Crown's Chance at Love (20 page)

“Hi,” I happily answer.

“Hey honey, how are you doing?” his sexy voice asks, making shivers run through my spine.

“I’m good, but someones at the door Mike, give me a second,” I said as I answer the door, and smile as he is standing in front of me.

Incredibly sexy in a black leather motorcycle jacket, with a peek of a fitted white t-shirt underneath, fitted jeans that looked worn in and soft, and his trusty black chucks. His hair is slightly disheveled, a little bit overgrown curling slightly at the neck, my fingers itched to run them through his dark hair. The usual slight greying at his temples, a little more noticeable, giving him a distinguished look. His face clean shaven, his goatee perfectly trimmed. His pale ice blue eyes covered in mirrored aviator sunglasses that had a silver metal trim around them.

“Surprised?” He asks raising an eyebrow, as he takes off his sunglasses, his eyes full of amusement at me standing there in my own thoughts. I laugh and nod and he pulls me forward to him, wrapping his arms around my waist, my hands running in his hair.

“Where are the kids?” he whispers into my ear, goosebumps appearing all over my skin from the shivers his voice sends down my spine.

“Kitchen,” I whisper back, completely reveling in his playful mood.

“Good,” he says.  I look up at him just as he leans down, his mouth crushing down on mine.

Where as the last time I saw him, his kisses were soft and chaste, this kiss is deep and hungry. Almost starved. Like he can’t seem to get enough. We are like two high school teenagers, kissing fast and furious on my front porch. My hands holding on tightly to his leather jacket. His goatee feels so good against my skin, the way his skin smells makes my mind fog up instantly.  The mix of the leather from his jacket and the spicy musky notes of his cologne make my mind haze over. all of that mixed with the scent of soap, as if he just got out of the shower, the images of that alone only making me hotter for him.

I wasn’t sure how long we made out at my door. It could have been two minutes or an hour. That was the effect that he had on me. Time always seems to stand still when I am in his arms. That was until someone cleared their throat loudly and we both immediately froze.

Breaking our kiss I looked over Mikes shoulder to see my mailman standing their with a silly grin.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just need your signature,” The mailman says smiling as he hands me an envelope. I quickly signed it as I felt my cheeks heat up, and when he left, Mike and I laughed, as Mike pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. I looked at him smiling.

“I missed you too,” I knew he hadn’t told me the words, but I could feel it from him. He had missed me.

“Good surprise or bad surprise, me showing up here without calling?” he asks, and by the look in his eyes I could tell he was genuinely worried about having just shown up.

My hands caress his face loving the smoothness of the newly shaven skin in contrast with the coarseness of the hair in his goatee.

“Mike I just made out with you at my front door like a sixteen year old, what do you think?” I say smiling and he leans in, his lips kiss me softly. I could taste a hint of coffee mixed with mint on his breath.

“Just checking,” he tells me giving me a sexy grin, leaning in for another kiss.

“Come in,” I say, his hand magically going to mine. I’m not sure who’s went to grabs whose first, but it didn’t matter, somehow my hands in his big hands make everything better.

“What’s that?” he asks looking at the envelope the mailman had delivered, and I looked at it, nor able to hide the frown on my face.

“Nothing. Kids are in the kitchen if you want to say hi. I’ll be right back.” I say as I head to my small office by the living room. Sitting at my desk I look out the window.

A letter from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. When Sean died, the police officers told me that the person responsible for the accident had been a drunk driver. I had never wanted to know the driver’s identity. I had made it a point to never go to the trial. I knew my family couldn’t understand why I had chosen to do those things, but as far as I had known, they had respected my wishes and hadn’t gone either.

I’d been receiving letters from whom I suspected was the drunk driver. At first it was only one every six months, but the last three months the frequency had increased. I never opened them. I put them away in a manila folder in my small home office. I didn’t want to go there. Especially now. Taking a deep breath, I open the bottom drawer and slipped the new letter in. I look up and standing in the door frame is Mike and he is staring at me with his pale blue eyes.

“What came for you?” he asks curiously.

“It’s complicated,” I say waving him in.

“I have time,” he says as he takes a seat in front of my desk. There is something about him that made it easy for me to share things that were not easy for me to talk about.

“You know how I told you about Sean? About how he passed away?” I ask him, trying not to hide my nerves and I take in how he nods. His face serious, guilt hitting my stomach at having ruined the playful mood he had had just minutes ago.

“I didn’t want to know anything about the driver.”

“Why?” he asks.

“I’m not really sure. I guess I knew he would be paying his time for what he did to Sean and his partner. I didn’t want to carry those ugly feelings towards him I think. Sean was gone, I was a mess…”

“That was to be expected…”

“No I know… but I was… I was… let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. I needed to handle everything little by little. Anyhow, every once in a while I get letters from the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.”

“Really?” I heard him but I couldn’t get myself to look at him. I looked out the window. Did he think I was an idiot for not wanting to read them? For not wanting to know anything about the drunk driver?

“Have you read any?”

“No,” I quickly answered, “Anyhow that’s what it was, a letter…I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t honey, don’t apologize about this,” his voice is gruff. “Come here baby.” I look at him as he pats his lap.

