The Closer You Get (20 page)

“Want another drink?” he asked. He stepped toward her, and she instinctively scooted backward on the bed.
 

“Sure,” she said, hoping to forestall the inevitable. It struck her as strange that her body could be screaming ‘yes’ even as her mind shouted, ‘not yet, not yet.’
 

Rye poured one shot. He lifted it to his lips and tossed it back. Cora’s heart thundered as he leaned over her, cupping the back of her head, and pulling her lips to his. She parted her lips, and warm whiskey flooded her mouth, followed by Rye’s insistent tongue. The whiskey made her body pliant. Or maybe that was just an excuse for letting Rye push her to her back and lie down on top of her.
 

When he pulled back, he was grinning. “One part Johnny Walker, one part sweet, sweet Cora. My new favorite drink.”

God help her, she actually giggled. But when he lowered his lips again, she forestalled him with a hand to his chest. “Wait. Rye? How far do you plan on going tonight?”

“The answer to that question will always be, ‘As far as you’ll let me.’”
 

She laughed and stopped yet another attempt to kiss her. “It’s our first date.”

Rye searched her eyes, his expression sobering some. With a nod, he rolled to his back and pulled her atop him. She stifled a shriek at the sudden movement.
 

“So what would normally happen,” he said, propping himself on his elbows to get eye-to-eye with her, “if this were a real high school date, is we’d make out and grind against each other a little. Then I’d prematurely ejaculate, bringing the evening to an embarrassing end. But you’re dealing with an experienced man, tonight, Cora, so we’ll just have to let you set the pace and end the evening on your terms. How’s that sound?”

She nodded through her laughter. Rye reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. This time, she let him kiss her. This time, she pressed back, crushing her lips against his, thankful for the power he’d given her. He lay back on the bed and kept his hands on her waist while she explored his mouth with her lips and his body with her hands.
 

For a while, she occupied herself with marveling at the gorgeous man beneath her. A man she never would have gotten in high school. No, he’d have been swarmed with hot, popular girls. But time had leveled the playing field, it seemed.

As the make out session progressed, so did her feelings. His responses to her touch gave her a sense of power—made her more aware of her own body. Aware of her own movements. She let her legs fall to the sides of his hips. The hard length of his erection fitted against her, thrilling her and terrifying her. Still, his hands stayed on her hips—had they not been on her waist a moment ago? She couldn’t remember. She got lost in the kiss, again. In the ache intensifying between her legs.

Awareness. Her nipples hardening, growing sensitive, brushing against his chest through the fabric of their clothes. Her waist lengthening with her movements. Her movements, grinding her pelvis against his as though she had no choice in the matter. Really and truly, she didn’t. He was there. She was there. This was inevitable and necessary and…destined.

His hands remained snugly gripping her ass—hadn’t they been on her…?

“Fuck!” he cried out. He pulled her hard against him, thrust his hips twice, and groaned.

Cora watched his face in amazement, his expression morphing into one of agony or pleasure, she couldn’t tell which. And then she felt the warmth and wetness between her legs. Not from her own body, but from his.

She couldn’t help it. Her lips turned up. By the time he opened his eyes, she was grinning. “Don’t…” he started.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“Don’t talk to me right now.”

She snorted and fought not to laugh.

“If you laugh at me, I’m moving and you’ll never see me again.”

She rolled off of him and laughed harder than she had in years. “It’s okay,” she gasped through her laughter. “It happens to everyone, I hear.”

Rye sat up and dug his palms into his eyes. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s not,” she squeaked, as she stuffed the rest of her laughter away for later. She sat up and tried to touch his shoulder, but he pulled away. “I’m not laughing at you, Rye. It’s just funny because you were so cocky about being an experienced man—”

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, this stays here, you hear me? You don’t tell your little girlfriends. You sure as shit don’t tell Adam.”

She burst out laughing again.

Rye was on his feet grabbing his jacket. Cora could see he wasn’t angry. Embarrassed for sure. But he was grinning, at least.

“Don’t go, yet,” Cora said.

