Page 81 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
The waiter comes and we order. Lucas goes to order for me, but I stop him and he gives me the dimple smile. There’s nothing I can do that bothers him it seems. Uncanny.Too good to last.
As if I’m trying to prove my internal point to myself, I decide to bring up the visit to my parents.
“Since Barbara needs the information, I guess it’s a good thing we planned to go to my parents’ tomorrow night. But I hate to leave work early on my second day.”
“I’ll pick you up at 5. You won’t need to leave early.”
“Five? That’s about three hours earlier than I’d planned on leaving.”
He raises a brow at me. “I see. This is the type A Melissa in action.”
“And you’re not? You have a lot going on too.” As I say this I realize I never had that how-was-your-day revelation from him.
“I’m very busy, but I plan to cancel an appointment with Rachel to see some office space because this—family—is more important.”
“Yes, but it’s not your family. You shouldn’t cancel anything on my behalf—”
“Melissa.” He puts his hands back over mine, holds my stare, and I feel myself calming, literally feel my heartbeat slowing.
“I want to do this with you,” he continues. “I want to be with you for something so important.”
“You mean something so traumatic.” My gut tilts but I rein it in.
“Potentially.”
My gut tilts again, then spins.
He leans in and touches his lips to mine feathering small kisses, soft and barely there. This has the effect of calming me. And exciting me. But at least the trepidation fades.
“You’ll be fine either way, but I would be distracted wherever I was, wondering how you were doing if I wasn’t there with you.”
This admission touches me, makes me blink for fear of tearing up. Once again I’m struck at this new Melissa’s penchant for unabashed displays of emotion. But of course it’s brought on by my emotional kryptonite, Lucas.
After a pause, he says, “Besides, I have no deadline.”
“Your father’s health makes the deadline as soon as possible.”
Then his smile softens and his eyes get that dark, dreamy look.
“I’m touched that you’re thinking about my father. And not surprised.” He puts his hand over mine and leans over the table, magically not knocking over any glasses and avoiding the candle, then kisses me again, lingering for a tantalizing beat before settling back. I realize I’ve leaned forward too, but I don’t sit back. I want more. Of him.
We finish our meal and Lucas has me in his arms as we walk outside into the frigid air. I’m looking forward to getting back inside the limo. But then it occurs to me we’ll be going our separate ways.
As he slides into the intimate space, made more so by the night, he says, “Would you like to come home with me, Melissa?”
Of course I do—I’m made of flesh and blood, aren’t I? Instead I say, “You have no idea how much I want to say yes, but I have work first thing in the morning, Lucas. And it means a lot to me that I do well in this job. Early impressions are important.”
The tragic disappointment in his eyes diffuses into understanding and resolve, and I want to take back everything I said to erase the obvious hurt I caused, even if it was small and temporary. But I don’t.
“Thank you for understanding,” I say, feeling lame. So I add, “I promise I’ll make it up to you. This weekend. We’ll spend all our time together, day and night.” It’s a rash thing to say, so un-Melissalike, but I don’t want to take it back. Won’t take it back.
“You’re sure?” He teases me with a smile because he knows it’s rash. He also knows he’s responsible for causing all sorts of rash behavior.I can’t wait to get rash with him in his bed all weekend. I almost say this, but don’t.
Based on the glossing of his eyes and the hitch in his breath as he stares at me, he reads my mind. Or maybe it’s written all over my Lucas-affected face. This man is undoing me. And I can’t say I even care right now.
By the time we pull up to the front of Margo’s building, I’m almost sleepy and yawning so I don’t ask Lucas to come up with me as he hands me off to the doorman.
“One more kiss,” I ask unnecessarily. He takes me in a ferocious hug, the muscles of his arms tight, his chest rock solid and warm through his coat.
Lowering his mouth to mine, he looks into my eyes me until our lips touch. There’s a sizzling spark of my senses and then a soft enveloping that follows as my lids close and the world holds only our two bodies, our mouths, tongues and our very souls combining.
I have no regrets until he separates us, once again as we stand in front of that door and that damn doorman, Henry, who must think we need our heads examined. If Henry wasn’t so well trained I think he would suggest we take it inside already.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Melissa. At five. I’ll be driving my Uber car.” He smiles and leaves me with a lingering caress of his hand on my cheek and a look of sensual promise. In spite of the cold, I stand there outside the door, watching him until he gets in the car, until the limo pulls from the curb, until it disappears into the traffic.
Henry clears his throat and holds the door open for me. I flash him a contrite smile. He winks at me. I love this guy. He’s good people.
