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Authors: Lisa N. Paul

Blocked (12 page)

BOOK: Blocked
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April didn’t finish her thought, which had Decker practically dying to know what exactly was going to come out of her mouth. “Spill it, dimples. Unless what? If you don’t tell me, I’ll make certain Charlie’s group gets moved up to an earlier spot, and I will be on your doorstep with a copy of the first text you ever sent me. You know, the one that started our communication. The
first
text.”

April gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t test me.” Decker’s smile was so broad, his cheeks hurt from the effort.

“Fine,” April conceded. “I was gonna say I wouldn’t let you meet my mother unless you were completely in love with me. Because otherwise, there’d be no guarantee that you wouldn’t run for the hills. Happy now?”

Yes, he was happy. The woman kept him on his toes but didn’t make him question whether or not he was worthy. In fact, it was quite the opposite. “You have my word, April. I’m not running anywhere.” An announcement was made over the intercom, requesting the audience to return to their seats. “I do, however, need to get back to the auditorium. But we’re okay, right?”

“Yes, and I really am sorry, Deck.”

“Don’t be sorry, dimples. Just be at Amore
by seven.” He had the phone in his pocket and a smile on his face as he reclaimed the seat next to his mother.

Just as the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the audience, his mother whispered, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed all that grinning you’ve been doing lately, son. I look forward to hearing all about her… real soon.”

Trying his best to squelch the smile, Decker shot a glance at his perceptive mother, whose eyes were locked on the empty stage. “Not sure what you’re talking about, Mom.”

Without saying another word, his mother patted his arm and nodded. As if on cue, the music started, and groups of little girls took the stage, making their parents and their tutus proud.

 

Chapter Eight

 

To Be That Spoon

 

 

“WOW.” DECKER WHISTLED quietly as he appraised April from head to toe. “You look incredible.”

He’d felt her presence from the moment she walked into the restaurant, as if there were a magnetic pull that drew her to him. The large swallow of vodka did nothing to moisten his throat that went desert-dry the second she’d slipped off her coat and revealed a black, V-neck fitted sweater over tight, dark rinse jeans. It took another swallow of the cool liquid to mask the groan that rose in his chest when his gaze drifted to the high-heeled leather boots that rested just under her knees, showcasing her long legs and firm thighs. Sure, he’d seen her countless times over the past couple of months, but each time had been at the gym. While he’d never deny finding her attractive as she pushed her body to new limits, dripping sweat and shaping her muscles, those instances didn’t hold a candle to the image that currently stood before him.

With his heart pounding behind his ribs and cock pressed firmly against the zipper of his jeans, he rose from the bar stool he’d acquired ten minutes earlier, upon arriving at the restaurant. Decker’s hands, as if acting on their own volition, reached out and caressed down the cashmere that covered April’s arms, not stopping until they linked through her fingers. There was no hiding the anticipation that danced in her soulful green eyes, an invitation that Decker accepted by connecting with her skin to skin. Even though the move was middle-school-aged at best, when he pressed a kiss on her warm cheek, the world around them faded to black. Her fruity scent cloaked him like an embrace, much more intimate than what they were engaged in at the moment. Her silken gold hair grazed his cheek as he pulled back and watched how it cascaded down her shoulders, curling just over the swells of her breasts.
Fuck me, she’s gorgeous.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, big guy.” She wagged her sculpted brows, acknowledging that he’d spoken and not thought about his previous comment.

While her words were playful, he could tell by her tone that she may be feeling a bit timid or apprehensive. After all, she had said this was her first date in years. Hopefully it would be the first of many for them.

 

* * *

 

TRYING TO MAINTAIN her composure after nearly turning to jelly from just the slightest brush of his lips against her skin, April inhaled deeply through her nose before releasing the breath from her mouth. Placing her purse on the bar, she noticed the half-empty glass he’d been holding upon her entry sat sweating on a cardboard coaster. She checked her watch then the clock behind the bar. The times were identical. Being a teacher, she was neurotic about punctuality, so how could he be halfway done with a cocktail if she was ten minutes early for the date he’d informed her that he’d arrive to at the exact time of the reservation?

