Page 19

I checked the Ulysse Nardin Freak Stimepiece on my wrist and frowned.

It was 6:57.

Clementine was almost late.

A dozen unlikely and equally terrifying thoughts drifted through my head.

What if something happened? What if she was hurt? Or sick? Or, God forbid, in an accident?

Fuck.

I was tempted to do the sign of the cross and that was something I hadn’t done since I got expelled from St. Al’s Prep two weeks shy of graduation for fighting.

Father Chekhov let me earn my diploma that summer, though, which was likely due to my mother showing up at his office and plying him with her famous oatmeal raisin cookies than it had to do with any concern from the priest on my part.

Still, I went through with it for her sake. Speaking of which, I owed my sister and mother a check in call soon.

They were living down the shore these days, and I didn’t get out there much. Siobhan, my older sister, took care of Mom now that her husband was gone.

He died early of prostate cancer, and she never had any kids. She worked at a library, but I sent them all the money they could ever need. They were tough, those women, but I supposed they had to be.

Tough but kind, too, where my father never had been.

Clementine was like that.

Sweet and brave. Bold in her honesty and frank speech. Damn, I really liked her.

I checked my watch again.

6:58.

She could just be caught in traffic. Traveling from Manhattan to Jersey City was a bitch at any time, day or night.

I was about to stand when a shadow fell across the pristine white tablecloth. My gaze flicked up and suddenly she was there.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.” She stood there and smiled, a little breathless with her cheeks pink from the cold.

I stood up and cupped her neck, dragging her to me for a hello kiss. It was something I had no intention of giving her until I found myself already moving towards her.

I couldn’t help it. It was like someone else was pulling my strings.

My emotions were everywhere.

I felt angry she’d cut it so close. Relieved that she was okay. And so fucking needy just to taste her vanilla orange essence burst across my tongue.

This pull was unavoidable. It was built of need and desire. Of desperation and hope.

I moaned as I held her even closer, wondering at the fierceness of my emotions.

She drew me in like a comet to the sun.

She was like that, too. So bright and hot, with the power to give life or destroy it all based on her whim.

Fuck.

This was getting out of hand.

Once I logged in today and saw my little virus was working, doing its job slowly so as not to be detected, I should have been done with her.

In essence, I was. Her part in this was over.

But I just couldn’t let go. Besides, what harm could one more taste really do?

Clementine and I were fire together.

Insatiable.

Volatile.

Together, we were the perfect mix of innocence and wisdom, wonder and knowledge, curiosity and experience.

It was like this, I wasn’t ready to give her up just yet. And I wasn’t a man who gave much consideration to denying my wants and needs.

Yes, I wanted her. But it was beginning to feel like maybe I needed her, too.

Only, that line of thought was hazardous to us both. I pushed it out of my head.

Have your bit of fun, boyo. But don’t fuck it all up over a skirt , the old man’s voice hissed inside my brain.

I ended the kiss. Next, I held her chair out, pleased at the way she followed my unspoken direction.

I’d asked for a private table, and this old building had one spot all the way in back of the main dining room behind a sort of partition where I assumed the owner placed his VIPs.

“Well, that was a nice hello,” she said, and her smile stole the breath from my lungs.

“Good evening, what can I get you to start?” the server asked.

“Bring us a bottle of red, Sergio. Something good. That okay with you?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Sure. Can I also have some sparkling water over ice with a slice of orange? Thank you.”

Fucking oranges. Of course.

This woman was driving me insane.

I wanted to laugh out loud, but I didn’t.

“Of course, miss,” the server replied.

He was polite. But apparently, I was territorial. I didn’t like another man’s attention on her, and I excused myself to have a discussion with the hostess.

Ten minutes later, a different server, this one was an older woman, came to our table with our wine and Clementine’s sparkling water.

“Are you ready, sir?” she asked.

I ordered the house specialty cheese souffle and salad Lyonnaise to begin.

“You okay if I order the rest?” I asked her.

It was bullish of me, but I wanted to feed her. I had a good idea of what her likes were already.

“Sure, I already love what you’re ordering,” she replied, and fuck, I liked hearing that.

Almost wish she was saying she loved something else.

Me. Love me.

What the fuck?

I stared at her for a moment longer, basking in the glow of her happiness and wanted to beat my chest in pride. But those things I ordered weren’t guesses. They were things I watched her eat without her knowledge.

Of course, she didn’t know that I’d been stalking her for a year. And really, was it so bad? It was like doing homework, would anyone fault me for studying for an exam?

I should tell her. But why fuck it up now?

She didn’t need that information to enjoy the evening or share a meal with me, did she?

Clementine nodded, answering my question and biting her lower lip in that way she had that drove me wild. I hummed approvingly, adjusting my dick beneath the table unobtrusively as I continued to peruse the menu.

“Next, we’ll have the mushroom raviolo. The special fish, steak frites, and the crepes of the day. For dessert, chocolate souffle and the cranberry chevre tart.”

“Excellent, sir.”

“Is someone joining us? That’s enough food for five people,” Clementine said.

“I think you know I have a rather enormous appetite, Darlin’.”

I looked her over, undressing her with my eyes. She’d just come from work, and I had to say I didn’t hate the jade green blouse she wore over fitted gray slacks.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, but some of those wild curls of hers escaped their confines, framing her face like a fiery halo. She wore light cosmetics, and nothing that hid her peaches and cream complexion or her unique copper eyelashes.

She had some kind of pink gloss on her lips when she’d arrived, but I’d kissed it all off. Somehow, that made her already plump lips look even more swollen and seductive.

Goddamn.

I felt like a teenager around this woman. Half out of control with lust. I already wanted to kiss her again.

But that wasn’t all.

I made small talk.

Chatted about her day.

Like I was actually pretending we were a real couple or something, and that was insane.

Stupid, boyo.

I clenched my old man’s voice and forced its way into my head.

You’re going to fuck this up. As you usually do.

I closed my eyes, forcing that bastard’s ghost away.

Tonight was not for him.

It was for me.

For us.