“Don’t go? You laugh at a man and then beg him not to go?” He grabbed her waist and tickled her. “Why couldn’t you just take it as a compliment, huh? Why you gotta go and laugh at me, huh?” He kept tickling her.
 

She squirmed and laughed and kicked, unable to free herself. They forgot all about being quiet as they wrestled on the bed, mussing her comforter and pillows.
 

“What in God’s name…?”

Rye and Cora froze, turning their heads toward the door. Noreen McKay stood there in her robe, looking no less regal for her lack of formal attire. “Mom,” Cora gasped.

Rye snorted and climbed off of her, standing and holding his jacket in front of him. Cora scrambled up after him, struggling to straighten her skirt and pull down the top that had ridden up.

“Care to explain what the hell you’re doing in my house?” Noreen asked.

“Um…I’m…we…um…”

Rye gave her a nudge.
 

“Mom, this is Rye Holcomb.”

Noreen arched a brow but made no move to introduce herself. “Your new employee?”

“Yes,” Cora said, in an unmistakably defensive tone.
 

“And you thought it appropriate to bring him here?”

“It was just…we were just…”

“Leaving,” Rye said. “We were just leaving. I asked her to show me where she grew up; that’s all.”

Noreen turned her penetrating gaze his direction. “Why is she dressed as a cheerleader?”

Rye shrugged, his lips pressed together, probably to keep from laughing. “Costume party?” he said though it came out sounding like a question. He glanced at Cora.

“Yes,” Cora said. “Costume party. We were going as the homecoming king and queen. Right?”

Rye nodded.
 

“Is that your father’s Johnny Walker Blue?”

“Um,” Cora stuttered again, “Yes. I can replace it, but…you don’t drink it, so…”

“You know what, I’m going back to bed,” Noreen said. “Please take your…party…elsewhere. And let’s all pretend this didn’t happen.”

Cora and Rye nodded quickly. After she had left, they looked at each other for a long moment before bursting into laughter. They straightened out her bed clothes, gathered the whiskey and glasses, and turned out the lights.
 

On the drive back to her house, Cora said, “You can laugh. I’m going to hear about this tomorrow. She’ll say, ‘Cora, do you imagine I wanted to meet your new beau in my bathrobe of all things?’”

“Tell her I said she looked hot. That’ll make her feel better.”

Cora slapped him on the arm.

When they pulled into the driveway, Cora sensed Rye’s good humor fading. Adam’s car was still there, and Rye stared at it. “Know what?” he said, “I think I’m going to say goodnight to you here. Normally I’d walk you in, but—”

“I completely understand.”

He turned toward her, took her chin between his fingers, and kissed her deeply. She clung to his jacket and melted a little.
 

“Mmm,” he moaned, as the kiss ended. “I want more of that, Cora. When can I see you again?”

“Besides at work?”

“You know damn well besides at work.”

“I-I don’t know.”

“County Fair’s next week. You ever been on a date to the county fair?”

She shook her head.
 

“Then I’ll take you. Wednesday after work. Okay?”

She nodded.

He kissed her again. She made her way inside on very, very weak legs.
 

D
ESPITE
WHAT
HE
would only refer to as “the incident,” in which he’d violated his favorite pair of jeans, Rye was ridiculously happy. He kept catching himself smiling on the short drive home. Cash was asleep when he got back, which made sense since it was nearly three in the morning; so Rye locked up, managed to stay awake long enough to shower, and then crashed. He fell asleep thinking up ideas for all the first dates he wanted to take her on.
 

Monday morning came, and the first thing he did was stop by a florist to have something delivered to her office. He’d dated plenty in the past, but the women he’d dated, even Beth, had never been super impressed with the little things. The way Cora had reacted to those daisies had made him want to run out and pick a bunch more.
 

He didn’t do roses, just yet. The florist had a lovely springtime bouquet on special, so he took that. He wrote out a simple card: Cora, thanks for the date. Rye. And then did his best to switch into work mode. He had a video conference with the Geotech, who also emailed his report. Rye had done a lot of geology courses while getting his engineering degree, but the country club project was going to call for some ground improvement, which Cora’s company just wasn’t equipped for.
 

