Valentine’s Day
REESE WISHED THE ONE DAY of the year set aside for lovers took place in March. It would help him out a lot if he could talk Saint Valentine into switching places on the calendar with Saint Patrick, just this once. Maybe Hallmark wouldn’t appreciate it, or the flower or chocolate industries, but he could really use an extra month before the big day meant for romance and love—all the stuff he’d had a couple of days ago, before Amanda had walked out of his house.
All the stuff he intended to have again. With her.
It had been hell watching her go. But the minute he’d walked into the kitchen and seen the sad, resigned expression on her face, he’d known she was leaving. He could do nothing but let her, not because of that “If you love something set it free” bullshit, but because he knew her well enough to know there was no point trying to talk her out of it.
As he’d gone upstairs, he’d briefly hoped that seeing how calmly he’d taken it—even though inside he’d been a churning mass of anger, frustration and want—she would realize she was making a mistake and change her mind. Hearing her come up to gather her things, he’d waited in the bathroom, not in the running shower, but standing right on the other side of the closed door. Half wondering if she’d knock. Pretty sure she wouldn’t.
She hadn’t.
As strong as she was, Amanda wasn’t the type to make important decisions on the spur of the moment. She was the retreat-consider-evaluate-then-cautiously-edge-forward type.
He only wished he was able to give her more time to sit in Chicago considering, evaluating, before edging back in his direction. That’s why it would have been better if Valentine’s Day were a month away. With one month to think about it, he knew—without a doubt—that she’d be calling, e-mailing or showing up on his doorstep.
Maybe not for emotional reasons. Not for commitment and marriage and a lifetime together. It could be just because she wanted him, and would send him an invitation to come to D.C. to play a game of senator and naughty aide. Sex. Not love. She was as sexually addicted to him as he was to her, and within thirty days, she’d be jonesing for the kind of hot, wild intimacy the two of them had shared from day one.
So, yeah. She’d call, or write or text.
And he’d go.
It was okay. She could use him to satisfy her deepest needs, because he knew he’d be filled with the same hunger for her. And their game would begin again.
Mainly, however, he’d go because deep down, he knew that one of these days, she was going to finally figure out she loved him, too.
She did love him, of that he had no doubt. Amanda just hadn’t acknowledged it yet. Or else she had come up with a million reasons why it couldn’t work and had decided not to let herself love him.
That was okay, too. He didn’t need her to say the words. Sex was enough to intertwine their lives until she was ready, and in a month, she’d be dying for it.
“Curse you for being born in February, St. Valentine,” he muttered.
Because while thirty days would have done the trick, five might not be enough. In the short time since she’d left, she might have gotten just a little edgy, but she was stubborn. She could probably hold out longer than that, no matter how incredible the sex between them had been during those nights when she’d slept in his bed.
He had no choice, though. It was February 14, and the romantic in him just couldn’t let the day pass without at least giving his best shot at seduction. For the first time in his life, he was in love with the right woman on Valentine’s Day. He had to do something about it.
And that was why he was sitting on a plane that was right now landing at O’Hare Airport. He’d booked the best room he could get on such short notice at an exclusive Chicago hotel. Tonight, he would either be there with her, reminding her she’d made the right choice in showing up.
Or he would be sitting in it alone, tossing a box of chocolates into the trash, watching the rose petals strewn all over the bed wilt, and wishing he hadn’t wasted a case of champagne by pouring it into the bathtub. Not to mention regretting the oysters he’d already ordered from room service.
He was definitely hoping for option A.
Fortunately, he had an accomplice in his plan to whisk Amanda away for a night of sexy romance. As much as he’d hated to do it, he’d gotten in touch with Aunt Jean and asked her who at Clear-Blue Air would be the best person to ask for inside info on Amanda’s schedule. This Ginny woman she’d recommended had been extremely helpful, either because she liked his great-aunt, or she loved her employer. Maybe a combination of both.
From what the woman had said, he had a few hours before Amanda returned to Chicago from her day trip to Cincinnati. A few hours to check into the room, set the scene, then call her and ask her if she had the nerve to see him again this soon.
Asking her probably wouldn’t do it. Daring her just might.
All those things churned through his mind as he followed the long stream of passengers off the plane and into the terminal. One more thought occurred to him, too: if this didn’t work, he might just have to come back next month and check out the green river and a few Chicago pubs. Amanda would look cute as hell in a leprechaun hat. Or sexy as hell if it was all she was wearing.
Smiling at that thought, he headed not for the taxi stand, but rather toward the offices of Clear-Blue Air. He’d told Ginny he would come by when he arrived, just to touch base and make sure Amanda’s schedule hadn’t changed. He probably could have called for the information, but he suspected the woman wanted to check him out.