“The clocks are correct,” Decker acknowledged as if reading her thoughts. “I, however, got here about fifteen minutes ago, and that drink was exactly what I needed.”

While the man looked ridiculously sexy in his gray button-down shirt and black jeans, the furrow between his dark brows said that the hours since their chat had been filled with more than just tap shoes and tights. He gestured for April to take a seat at the bar. When she did, he resettled in the one he’d been occupying when she arrived. With time to spare and nerves to settle before their table would be ready, April ordered a martini while Decker explained how the rest of his afternoon played out.

“Just like always, Charlie did want ice cream. However, she opted for a homemade milkshake… made by my mom… at her house.” Decker ran his hand through his thick russet-brown hair, a grin so faint only a fellow parent would notice it lingering behind the curtain of chagrin. “So I changed
our
plans, which led to a misunderstanding between you and I, all so I could continue a tradition with my little girl, one that she’d been talking about for weeks, mind you, and in the end, she didn’t even wanna hang out with dear old dad anyway.” He lifted the glass, swirling the ice in the clear liquid. “I’ll tell you, April, I love my daughter, I do.” He snickered before swallowing a small sip of his beverage. “But tonight was one of those rare times when I wanted to sell her to the circus.”

“Oh, believe me, I get it,” April admitted. “Kids can be tough. I’ve often thought Elijah would make a perfect clown, but it just so happens that the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus don’t come around that often.”

A comfortable silence fell over them as they savored their drinks.

“What are you thinking about, Deck? You’re smiling.” April placed her small hand on his thick forearm.

“I was thinking about something my mom used to say to me when I was younger. I never quite understood it back then, but with each year that passes, the damn statement rings clearer and clearer.” April could have sworn she saw Decker’s memory playing in his chocolate eyes. “Man plans, God laughs.”

 

* * *

 

“AIN’T THAT THE truth?” she agreed.

Her sexy voice and soft giggles ignited tingles through his body, while the flash of her deep dimples gripped him like a firm stroke to his lengthening cock.

Then a gentle softness, an understanding only another parent could feel, settled on her beautiful face. “I’m sorry that you got stood up for your ice cream date with Charlie. Those little traditions probably mean more to us than to them.” Her eyes lifted to the left before resting back on his. “And I’m sorry that I assumed the worst with you. It’s just—”

Looking into her celadon gaze, Decker didn’t need any more of an apology. This whole thing was new to both of them, and they were both bound to make mistakes. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know: she was sorry, she was happy to be there with him, and it was time to move on to a better part of their date.

“Dimples, the only thing you should be apologizing for is the condition of the lower part of my body.” Watching her face transform from contrite to zealous did nothing to ease the condition he’d just mentioned. “Seriously, April, every time you move I smell apples.” Decker leaned in, closed his eyes, and breathed in her sweet, fresh scent. “I’ve never smelled anything more intoxicating.”

April threw her head back and laughed. “Um, you’re sweet, big guy, but I’m thinking your nose is just extremely grateful for my apple-scented lotion. After all, I’ve smelled like a sweaty pile of laundry each time you’ve seen me in the past.”

Before he could respond, the hostess arrived to lead them to their table.

“No, babe, that’s not it,” he murmured in her ear just before they took their seats. “It just so happens that your brand of
sweaty laundry
has been one of my favorite smells over the last month or so.”

Her rounded eyes and winking dimples made the strange look he received from the hostess well worth the effort.

Over a shared grilled calamari appetizer and separate meals, veal scallopini (Decker) and eggplant parmesan (April), the conversation flowed smoothly and the laughs came easily. Two people who’d never spent time alone together seemed as if they’d never been apart.

“So there we were, just the two of us, putting the finishing touches on the outside lighting at the neighbors’ house. They were out of town, and I was packing up our supplies while my dad was fastening the sconces into the siding with the screw gun.” This was one of Decker’s favorite stories about his dad. Each time he told it, he relived the day, making his father feel not so far away.