After the conference, he decided to hand-deliver the report to Cora because by the time he was finished, it was nearly three in the afternoon, and he missed her. The feeling didn’t upset him; he was just surprised by it. That he could care enough for a woman to miss her seemed a small miracle.
 

He took the report to her office, knocked twice, and went in. “Hey, boss,” he said.
 

She looked up, smiled, and turned bright red. The flowers sat dead center on her desk, and the way she jerked her hand away, Rye surmised she’d been touching them. “Rye,” she said, as though she was surprised to see him, as though he didn’t work down the hall from her every day.

“I met with the Geotech…here’s what he said.” He tossed the report on her desk. “He’ll get us some estimates within the next few days.”

“Okay. You could have just emailed this.”

He sat in the chair across from her desk. “Wanted to see you.”

She blushed and actually giggled. “Um, yeah. I almost called you yesterday, but I didn’t know if I should.”

“Call me anytime you want, Cora.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

She exhaled and smiled at him. He felt like a god.

“So,” he said, the least bit nervous all of a sudden, “wanna grab a beer after work?”

“Sure.”

Relief. What the hell was this? He was acting like a teenage boy who’d never asked out a girl. No wonder he’d had that unfortunate incident Saturday night. “You wanna go grab a beer now?” he asked since he didn’t want to wait even an hour and a half.

Her grin widened. “Sure. Let me wrap some things up. I’ll meet you at Darcy’s.”

He left but decided to wait in the parking lot. He leaned back against his truck with his arms folded over his chest and watched the door of the office building. Several people came and went before the only person he cared about walked out the door. Her blond hair blew back in the breeze as she dug for her keys in her purse. Rye waited for her to look up before he approached her. She froze for a moment before smiling. He took her by the elbow and led her to his truck. Thankfully, she went without argument.

There was hardly anyone at Darcy’s at four o’clock on a Monday afternoon. Rye and Cora sat at the bar, drank beer, and talked business. But business talk in which he spent half his time barely listening, touching her hair, touching her hand, smiling and wondering if she was feeling the same way he was. After that, they played pool. But pool in which he lost every game because he couldn’t keep his hands steady and his mind on the table.
 

He was falling hard.

A little before six o’clock, Adam strolled in, looking sophisticated in his lawyer clothes—suit, tie, slicked back hair. Rye took notice of him before returning his attention to Cora’s ass, directly in front of him, in prime position as she leaned over the table to take her shot.
 

Adam got himself a beer and then moved to their table, lounging against the wall to watch. At that point, Rye didn’t feel he ought to be leering quite so obviously, so he forced himself to step to the side and examine the table.
 

“How’s the birthday party planning going?” Adam asked.

Rye glanced at him to make sure he wasn’t speaking to him, which wouldn’t make sense since he didn’t know anything about any birthday party. Cora hitched that shoulder of hers, before taking her shot. “About like you’d expect. They shoot down all of my ideas, then come up with outrageous ones of their own, and then ask me to pay for it all. So I don’t get to do anything fun like decorate. But I have to buy the decorations.”

“Don’t pretend you’re disappointed about not decorating.”

She snorted and took another shot. “I know. It’s just the principle of the thing.”

“Well, my schedule’s cleared. I wouldn’t want to miss the annual homage to the royal Noreen McKay. I assume I’m your date again.”

She looked at him and bit her bottom lip and then glanced at Rye. “Actually, I might have a date…I don’t know yet.”

Rye grinned big and proud.
 

Adam glared at him and then back to Cora. “You’re seriously thinking about taking this ape to your mother’s birthday party? The privileged of Fidelity will be apoplectic.”

Rye shook his head and tried not to get pissed. He knew that though the two of them had never been romantic, Adam was still territorial about her. It would just take some time to nudge Adam gently out of the way.

“He’s not an ape, Adam. Please don’t insult my new friend.”

Rye’s eyebrows shot up at this. She was drawing a line. He’d earned enough of her trust to have her defend him. Pretty cool.