Without a second thought I went to him. Sitting on his lap, leaning my head into crook where his neck and shoulder met, letting him hold me.

“You smell good.” I whisper.

“You think so?” he asks, his voice still serious, I immediately miss playful Mike. I nod against his strong chest. His hand on my back, grazes my shoulder in slow circles.

***

Mike

This was my chance to tell her.

“Honey…”

“Mom do we have any glue?” Penny yells at the same time as I had started to talk.

“I’m sorry Mike, you hungry? Dinner is almost ready.” She said standing up and I already miss her closeness.

“Yeah dinner sounds good honey,” I say, chickening out as I follow her to the kitchen.

Dinner was great, even with finding out that Patrick’s been writing Sabrina. My flight had been rough, but even then all I had wanted to do was shower and come over here. There was something about their place that made it feel like a home. I was unusually comfortable with all of them, not just Sabrina. All of us sitting around on the oversized sectional, a movie playing, Sabrina in my arms, it all felt surreal. I felt as if I would wake up and somehow it would all disappear. The kids went to bed and we went to the backyard to sit on her porch swing.

The night was perfect. Warm and breezy, with hints of Summer in the air. The breeze picked up the scent of coconut from her hair and I knew I wanted more of this, I just didn’t know how to ask for it. I know I sure as hell don’t deserve it.

“Penny for your thoughts.” she says, her voice sweet.

I look at her. Even now that we have been seeing one another for over a couple of weeks. Looking at her still takes my breath away. Her brown eyes bright filled with this spark full of life and fire. Her hair is in a messy bun at the base of her neck, her skin smooth and creamy.

“Just that I like this. This is nice,” I tell her, surprising myself with how honestly I had just answered.

“Me too. How is the new deal going?”

“Slow. The company we are working with is putting up all these damn road blocks, making us jump through hoops we really shouldn’t have to. It’ll be okay though. Any interesting weddings coming up?” I ask her and she laughs. I love the way her face looks when she laughs.

Shaking her head, “Not really, but I did get an interesting email today.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Looks like your mom and your company’s charity committee wants to hire Ritz for the Breast Cancer Gala.”

“Really?” I ask her, trying to mask the panic that suddenly starts to rush through my veins.

“Yeah… I know I am as surprised as you are. Laney is excited to get a new client though,” she says smiling, and I smile back at her. Part of me is glad that they got the account.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have brought champagne to celebrate” I say as I try to shake the panic that had creeped into me.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m looking forward to the fact that it isn’t a wedding,” she says smiling and I wrap my arm tighter around her.

“I’m happy you got it babe.” I tell her but  feel her tense slightly, “ What’s wrong?”

“Will us… umm…. getting to know one another be a problem with me planning this thing?”

“No, don’t worry about it.” I could feel her body slack slightly like a weight had been lifted. Yet somehow the idea of her working closely with my mother, hits me. Whatever weight she’d had on her shoulders just transfered to mine.

Mike

They say that time flies when you are having fun, and its true.

Another month has flown by in a blink of an eye. Between having to fly out to the east coast three more times and Sabrina’s job, we have only seen each other a handful of times, but have talked on the phone or video chatted every day and night.

I can’t seem to help myself with her. I surprise myself at how open I am with her, how much I tell her without a second thought. Things that Holly used to complain at me to try to work on, with Sabrina I just do naturally.

Yet as great as things have been, a dark cloud is still looming over me. Afraid that at any moment she will somehow find out that Patrick is my half-brother. That she will find out about what I did that morning, and that she will never want to look at me again.

The thought of her not wanting to have anything to do with me scares the hell out of me.

I want her more than I have ever wanted anything. Not just sexually or physically, but emotionally. There is something about being with her that calms me. That satisfies me completely, yet I can’t seem to get enough of her. Every spare moment I have, I want to be with her and the kids. It should terrify me, the pull they have on me, but it doesn’t.

We haven’t taken things further nor have we been able to have a repeat performance of what we did in her office. Not because we haven’t wanted to, but because the opportunity hasn’t been there. I make sure to keep things under control when we kiss, or at least I try to. The way my body reacts to her, is the way an eighteen year old reacts to a girl. Even then, kissing and making out has surprisingly been pretty amazing. I love kissing her. Everytime we kiss, it’s better than the last.

I find myself in my office looking out the floor to ceiling glass window and onto the city of Los Angeles, just thinking about her. How I’ve now known her for two and a half months, yet somehow it feels like I have known her longer than that.

June is over half way done, and the amount of weddings she is planning and coordinating is incredible.  I have no idea how she manages to keep everything under control: how she is always there for the kids, how she has time to talk to her friends, how she has time for me, but she does. She juggles everything and everyone seamlessly in such a graceful way that you know she wouldn’t have it any other way. Simply put, she amazes me.

Two weeks ago, her sister Cara, had shared with her that she was pregnant and Sabrina was over the moon about it. I liked watching her happiness shine bright in her face at the thought of becoming an aunt. My thoughts quickly go to this upcoming weekend.