for me?"
"Of course," I say, suddenly finding it a little hard to swallow.
"I just," she looks up as though trying to sort out how best to continue, "I appreciate everything you've done; the trip, the earrings, the dinner. I just don't want you to think you have to do any of this for me. I'm perfectly happy at your house, on the couch, underneath a blanket watching a movie and sipping on a Bud Light."
I listen and watch as she chews at her bottom lip.
"Please don't be insulted, I love the earrings," her fingers go to them, "but you don't have to buy me things and spend a lot of money to show me you care. I'm not used to it, and to be honest, I don't know how to deal with it."
I take a second to try and figure out what I want to say to her. I don't want her to feel like this, like I'm trying to buy her affections. And as petty as it is, I want to do all the things for her that Nick never did.
"Carly, I just want to do things for you, because I love you. I never really showed my affection this way to anyone before, but I want to do it for you. If it really makes you uncomfortable, I'll curb my spending for a while. At least until you're used to it."
She smiles, but then almost immediately frowns. "I may not ever be used to it. We didn't have a lot growing up at my grandma's. Money was always tight and it's still tight, at least for me. I'm not accustomed to diamonds and $250 bottles of alcohol. I'm sorry."
I take her hand and pull it across the table and to my lips. "Don't be sorry, I get what you mean. I don't really think sometimes, I just do."
"I'm glad that's out there," she says, letting out a breath of air. "I kept feeling like I should say something about it, but I didn't wanna seem like an ungrateful bitch."
I kiss the back of her hand again and she smiles. "I could never think you were a bitch. Or ungrateful," I assure her.
"Oh, yes you could," Carly starts. "If you'd seen what I had to go through to get off work-" She's interrupted as the waiter arrives with the bottle of Cognac and two glasses of ice. He pours a little of the liquid and I notice it's the same color as Carly's eyes. He assures us our food will be out soon and once we assure him we don’t need anything else, he departs our table.
"What do you mean?" I ask as soon as he's out of earshot.
"My boss is a letch," she says, taking a sip of the brandy. She gives it an appreciative glance. "He didn't wanna let me have this weekend off, but I told him if he didn't, I'd have to report him for grabbing my ass."
"
He fucking touched you
?" Anger creeps up inside me like a beast. My fist clenches involuntarily.
"Yeah, but he's just a creep. He does it to all the girls. No one takes him seriously." Carly focuses on her glass, but I know she's worried that I won't let this go.