Chapter Five

Beth kept quiet as Chris drove competently through the city and turned into a parking garage. The conversation on the way into the city had never lulled until the end. The man was easy to talk to, and she liked he was down-to-earth, even blunt. With her ex, she’d learned to monitor what she said in case it triggered a defensive reaction. Kyle had liked his ego stroked and to be told how wonderful he was. Frankly, it was mentally exhausting, and she didn’t plan to spend energy taking care of other people’s feelings ever again.

When she’d genuinely tried to compliment Chris for speaking Spanish, he’d dismissed it as nothing special. What he may not realize is, in general, Americans didn’t value being able to speak anything other than English. Teaching a foreign language was often a thankless task. Foreign language teachers were often harassed for giving tough grades and expecting students to learn the language they were studying.

Most kids in school only took a foreign language, a requirement for college, if they were planning to attend university, not because they wanted to learn a second language. Consequently, they never applied themselves to learning a new language, which was a challenging experience for most kids as they got older. Most kids ended up with poor test scores and low grades. Because the students were college bound, both parents and administration frequently pressured the foreign language teachers to inflate grades. She’d even had parents try to bribe her with coveted professional sports tickets, dinner gift cards, expensive holiday gifts. It had been one of the most frustrating aspects of her job. Kyle had told her to take the gifts and raise the grade. Make everyone happy. Especially him, when the tickets were for a Padres home game. She’d said no.

Chris had picked up a second language all on his own, and she sincerely admired him for it. True, he probably didn’t read or write it, but she bet his employees appreciated the effort to meet them at their linguistic crossroads by speaking it.

Chris parked his truck in a multi-level parking garage and turned off the vehicle.

“The restaurant is a couple of blocks away.”

“Great,” she told him. “I like downtown Santa Fe. The city is one of the reasons I moved to New Mexico.”

They both got out of the truck and met around the back, where Chris offered his arm, like a gentleman, even though he wore a scowl.

Beth suppressed a smile. She’d noticed he’d tried to get around to open her door, but she wasn’t bothered about that kind of thing. Sure, if they approached a door together, it would be nice and polite of a man to hold it open for her, but she had no issue with doing the same for a man, if she reached the door first. Chris didn’t seem the courtly type. Maybe he was making a special effort for her.

“These streets and sidewalks are pretty uneven in places,” he warned her, “and I don’t want you to trip or twist your ankle in those pretty shoes.”

“Oh,” Beth said, just as her heel caught on a gap in the concrete. He waited for her to free her heel, check the damage, of which there was little, and start walking again, taking more care to watch where she stepped.

He shifted his arm around her back, pulling her close.

“I could carry you,” he murmured down into her ear as they passed a large family coming from the other direction.

“I don’t fancy hanging upside down over your shoulder, my ass in your face,” she replied in an equally low tone.

“Now that paints a pretty picture,” he teased, grinning at her, his humor returning.

Beth shook her head and rolled her eyes in playful exasperation. The idea of being carried by Chris appealed to her in ways she’d never expected. She’d have to watch herself with this guy. He could play the charming seducer as easily as the rough caveman. The idea they could play together both unsettled and excited her. So far, she was thoroughly enjoying herself in his company. Things felt easy with him. She realized she wasn’t continuously monitoring his behavior and what he said, then modifying her own to match. Getting older and wiser had its perks.

The restaurant was located in an adobe-style building with ironwork railings and a hand-crafted wooden door. Several pieces of original sculpture forged from iron, lit from below, were displayed along the walk into the restaurant, casting an interesting shadow across the bright white surface of the building’s plastered finish.

“I hope you like fancy New Mexican food,” Chris told her, opening the wrought-iron gate to the pathway leading into the restaurant. “I’m told this is one of the best in Santa Fe.”