Speaking of calling … phone. As he walked, he tugged his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. A quick glance at the bars confirmed he had no reception. So maybe Ginny wasn’t sneaky and a hopeless romantic, just used to spotty service inside the airport. Though, it could be both.
Making his way through Security, who had his name on the list of authorized visitors to the office wing, he followed the directions Ginny had given him. The airport was huge, he’d always known that. But he’d never imagined the amount of space the public never saw. The hallway seemed to go on for blocks.
Of course the Clear-Blue office was at the end of that hallway. His steps quickened as he realized what time it was. He’d figured this errand would take a few minutes…. It had been thirty since he’d stepped off the plane.
When he was finally within a few feet of the door, he saw it open from the inside. He stepped out of the way to let the person out, not really paying attention. At least, not until a woman emerged. The very woman he did not want to see, at least not until tonight.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered as all his plans went up in smoke.
Amanda stared at him, wide-eyed, wide-mouthed, not saying a word. She probably feared he’d turned into some psycho stalker.
“Hey,” he said softly, wondering if she’d duck back into the office and avoid him altogether.
Instead, she did something far more shocking. Something that rocked him where he stood.
Without a single word, Amanda dropped the small overnight case she’d been carrying, stepped toward him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him like she hadn’t seen him in at least … a month.
HE WAS HERE. She couldn’t believe he was really here, that he’d come to Chicago for her for Valentine’s Day.
Kissing Reese, feeling the warmth of his body, inhaling his scent and reliving all the pleasures of his mouth, she found tears rising to her eyes. She loved him, she’d missed him. And she had finally found the man who might give her the freedom to fly when she needed to, but would always be waiting for her when she got back. Or else he’d simply come after her.
Finally, their kiss ended and she smiled up at him. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes in confusion, he said, “You’re supposed to be in Cincinnati.”
A quick stab of worry made her ask, “Oh, God. You didn’t expect me to be here? You didn’t come here to see me?”
He threw back his head and laughed, tightening his arms around her waist. “Crazy woman, of course I came here to see you. But I had this big seduction plan all worked out and you didn’t give me as much as an hour to get over to the hotel and set it all up.”
“There’s a couch in my office,” she said, her tone dry. “For you and me, that’s about all it would take.”
“True.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, murmuring, “But I want to give you more than that.”
She sighed, turning her face up so her soft cheek brushed his rough one. “I guess that’s okay, then. Ginny’s desk is right outside my door.”
“Hotel it is.”
Sounded just fine to her. Anxious to go, to be alone with him somewhere so she could tell him about all the wild thoughts that had gone on in her head, and the wilder feelings that had her ready to burst emotionally, she slipped out of his arms and bent down to grab her overnight bag. He took it from her, slinging it over his shoulder with his own.
She didn’t argue—it wasn’t much of a burden, because there wasn’t much in it. A silky red teddy, a pair of thigh-high stockings. Just the necessities. Not what she typically packed for working trips, because she most definitely had not been on her way to Cincinnati when she’d run into him. Ha! No wonder Ginny had kept looking at the clock and stalling her with inane questions. She’d been worried Amanda would fly to Pittsburgh while Reese was flying here.
“So why aren’t you somewhere in or over Ohio?” he asked as they began walking toward the terminal, his arm around her waist, their hips and thighs brushing with every step.
“I had someone else take my flight,” she told him. “Too flipping cold in Ohio.”
Even as he laughed at that, given the fact that it had to be ten-below-cold-as-shit here in Chicago, he jiggled the overnight bag. “So where were you headed?”
There was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if he knew the answer. Well, of course did. He knew she’d been coming to see him. He hadn’t realized it before he’d arrived here, obviously, but once he’d seen her, once she’d thrown her arms around him and kissed him with all the love she felt for the man, how could he not know she’d want to be with him on this of all holidays?
“Where do you think, hotshot?”
“Daytona? It’s certainly warmer.”
“Not as hot as Pittsburgh.”
He stopped when she confirmed it, turning her in his arms so he could kiss her again. This time it wasn’t sweet and soft, but deep and hungry, as if he’d been thinking about her since the minute she’d left his house, wanting her all that time.
Or maybe she was projecting how she’d been thinking and feeling. Whatever. All she knew was the man’s sweet mouth was covering every millimeter of hers and she never wanted it to end.
Finally, though, because a nearby office door opened and voices intruded, it did.
“Let’s get out of here,” she whispered, looping her arm through his and leading him back toward the terminal. “I think we have some talking to do.”
