A Window to Love (Windows) (Volume 1) (4 page)

Melissa…

THE DRIVE TO lunch was quiet. Evan
held me close at his side, and I snuggled into him with my head on his
shoulder. He smelled so good.

“Are you sniffing me?” he asked. I laughed but didn't reply,
and he kissed the top of my head sniffing me back and I smiled. “I love the way
you smell... like jasmine flowers,” he whispered in my hair and my heart
skipped a beat.

If only I could reverse the last hour we spent entwined
together, this would be a perfect afternoon. As if he could read mind, he
softly told me, “This is what I call a perfect day, spending time with you.” He
was partially right, being together did feel perfect. Realizing there was
nothing to do at this point and truthfully there could be nothing to worry
about, I decided to push my weary thoughts to the back of my mind and put on a
smile. Turning in the seat, I placed a quick, soft kiss on his gorgeous mouth
and received a big grin in return, “Mmmm, I like that, bébé.”

Arriving at the restaurant, Evan guided me to an intimate
corner table. From across the table I smiled as I looked into those dreamy blue
eyes. He reached for my hand, brought it up to his lips then slid them lightly
across the inside of my wrist. That move made me tingle and melt inside. “You
look beautiful,” he said then adding, “You look better than anything on the
menu.”

With a raised eyebrow, I innocently replied, “Well, you
can’t eat me.”

At that remark, he gave me a wicked grin, and I laughed as
he suggested, “Let’s order, I’m starving.”

Looking at the menu I mused, “It all sounds delicious. I
want to try one of everything.”

After a few minutes of his own intent study of the menu,
Evan insisted we share a few of the dishes then signaled the waiter to our
table. He ordered humus and tabouli with pita bread, lamb kebab over a bed of
rice, a cucumber salad and a bottle of Greek red wine.

While enjoying our delicious array of Mediterranean food,
the tension between us eased and the conversation began to flow. We laughed and
talked about a wide variety of topics including questioning each other about
our childhoods and our families.

“You mentioned earlier that your parents live upstate. Did
you grow up there?” I asked as I dipped a warm piece of pita bread into the
humus and popped it in my mouth.

“No. When I was a freshman in high school, my parents
decided to leave the city. As soon as I graduated high school, I came back to
the city to attend college and never left, except for traveling for modeling
assignments.”

“Did you always want to be a model? Did you major in modeling
sciences?” I giggled.

Chuckling he told me, “Definitely not. I was studying
advertising and marketing. During my last year of college, I was in Florida for
spring break. A modeling agency held a contest on the beach, and they asked me
to enter. After a lot of prodding from my buddies, I entered and won. I started
working on ad campaigns that summer and I’ve been busy ever since.”

“What, no wild parties? Drunken brawls? High school
sweetheart? That all sounds too calm for you. Or did you get the bad boy reputation
when you started modeling?

He laughed.  “I had some fun in high school and college; no
real steady girlfriends, all-boy high school and I played sports. In college, I
liked a lot of girls and did my fair share of partying.” Flashing me one of his
winning smiles, he made my heart hum. “What about you? Upstate all your life?
Siblings? High school sweetheart? Wild parties in college? Tell me all your
dirt.” I loved that wink he gave me.

“Only child. Upstate all my life until I left for college to
study art. I was very focused in school, not really interested in the boyfriend
thing. I was a bit shy, but in college I blossomed.” I giggled as I rephrased,
“Or I should say a Lily entered my life. She brought me to life and got me into
trouble. Not big trouble, but she did drag me to parties and introduced me to
wild boys. Never anyone serious. Lily said there was no time for just one.”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure I like hearing about your sleeping
around,” he commented with a furrowed brow, and I laughed.

“Really? Well, I’ve never made it into to the tabloids with
my love life.” I gave him a sideways glance with a smirk on my face.

“They do make it seem like I’ve been very involved. Don’t
believe everything you read. Besides, we’re talking about you now. I think you’ve
shocked me that you didn’t have the high school or college sweetheart. You seem
the relationship type.”