It was, since it was one of her favorite restaurants in the world. Briefly, Beth closed her eyes and imagined her past, and then opened them to compare what she remembered with what remained. Inside, the floor was still covered in rustic Spanish tiles, and the entry walls were tiled in familiar bright yellow and blue graphic Mexican tiles. Inside the dining area, the tables were dressed in crisp white tablecloths, lit candles, gleaming glassware and hammered cutlery. The walls showcased large, beautiful Southwest-themed works of art, some the same, some different from her last visit four years ago, all painted in bold colors and strokes. Upbeat mariachi music played in the background, and the familiar smells of spicy, tangy cooking permeated the air.

Beth didn’t know whether to tell Chris that Flor del Sol was, hands down, one of her favorite restaurants in the world, or not. Whenever she’d traveled to Santa Fe in the past, she’d been sure to have at least one meal in the landmark establishment during her stay. The fact it was the first place he was taking her felt serendipitous. The last time she’d eaten here, Kyle had been in a cruel mood, finding fault with what she wore, what she ordered, what she said. It had tainted her memories of the place.

She’d forgotten that miserable night until she came through the door again, but being here with Chris on a first date felt like a do-over. A chance to replace bitter memories with new happy ones. She couldn’t keep the glow of pleasure from her face when she turned towards him and the hostess as they were about to be seated.

“This is perfect,” she told Chris, sliding her arm through his. Although the lighting was dimmed, she thought he blushed. He shrugged.

“Like I said, the place comes highly recommended. I’ve only eaten here once, and it was years ago.”

As soon as they were seated—Chris taking the time to pull out her chair himself—the server appeared and took their drink order.

“Two top shelf margaritas on the rocks sound good?” he asked.

“Sounds great. Be sure to salt the rim.” The server left to get their order.

“God, the smells are amazing. I’m warning you already I am going to overindulge,” Beth said as she opened her menu. Everything looked delicious. She also noticed the prices were as steep as she remembered. She’d never worried about ordering $30.00 appetizers or $60 courses when she and Kyle ate out. He made a lot of money in his work, and they’d indulged in nice vacations, nice dinners, nice cars and a nice house with a sea view in one of the most expensive cities in the country. A few times, they’d even spent more than a grand on a single meal and drinks up in Napa Valley. For the first time in years, she got cost-conscious. Even if Chris owned his own business, it didn’t mean he made the money Kyle did.

She fidgeted in her seat, straightening the knife so it aligned with the spoon, and moving the water glass to the right to make room for the ordered margarita.

“You know, since we just met, I don’t expect for you to buy my meal.”

The look on Chris’ face went from surprise to a deep scowl.

“You think I’d take you somewhere out of my budget?”

She gulped. “Ah, no…”

“Beth, I know I don’t drive a fancy car or wear expensive clothes, but I own my business and make a good living. I don’t cotton to all that posturing and putting on airs. I may not have eaten in this restaurant much, but it doesn’t mean I couldn’t eat here every damn night, if I wanted.”

Beth reached out and placed her hand over his, which had gone from relaxed to a tense fist on the table. She’d clearly insulted him.

“Chris, please. I didn’t mean that. I…I’m not sure I’m worth this kind of investment.”

If possible, Chris’s scowl got darker. “You better explain carefully so I can understand what it is you’re trying to say.”

Beth took a deep breath. “I recently divorced—”

“You said you’ve been split up for almost three years.”

“Yes. And I am over my ex and the marriage, mostly. What I’m trying to say, badly it seems, is I’m not sure what I want. I mean, I moved to New Mexico so I could afford to write and live on my pension. And I love living in my own place, somewhere all mine, for the first time ever.”

“You were living with your ex while you were getting a divorce?”

“No, but I stayed in the house we’d lived in for fifteen years until the divorce was final and it sold.”

“Okay.”

“I’m shockingly attracted to you, but I was imagining my life, at least for a few years ahead, to be lived independently, to be sort of, all about me. I certainly didn’t plan to go on a date the first week I got here.”

Chris’s scowl eased, and he swapped their hands so his rested protectively over hers.

“A date doesn’t mean you’re trapped in a relationship,” he told her gently. His face darkened again, as he seemed to think of something else. “And it sure as hell doesn’t mean you have to give out once I’ve paid for your meal.”