But not yet. She didn’t want to have any deep, important conversation as they walked through the public area of the airport. It was filled with travelers frantic to make their destinations and groaning their way through the long lines at Security.
Since “I’m sorry, I was stupid and I love you” was out, she used the time to fill him in on something a little less personal.
“You’re not going to believe the phone call I got this morning.” She had intended to tell him about it when she saw him at his place tonight. At least, as long as he let her in the front door.
Not that it would have stopped her if he hadn’t. She already knew one of his windows didn’t lock right—thank goodness their visitor from Las Vegas hadn’t realized it.
“From who?”
“Officer Parker. I guess he was really curious why a sleazy thug would follow us all the way to Chicago, and then Pennsylvania, if he hadn’t really dropped the jewelry he’d stolen.”
Reese eyed her in interest. “Did he have any theories about what happened to it?”
“Yep. Turns out the store owner was apparently just as sleazy. Our friend Teddy had dropped his bag of goodies that night—right outside the door of the shop. The owner found it, hid it, then filed a false insurance claim. Parker got him to confess the whole thing.”
Reese nodded, appearing as relieved as she had been at the news. “So no more worrying about Mr. Lebowski.”
“Correct.” Smiling, she added, “Which means you don’t have to update your garden gnome for a .357 Magnum.”
He chuckled, and a companionable silence again fell between them. It continued as they reached her car and got in it, neither saying much of anything once he’d given her the name of the hotel where they were staying. It was as if he already knew she had a lot to tell him, and didn’t want that conversation to start until they were completely alone. She wanted no distractions caused by nosy onlookers, or the need to keep her hands on the wheel.
Besides, a little silence was good. She needed the drive time to put everything into words.
She’d figured she’d have a few hours before arriving on his doorstep in Pittsburgh, armed with a coffee can in one hand, and a teabag in the other. “Coffee, tea or me?” had seemed like a good opening line. Getting him to smile might ensure he didn’t slam the door in her face for being such a cowardly bitch and running out on him the other morning without giving him the courtesy of an explanation.
Finally, they arrived at the hotel. She whistled as they walked into the lobby, duly impressed. The man was going all out for this little holiday getaway.
“Don’t get too excited,” he murmured as they approached the front desk. “I just made the reservation yesterday. They’re probably desperate to take advantage of every holiday sucker they can get, so we might end up sleeping in a tiny bed stuck inside a janitor’s closet.”
She laughed, but honestly didn’t care. As long as they could be alone, and a bed was in the vicinity, that was just fine with her.
A few minutes later, when they arrived at their room, she realized Reese needn’t have worried. Neither of them were laughing as they walked inside and looked around. Despite the last-minute reservation, the room was beautiful, with a huge, plush bed, elegant furnishings and enormous windows that looked down on bustling Michigan Avenue. She didn’t doubt he’d paid several times the rate it would have been on any other night of the year.
“Not bad,” he conceded.
“It’s amazing,” she whispered, not really talking about the room, but about one spot in it.
He had obviously been specific with his requests, because spread all over that plush, turned-down bed were what looked like hundreds of red rose petals.
“What game are we playing here?” she asked, suddenly a tiny bit cautious and wary.
This looked like wedding-night stuff. And while she’d mentally acknowledged she could not let Reese go without giving the feelings they had for one another a chance, she was in no way ready for rings and white veils.
Liar.
Okay, maybe the thought had crossed her mind. But only in a “someday, possibly” kind of way. Definitely not soon.
He accurately read her expression. “Don’t worry, if I wanted to play honeymoon, I would have whisked you off to one of those places in the Poconos with the heart-shaped beds and the raised, champagne-glass bathtubs.”
She punched him lightly in the arm, instinctively replying, “We are not spending our honeymoon in Pennsylvania!”
Only after the words had left her mouth did she realize what she’d said. And acknowledged the implications.
Seeing the warmth in his eyes, she put a hand up. “Wait. That’s not what I meant. I’m not saying …”
“Would you shut up?” he asked, sweetly, tenderly. He lifted a hand to her face, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “Just stop thinking about it, stop talking about it and love me.”
It was as simple as that.
She nodded, rising on tiptoe to press her lips against his. Just as sweetly, just as tenderly. When the kiss ended, she kept her arms around his neck and stared into his handsome face. “I do love you.”
“I know.”
She kissed him again. “I shouldn’t have run out the other day without admitting it.”
“I understand why you did.”
Her brow furrowing, she lowered her arms and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the flower petals. “You do?”
He pulled a chair closer and sat opposite her, bending over with his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his parted legs. His expression was serious as he said, “All the difficulties you’re sure we have can be dealt with. My family, your family, our jobs, our homes. That whole geography thing they no longer teach in schools.”