“I never had a serious relationship until after my parents
died. When I started working at McDimel-Sanders about five years ago I met a
junior advertising executive. We started dating, and within a short time he was
asking me to marry him. I was so lonely, I thought why not marry him even
though I wasn't in love with him. Lucky for me, I overheard him talking to a
co-worker; telling him how he couldn't wait until we were married so he could
join a golf club and quit working. He had heard I had inherited a large sum of
money and thought he hit the lottery. Unlucky or lucky for him, I was standing
with Sam McDimel at the time, and he was later offered a position in another
office. It all ended very badly. Since that dating experience, I’ve given up on
romance.”

“What about now? Us? Our romance?”

I tilted my head, leaning my chin on my fist, looking at
him; biting the tip of my thumb contemplating his question and how to answer.
Do I tell him the truth? Do I make a joke? What do I think about us? I think I
need to guard my heart, prepare for the worst, and enjoy whatever time I have
with him. I decided to settle for a light answer. “I think it’s been delicious
so far. And speaking of delicious, I’m dying for dessert, preferably something
French.”

“Nice way to avoid the question.” He smirked at me.

After a delectable lunch, sharing bits of our lives, we
visited a little patisserie owned by Evan’s friends for dessert and coffee.
Once we finished our sweet treat we headed back to my apartment.  Stopping
first at the reception desk, we picked up Evan's bag and then headed up. In the
elevator, Evan pulled me into his arms. “Melissa, do you trust me? I really need
you to trust.”

I looked up into his very serious face. “Yes, I trust you.”
I did trust him. I barely knew him, but I did trust him.

Arriving at my door, Evan took my keys and unlocked the
door. Before I could walk in, he cupped my face and kissed me deeply, making me
moan. There was nothing better than kissing him. I could do it forever!

“Hold on to me, bébé and keep your eyes closed until I say
you can open them.” I did as he instructed and let him guide me inside. Why is
he doing this? Did he do something that I didn't notice before we left?

Evan walked straight ahead leading me into the living room.
“Melissa, I want to make you happy. I hope you realize this is for you, not to
make you sad but to make you happy. I want you to have new memories, a fresh start
with me.”

Suddenly my breathing became irregular. My chest tightened.
What has he done?

He kissed me again, holding me tightly in his arms before he
turned me around keeping my back to his chest. “Open your eyes, bébé.”

When I opened my eyes, my breath caught in my throat.

“Breathe, bébé” he murmured softly in my ear.

I gasped as I looked at the most spectacularly decorated
Christmas tree that had suddenly appeared in my living room.

A few tears slid down my cheeks. “Oh Evan. C'est
magnifique!”

In front of the left window stood a ten-foot Noble Fir tree
with twinkling white lights. Red plaid ribbon floated around the tree from top
to bottom. Atop the tree was a sparkly, ornately cut out gold star. Red,
gold, and cream glass balls were sprinkled throughout the tree. Gold
angels, musical notes and fleur-de-lis ornaments hung playfully from various
branches.

It smelled wonderful. I leaned in and inhaled deeply and
wondered, “How did you do this?”

“Your apartment staff was extremely helpful. I called and explained
to them what I wanted to do, and they were excited to help. Then I called the
store that had the tree you loved so much. I spoke to the manager and he got
one of their window designers to come over and decorate your
apartment.”

I turned around to take it all in. There were poinsettias in
the entry and on the dining table. It looked like Christmas had been delivered
to my apartment.

“All the phone calls you were making, those were to do this
for me?”

“Yes, bébé. All for you.”

I threw my arms around his neck, bringing his lips to mine
and kissed him with full force.

“So I'm not in trouble? I did okay?” He asked holding me
tightly in his arms gazing lovingly into my eyes.

“It makes me a little sad because it brings back memories,
but everything is new. I'm amazed that you would do something like this for me.
Merci beaucoup, monsieur”

“I love making you happy. Let’s make a fire, open a bottle
of red wine, put on some music, snuggle up and enjoy the tree,” Evan said as he
nuzzled the side of my neck.

“Mmmm, count me in.”