Beth looked up at him through her eyelashes. She’d been admiring the size and strength of his hand cupped over hers.

“Hell,” he cursed again, “You’re on a date with someone who’s never even been in a relationship. I doubt I’m a threat to your single life.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

He shook his head, but his frown softened back into a straight face. The guy could hide his feelings if he chose to.

“But you’ve dated. Or…been on multiple dates with a woman, right?”

“Not in at least thirty years.”

“Are you telling me this is going to be our only date? I mean, this is a date, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t care if we went Dutch.”

At that moment, the server returned with their drinks, and they moved back, their hands parting, to allow the server to place the margaritas on the table.

“Were the two of you ready to order?”

Chris shook his head. “Can you give us a few more minutes to decide? I’ll wave you over.”

“Of course,” the young woman said, politely stepping back and moving away. “I’ll watch for your signal.”

They both picked up their drinks and Beth was about to take a gulp when Chris reached across the table and clinked his glass against hers.

“To investing in more than one date,” he said, staring hard into her eyes.

Beth sipped her drink, unable to look away. The man had beautiful pale gray eyes, with deep laugh lines fanning out across deeply tanned skin. This was a man who enjoyed life, who lived in the moment. She wanted to be the enjoyment in this moment.

She choked slightly on the salty rim of the glass.

“You were saying,” he prompted her.

Beth set her drink down and reclined back in her seat, studying him.

“What if I’m not ready to date seriously?” She asked him.

“I’d do my best to convince you otherwise.”

“In what way?” Was he controlling? Was he like Kyle? It would be her luck she’d go for the same type of guy again.

Chris stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“I don’t know much about wooing a woman. Like I said, I’ve never tried to win a woman’s affection, not once in my life.”

He picked up her hand and laced their fingers together, studying his scarred knuckles against her pale fingers and polished nails. He shifted the angle of his hold so he could lightly, reverently, caress her palm and inside wrist, sending shivers of pleasure up her arm.

He kept his voice low, seductive.

“I know how to fuck and give a woman screaming orgasms. But only when she’s ready and asking for it.”

Beth’s breath hitched, and he looked up at her from under his eyebrows with an almost questioning expression, were it not for the way the candle’s flame made it look like the devil danced in his eyes. She didn’t know what to say.

“That’s where I’d start, anyway. See what else I can think up. I’m pretty sure I’m going to want more than one night with you.”

When she still didn’t say anything, he squeezed her hand and let her go.

“What are you thinking, Beth?”

“I’m thinking we should order dinner and I should let you pay.”

The smile of approval on Chris’s face transformed his whole look, and Beth couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was shaky.

He waved the server back over.

“You said you wanted to over-indulge tonight. Do you trust me to order for both of us?”

Beth narrowed her eyes in pretend suspicion at him, but continued to smile.

“Yes.”

The server reached their table.

“How much is the chef’s tasting menu tonight?” he asked.

“$200 per person without the wine pairing and $300 per person with it.”

Beth had immediately drooled over the seven-course offering when she’d opened the menu, but had decided it would be too much food, and too pricey for a first date. It started with spicy grilled shrimp, before proceeding through four seafood plates and then duck mole, and finishing with a Mexican chocolate dessert.

Chris quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Would you be okay without the wine pairing, since we have a long drive back?” He looked her over. “And I don’t want you too drunk for my first date kiss.”

She blushed.

“Of course.”

“Good.” He turned to the server, who was comically fanning herself with the menu, having heard what Chris said to her.

“We’ll both have the chef’s tasting menu, and the lady will have whatever wine she wants with the meal.”

“I love serving a couple falling in love,” the server sighed, waltzing away with the menus and a spring in her step.

Beth studied Chris’ face at the server’s comment to see if it made him uncomfortable, but his eyes only confirmed the chemistry flaring up between them. He seemed to study her reaction as closely. The sexual tension built as their eyes met and held until she looked down to take another sip of her margarita. Bon Dieu. The temperature in the restaurant had definitely risen to the point of being uncomfortably warm.