Olivia had gagged the first time he shared this particular anecdote with her and rolled her eyes each time after. Judging by the way April listened to the things he’d said and engaged in their conversation thus far, he had a strong suspicion her reaction wouldn’t be the same as his former wife’s.

“It was my brother’s birthday, and my mom, while loving that Dad and I spent quality time together when he wasn’t working, requested we not take more than a couple of hours to do the job and return home. Delighting in our mutual love for all things construction, Dad and I got lost in the work and our time side by side, and before we knew it, the sun was setting and we were late. At first, I didn’t hear him.” Decker paused as much for a dramatic affect as it was to quench his parched lips. He rested his glass on the table eager to continue. “Between the clanking of the tools being tossed in the metal box as I cleaned up and the music blaring on the radio, nothing sounded off. But then I heard my name. It was a calm, lazy calling coming from my dad. ‘Decker, can you come here for a minute, son?’ April, I had no idea anything was wrong until I walked over and saw my father holding the power tool as steady as could be. When his jaw ticked, I followed his stare only to find he’d twisted the screw right through his index finger.”

April’s eyes flared as her jaw dropped. “Oh my God—”

Decker interrupted her before she could ask any questions. “My dad, in his calmest voice, said, ‘Deck, would you mind throwing the gun in reverse, please? Gotta get this screw outta my goddamn finger.’”

“Holy shit, Decker!” Her eyes were still dinner-plate wide but filled with awe and not disgust. “What in the hell did you do?”

“Umm, first, I put that motherfucker in reverse and helped my dad get unattached from the house. Then once I realized the man was okay—and he was totally fine, like ‘Oh shit, I got blood on my favorite flannel,’ fine—I nearly peed myself laughing.” Decker chuckled as he remembered that day. “I was fourteen, and we were a block away from home. My dad’s hand was bleeding pretty badly, so he wrapped it up in his ruined shirt and let me steer the car while he managed the gas. It was the greatest day ever.”

April’s hand flew over her mouth. Judging by the tiny creases at the corners of her eyes, the fiery woman was no doubt trying to hide a full-fledged smile behind her partial hand-mask.

Decker shook his head. “You should have seen my mom when we got home. First she was pissed that we were late, but as soon as she saw my dad was bleeding, she morphed into nurse-mode. Mind you, the woman wasn’t a nurse by trade, but when you’re married to someone in our line of work, injuries come with the territory. Anyway, once she’d cleaned him up and he explained what had happened, my mom went from gentle and sympathetic to Nurse Ratched in the blink of an eye.”

“Why,” April asked from behind her hand.

“Why?” Decker questioned, laughter ripping from his gut. “April, my dad got into a truck, while bleeding profusely, with his vertically challenged fourteen-year-old son and drove home with said son doing the steering. It was not his finest decision-making moment. The guy was lucky my mother didn’t screw his balls to the siding that night.” Decker watched as April’s dimples burrowed deeply into her cheeks. “Go on, beautiful, I can see the amusement just begging to come out.”

She was fighting to hold it back, he could tell, and he didn’t want that. No, he wanted her open and honest with real emotions from a real woman who wasn’t afraid to just… be.

“Let it out, April, before you explode.”

As if Decker’s permission had been the only thing holding her back, April erupted in peals of laughter. The husky, rich sound was like fine scotch, running warm through his veins and fueling his soul. Every part of his body was live and stimulated like the electricity in the story he’d just told. Each of her jagged breaths sent more blood to his already hardened length, making him more than grateful for the long tablecloth that allowed him to adjust himself subtly without calling more attention to the table.

“Oh my God, Decker, seriously…” April gasped for air between fits of giggles. “Vertically challenged? Is that how you referred to yourself?”

He watched as a large tear drop rolled unchecked down her cheek until it hit her plump red lips. Decker sat frozen, enthralled as her small tongue glided to the corner of her mouth to catch the salty laughter.
Fuck me,
he thought as his cock pulsed behind the confines of his jeans. He felt a sense of disappointment when she swiped the remaining tears away with her palm.

He shrugged. “Look, I was a… late bloomer. At least that’s what my mom used to call it. I didn’t hit my growth spurt until I was almost seventeen.”

BOOK: Blocked
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