Then he slapped me on the ass. “Let's get comfortable
first.” Picking me up along with his overnight bag, he walked into my bedroom.

“You know I can walk.”

“I like carrying you, bébé. I can walk and kiss you at the
same time," he said pressing his lips to mine, and I loved it!

Briefly, we got sidetracked while attempting to change into
more comfortable clothing. It was hard to resist this man. Eventually, we
headed for the kitchen. I was excited to spend another evening with Evan. I
loved the idea of cooking and relaxing with him. Entering the kitchen, I saw
bags on the counter.

“What is all this?”

“I had some items delivered to make dinner for you.” He
kissed my forehead. “I hope that’s okay with you?”

“You cook more than breakfast? I’m impressed.”

“I live alone. I better know how to cook more than
breakfast. A person can only eat so much take-away. My mom is a good cook. She
taught me the basics. Besides, I already told you that I have a friend that is
a chef. He has given me some good recipes and cooking lessons over the years.”
Evan wasn’t kidding when he said he knew how to cook. Later in the evening he
prepared a delicious fish dish and paired it with a delightful white wine. It
was nice to eat in the dining room complete with candlelight. Quite romantique!

“You never told me what you would do to the dining room.” He
stated in a questioning manner.

“I love the lighting. I actually picked it out along with
the dishes in the cabinet. Actually, all of the dishes were my choice.”

“That all makes sense. They look like you.”

“I don't like this table. I'd prefer a round table and
chairs with an interesting pattern. This is all too traditional and stuffy. My
mom's interior designer picked it out, I think, with my parents in mind. She
had good intentions, but it's not for me.”

Clearing the dishes, Evan disappeared into the kitchen.
Returning with some kind of chocolate dessert, a bottle of red wine, two
glasses and one fork. I could see that I was going to be fed. He was so in
charge and yet, I loved it. “Let’s sit in the living room and enjoy your new
Christmas tree.”

“Thank you again. The tree is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful Melissa.” He slipped a piece of chocolate
into my mouth, but before I could swallow it, his tongue invaded my mouth. He
moaned, and I melt like the delicious sweet treat. I loved being wrapped up in
his embrace. I felt safe. Happy thoughts rushed into my head. “What are you
thinking about, bébé?”

“Nothing. Just admiring the tree.”

“Looks to me like you are thinking about something that
makes you happy.” I nodded my head, yes. “I’m not going to ask you to share,
don’t worry. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about. When I was little, my
parents took me shopping for our Christmas tree. I was so excited. It is my
first memory of getting a tree. On our way, we stopped to see Santa Claus, and
I said ‘no, I don’t want to talk to him, I want to get a tree.’ My parents told
me don’t be afraid of him. I wasn’t afraid of him; I just really wanted a tree.
Anyway, they pushed me into the queue and when I finally reached him, I climbed
up onto his lap. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas, was I good boy all
year. My only answer was ‘I want a Christmas tree.’ He asked anything else, and
I said no, that’s it. He laughed as I slipped off his lap and wandered back to
my parents. They asked what I asked Santa for, and I told them I just want a
Christmas tree. My parents love to tell that story to this day.” Evan laughed.

He made me smile. “Now I know why you are adamant about me
having a tree. Merci beaucoup. This has been a parfait evening. The only thing
missing is music.”

“Hey bébé, I've been meaning to ask you. Do you play piano?”

“No.”

“Did your parents play piano? Was it theirs?”

“No. I bought it. I always wanted a piano. And no, I don't
plan to take lessons.” Laughing, “It's just for looks.”

Without saying a word, Evan grabbed my hand and walked me to
the piano, pulled out the bench and sat down. Patting the bench he implored me,
“Sit next to me, bébé.”

Music filled the room. My mouth fell open in amazement. “You
play beautifully,” I said as I was thinking, is there anything he can't do?
This man of many secret talents: I wanted to spend a lifetime learning
something new about him every day. I was surprised by the variety of music he
could play; classical, old standards, popular tunes and even some Christmas
songs that we sang together. As we are laughing and having a great
time, he turned to at me with a sly grin on his face and started playing
music that sounded perfect for a striptease.