Chris had to admit the price of the meal had been worth it. The food was excellent, and watching Beth moan over bites of fish and sauce, and at the end, a decadent chocolate mousse, had him hard as stone. He fully intended to hear those sounds again while he eventually feasted on her in bed. Not tonight, but soon. Though he’d originally planned on earning a fast invitation directly into her bed when he’d asked her out, during the drive into Santa Fe, he’d realized that wasn’t the point of this date. Sure, he still wanted to get that invitation, but only after he’d earned her trust. Their physical chemistry was off the charts, so the sex was going to be good, but he was wondering what would happen if the sex included an emotional connection as well. And, though he was inexperienced on relationships, he knew that type of connection had to take time for a woman.

Their conversation over the food had been a combination of flirting, story-telling, and laughter. There hadn’t been a dull moment. She told funny stories about being a teacher, and he’d entertained her with some of the crazy things that had happened on job sites while building everything from retail to residential structures. He told her about his dogs. It was only as the meal drew to an end they’d lapsed into contented companionship. He couldn’t remember a night he’d enjoyed himself more.

Sated with the meal, and for Beth, two glasses of wine, they were quiet on the drive back to Agua Pecos. The radio played contemporary country music softly in the dark. Chris felt a comfortable sense of peace and contentment. The only other time he’d felt anything like it was when he’d finished a challenging building project, or he was heading out for a long ride on his Harley.

Beth didn’t talk or try to fill up the quiet with shallow chitchat. Chris appreciated that about her. She looked over at him and smiled happily before turning to take in the night desert, lit by a waxing moon approaching its lunar state.

The last time he’d spent an hour alone with a woman was at the clubhouse. Decent women, mostly guys’ old ladies, showed up for family-friendly events, but they didn’t come around much on the weekends. Those party nights were about carousing, drinking, and releasing tension with casual sex, and the women who came those nights had sex, the hard and fast kind, on their minds. For some reason, they got off being used by strangers.

The last time he went to the clubhouse—shit, had it been almost three months?—the younger woman who’d targeted him for sex had practically gabbed nonstop through the whole encounter, even when he had her bent over a couch, her skirt shoved up and his cock slamming her from behind. She was a cheerful person, with excellent tits, but she wouldn’t stop talking about things he didn’t give a rat’s ass about, like how hard it was to find a good hair stylist, and how she was looking for a new job because her boss wouldn’t give her Fridays off when she wanted them. In fact, he’d struggle to stay hard, and he’d eventually pulled out in the state of going soft, and passed her along to a fellow biker, saying he couldn’t enjoy sex and give job advice at the same time. A buddy had laughed and taken his place, claiming he never listened to what women said so she could talk about whatever she wanted. The girl hadn’t minded the trade-off one bit. That’s how impersonal the encounter had been. He never wanted Beth to know those kinds of details about his life. She’d be horrified.

To be honest, Chris didn’t know if he hadn’t been back to the club because he’d grown tired of the sex and partying, or whether his embarrassment at losing an erection for the first time in his life had scared him clear of the place. Every day, he’d promised himself he’d make an appointment with the doctor, but every day, he found an excuse to postpone it. Some of his other buddies had stopped going to the clubhouse weekend parties years ago, and not all because they got married. They’d tired of the scene faster than he had, or they’d run into the same issue he was experiencing, a limp dick. Most of them were in their 50s now.

Of course, seeing Beth get out of her car at the truck stop had sparked his desire for the first time since he couldn’t remember. Running into her at the DMV allowed him to briefly touch and smell her, confirming his physical attraction. Then the run in at the grocery store, where he got to experience her sense of humor, sparked his interest in her as more than a potential hot fuck. Each time he saw her, his attraction to her intensified.

No matter how crudely he talked about sex with Beth, in truth, he wasn’t thinking about shoving up her skirt and fucking her over a couch. Well, not exclusively. Not every second. Certainly not in the company of other people. Some of his fantasies in the last week had been more leisurely, more private, more suited to all night in a big bed. In fact, the idea of being at the club where other guys might see Beth without her clothes on made him see red.