He didn’t have to go on. She had already realized none of those problems really mattered. They could be worked out. In fact, she’d already talked to her uncle about modifying her work schedule so she could, as Jazz had suggested, commute out of Pittsburgh.
Uncle Frank had been incredibly supportive once he’d found out why. Urging her not to let his own bad example lead her to a life as lonely as his, he’d offered to do whatever it took to accommodate her.
“Reese, I …”
“Let me finish, please.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he completely bared his heart to her.
“I love you. And after we talked the other night in the car, I realized life is just too damned precarious not to be with the person you love.”
She understood. Those very same thoughts had crossed her mind the other morning … only she’d taken the cowardly way out of having to deal with any future pain, loss and heartache. She’d cut and run. Reese was far more daring, willing to risk whatever happened tomorrow for the good things they could have today.
That kind of emotional bravery at least entitled him to the whole truth. “I didn’t leave because I was scared for myself, but because I was afraid for you.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Reese. I love you too much. I’ve just grown used to the idea that I’m destined to hurt men because I’m not cut out for relationships.”
He shook his head. “That’s crazy, you wouldn’t …”
“I know that now. Sitting at home for the past few nights, going over it in my mind, I realized all those failed relationships I wasn’t cut out for had one thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“They weren’t with you.”
He pulled her off the bed into his arms, settling her into his lap. Amanda cuddled against him, sucking up his heat and his essence, then said, “How can any loving relationship work if only one person is actually in love?”
“It can’t.”
“Exactly. And once I realized that, once I acknowledged that I have never been in love with anyone until now, I was finally able to let it go. The guilt, the regret, the shame.”
He squeezed her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Tell that to Facebook,” she mumbled. But she quickly thrust the thought aside. No room for darkness now, there was only light and happiness, passion and possibility. Love.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she admitted, to both of them. “I just don’t fall in love easily.”
“Neither do I.”
“Which means neither one of us is going to fall out of it easily, right?”
He kissed the top of her head, vowing, “Neither one of us is going to fall out of it at all.”
He couldn’t know that. No one could know such a thing. But she believed him. With all her heart, with every instinct she owned, she believed him.
“I can’t promise not to be insensitive and self-absorbed sometimes,” she warned. “Can’t say I’ll never do something selfish and hurt you.”
“Well,” he replied after giving it some thought, “I can’t say I’ll always remember to put the toilet seat down or not squeeze from the middle of the toothpaste tube.”
She laughed softly.
He thought about it some more. “I can’t promise to let you handcuff me the next time we play cops and robbers … but I might agree to a few silk scarves.”
Her laughter deepened, as she knew he’d meant it to. Then Reese got more serious.
“I can’t say I’m never going to work late. Or that I won’t sometimes just need to be alone with my thoughts. Some days of the year my mood will be dark and I won’t want to talk about it.”
Hearing that hint of sadness she’d heard in his voice the other night, she understood that. Completely.
“Okay. But I can’t promise I’m not going to try to kidnap you away from work once in a while so I can fly us to Aspen to do a little skiing.”
He grinned. “That sounds great. Especially because I can’t promise we won’t have one or another of my PMS-ing sisters calling in the middle of the night because she had a fight with her boyfriend and needs a ride.”
His family was part of his life. She knew that. The way he cared for them was one thing she loved best about him. Still, the memory of their first meeting intruded. Nibbling her lip, she asked, “Do they all hate me?”
“No! Not one little bit. In fact, two of my sisters showed up at my place last night asking me why I hadn’t left yet to come here and win you back.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Though she hadn’t wanted to admit it, the idea of a wedding had, indeed, flitted around in her mind once or twice. She’d immediately done her Amanda-thing and started worrying about how she could handle having bridesmaids who hated her guts in her wedding party.
Plus Jazz. Plus her sister, Abby. Oh, Lord.
Not thinking about that now.
“You should also know, my mother called to apologize and asked me to tell you that despite her behavior that first night, she would not be a Monster-In-Law. Which is true—she’s sad lately, but she’s never been pushy or tried to interfere in my life before. I’ve been the one hovering.”
“That’s because you’re a good man,” she whispered.
A really good, funny, sexy man.
A man she deserved.
For the first time, she allowed herself to believe it was possible. She could make the right man happy. She did deserve him.
Reese was that right man.
Though the rose petals beckoned, and she truly wanted to slip out of her clothes, and get him out of his, so they could express their love in the most elemental, sensual way possible, she had to add one more thing. One more promise, that she intended to keep.
“I won’t ever run from you, Reese.”
“Sure you will.” He smiled tenderly. “But I’ll always follow.”