He’d fantasized about taking her to bed, alone, undressing her and putting his mouth on every inch of that fine skin, and then sliding into her as deep as he could go, and then rocking slow and steady, letting the tension in their bodies build little by little until her climax triggered his. He’d fantasized about waking her up in the middle of the night with his mouth and tongue between her legs, licking her until she moaned and screamed. He’d fantasized about her climbing onto his morning wood and riding it through the sunrise, into a new day. Whenever he smelled her clean, floral scent, he’d imagined taking her under the shower, against the slick tiles, her legs wrapped tight around his hips. None of his fantasies played out as a fast and furious fuck, yet. In fact, all of them required an extended, full night—shit, even the whole weekend—of intimacy.

Were his fantasies about her different because Beth was a class act? Had his mother’s lifelong efforts to raise a man who respected women finally pay off? Did Beth’s refined beauty and elegant manner make him want to step up and be a gentleman for the first time in his life? Or was it something even deeper? A desire to get something more than hot and sweaty sex from the woman?

He was aware enough to know he wanted to impress her, make love to her, not engage in a mutual, consenting—but ultimately empty—exchange of two people using each other to get off. He’d imagined cuddling up with Beth on the sofa, his dogs lounging at their feet, while they watched a fucking movie. Jesus. If he was imagining them watching a cliched, sappy chick flick, he was losing it.

He stole a glance at Beth and realized she’d dozed off, her head lolling off to the side against the passenger window. He snorted. While he was having a mid-life crisis, she was taking a nap. Figured.

He snuck looks at her the rest of the way back to their road. She was a quiet sleeper, breathing slow and steady through her nose. Her pale skin and long pale hair glinted like platinum in the moonlight, highlighting the silver strands. Like a Greek goddess at rest. He was a fucking poet now. She looked peaceful though, and Chris felt a surge of protective ownership rise in him, thinking about how she must trust him to fall asleep while he was driving. He liked the idea.

Trust was one of the most important values in the world to Chris. His friends trusted him to cover their asses and keep them out of trouble. His employees trusted him to treat them well, pay them even better. His clients trusted him to build safe, solidly constructed buildings that would weather the years. Chris’s daughter trusted him to help her out if she got into financial trouble or to show up if a guy threatened her. His mother and sisters trusted him. He’d never yearned for a woman’s trust.

To hold Beth’s trust within his reach, to know she put her safety and care into his hands? Somehow, that felt even more personal. Beth needed nothing from him. Beth didn’t depend on him. Her trust was a gift. The possibility he could lose the beginnings of her trust by fucking things up with Beth caused his chest to ache. The thought that he could deepen and expand her trust felt like a life calling. Not taking Beth to bed tonight was going to require all his self-control, but for the first time in his life, he wanted something more than he wanted a good time.

Turning from the highway onto the dirt road fronting their properties caused the truck to bounce, jostling Beth awake.

She stretched and yawned big, blinking her eyes into focusing on where they were.

“Oh my god, did I fall asleep on you? What a horrible date I am!”

She covered her cheeks with her palms, wiping away what might have been drool alongside her lips. He hid a smile. She flipped down the visor and inspected herself in the mirror. He wasn’t sure what she’d see in the low lighting.

“I didn’t snore, did I? Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

The woman used the word ‘gosh.’

“No snoring, but you did a lot of talking.”

She slapped his arm lightly.

“No, I did not! I do not talk in my sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what talking sounds like, even when it’s talking in one’s sleep,” he teased her.

“Okay. What did I talk about?”

“Well, that would be ungentlemanly of me to repeat. But let’s say it was accompanied by some moaning and restless shifting. I might have heard my name mentioned a few times.”

“What?! Okay, now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

Chris chuckled.

“You are an evil man, Christopher…Christian…Johnston.”

She had no idea. What would happen if she found out about the life he’d been leading, well, his whole damn life? He set that concern aside for the moment.

“It’s Christopher, if you must know. I’ve told you to call me Can-Can. And you’re cute when you’re sleeping.”

She shook her head in denial. “I haven’t been cute since I was sixteen.”

“Okay, you’re beautiful when you’re sleeping.”

“Chris…Can-Can, you know flattery will get you nowhere?”

He caught her hand in his because he couldn’t not touch her.

“Are you sure about that? I’ve heard women expect to be complimented by men.”

“I’m sure some women do, but I do not expect compliments unless I’ve earned them. Appearances aren’t something people have much control over. They’re an accident of birth.”

“So, you know you’re gorgeous.”

“I’m not gorgeous,” she squeaked. “I’ll have you know I was a late bloomer. A very late bloomer. I wore braces and glasses throughout middle and high school, and I was as scrawny as a scarecrow. My friends called me Slim-Jim throughout adolescence. I wasn’t able to shake the name until I went to university. I didn’t fill out until the second year of college, which is when I got asked out on my first date.”

Chris looked at her in disbelief, ignoring his driving and letting the truck slow to a crawl before speeding up again, but not by much. He was in no hurry to end the night.

“Plus, I’m not gorgeous now either. I’m over 50, with gray hair and wrinkles. My chin and my arms are sagging.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop cataloguing your imperfections as if they make you less stunning. The first time I saw you, back at the cafe, you set my heart racing.”

“At the cafe?”

“Yeah, the cafe.”

“I thought we first met at the DMV.”

He grinned. “We met there, but I saw you, and your gorgeous ass, at the cafe.”

She flushed red in the low light, realizing something.

“You saw the wind blow up my skirt?”

He squeezed her hand, which he still held.

“And, lord, what a vision it was. I thought an angel had landed on earth from the heavens above.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Stop talking about it. I had hoped no one saw it happen.”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

She frowned at him. “And then you saw me at the DMV, recognized me, and came over to sit next to me.”

“Yep.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And the grocery store?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who came over to me that time.”

“You didn’t know I was there?”

“I didn’t, and I would have wanted to slap myself if I’d have missed you.”

“Sliding doors,” Beth murmured.

“What’s that?”

She shook her head. “It’s a saying. There was a film called Sliding Doors about a couple…never mind.”

She tugged her hand free. “Well, there’s my house ahead.”

Chris turned into her drive and navigated up to her front gate. He put the truck into park and shut off the engine.

Beth looked like she was about to bolt.

“Thank you for dinner. It was the best meal I’ve had in a long time and I had a wonderful time.” She reached for the door handle.

“Don’t you dare,” he told her. “I’m coming ‘round to help you down this time and to walk you to the door. You didn’t leave the porch light on and I don’t want you stepping on any sleeping rattle snakes.”

“Uh…okay.”

Chris got out, circled the truck, and opened the passenger door. It was with great pleasure he put his hands around her waist and lifted her out of the truck, setting her down against his stomach, trapping her between him and the truck briefly before stepping back. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her up the steps and to her door.

Fortunately, there were no snakes lying about to ruin the end of the date. He waited as she dug out her keys, opened the door, and reached in to turn on the outside lights.

“So,” she shifted from foot to foot, “I’d invite you for a drink, but it’s late.”

“I agree. Do I get a goodnight kiss?” Who knew he could be a thoughtful gentleman? His mother would be so proud.

She bit her lip and looked up at him from under her long eyelashes. After a moment, she nodded.

All the invitation he needed. He cupped her face with his hands and tipped her lips up to his. He took his time, kissing her slowly and sensually. After a moment, her lips parted, and he slid his tongue in to tangle with hers, deepening the kiss into an act simulating sex. She moaned and slid her arms around his back and pressed up against him. He knew she could feel how hard he was against her stomach. No issues with his dick around Beth.

He ended the kiss as it was burning out of control. He brushed his thumb across her swollen bottom lip.

“God, you taste amazing. Better than any fancy meal.”

He enjoyed the dazed look on her face, but he stepped back and let her go.

“Good night, Gorgeous. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Then, against what every muscle and cell in his body clamored to do, he descended the steps, got in his truck, and drove home. It was going to be a challenge to live so close to her.