Not the plan, p.11
Not the Plan, page 11
* * *
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She swung the door open and had to squeeze the knob hard. His fitted dark green T-shirt accentuated the V formed from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist. He hadn’t shaved, but he was wearing his glasses again, and the contrast between rugged-sexy and nerdy-cute made her knees weak.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiled.
Good morning, you sexy motherfucker.
“Hi there,” she said. His appraisal made her hope he had a similar thought. He tipped his gorgeous head to the side.
“Do you mind if I kiss you?”
A chill went down her spine.
I want you to do a whole lot more than kiss me. I gotta slow this down, though.
She offered him her cheek. He raised his eyebrows but accepted it, giving her a light peck. Her nostrils filled with cool and woodsy and male. All those delicious man smells she wanted in her bedsheets.
“Ready to roll?” he asked.
“Yep.” She grabbed her bag and locked the door. He led the way down the stairs.
The back was as good as the front. She shook her head and touched her fingertips to her lips. She wanted to slide a hand into his back pocket so she could feel if his butt was tight and hot up close. Then it wasn’t moving anymore. He’d caught her staring and his lips were twitching, holding back a laugh.
“See something you like?” he teased.
She ducked her head and shrugged her shoulders. “Guilty,” she said.
He opened the passenger door for her.
“It’s okay,” he said, getting into the car. “I like what I see too.” He glanced down at her legs, up to her breasts. The heat that bloomed up her neck forced her to let out a sigh.
He started the car and was about to unlock the emergency brake, when she changed her mind.
“Wait,” she said. She leaned over and kissed him, properly this time, teasing his mouth open, sliding her tongue along his, caressing his jaw and neck. He smiled against her lips, letting her lead. When he reached for her cheek, she released him with a satisfied moan, and returned to her seat. Flipping the visor down, she pretended to check her lipstick in the mirror, savoring the dazed expression on his face.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”
“What was that?” He was even sexier, happy and confused, but the drive hadn’t started, and she’d let her desire leapfrog her logic.
“A little much? Sorry. You said you wanted a kiss before…” She smoothed her skirt down her thighs, fiddling with the hem.
“Uh no, no. I am not complaining. Not at all. Feel free to surprise me like that any time you want.” He laughed. She joined him, her cheeks warming.
“Cool,” she said.
He backed out of the space and drove out of her neighborhood, headed toward the freeway.
“Just one thing,” he said. “Didn’t have time to fill up. Need to stop and get some gas.”
“Okay.”
“AC, windows, or top down?” he asked.
“AC, please.” She ran a hand down the leather of her seat. There was a hint of new car smell, but not much.
“You said this is your car?” she asked. “I mean, I can tell it isn’t a rental, but I didn’t realize convertibles were popular in Pennsylvania.”
He ran a hand down his face and shot her a glance.
“Promise not to make fun?” he asked.
“Of course. Why would I?”
His squeeze and release of the steering wheel was a surprise. She’d have to get to know him better to be sure, but it seemed like he was nervous all of a sudden.
“Karim?” She modulated her tone, going for light but honest. “I’m…uh…not a car person. I hope you don’t think I’d judge you because of the type of car you drive.”
“No! No,” he said. “I don’t…” Tapering off, he chanced a longer look at her. She wasn’t a fan of the insecurity she caught in his eyes.
“Do you think I would make fun of you?” she asked.
He’d returned his gaze to the road and kept it there, shaking his head.
“No,” he said, sounding more confident. “You aren’t like that, are you?”
Surprised by the emphasis he’d put on “you,” she shook her head. “I’m not.”
He gripped and released the wheel again.
“I bought it as soon as I got here.”
She checked out the dash, the seats, the gear shift. She was lost.
“Not too much of a cliché? Guy moves to California and the first thing he does is buy a convertible?” He pulled up to a pump at an older gas station.
“Oh. It seems like a nice car. Do you like it?”
“Yeah.” He unbuckled his seat belt.
She shrugged. “Well, there you go, that’s all that matters.”
“Thanks,” he said, giving her his shy-boy smile. His back-and-forth between sexy and shy was beyond unfair.
“Sit tight, beautiful. I gotta go inside to pay.”
“Why don’t you let me pump?” she asked. “And would you mind grabbing a bottle of water for me?”
“Okay. No problem.”
She got out and removed the nozzle, sliding it into the opening for the gas tank. The weather was excellent, and on any other day she would have relaxed into it, but her nerves were getting in the way. It was a good nervousness, though. A curiosity. She fidgeted, rocking on the balls of her feet. The pump clicked, and the gas started flowing. A large pickup pulled up to a pump behind her. There was a whistle behind her and even though she doubted that was Karim’s style, she turned with a smile in her eyes. It was one of the guys in the pickup.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he said, closing the driver’s-side door. She ignored him, facing the street again.
“That is one nice piece of ass,” he said to his friend in the truck. “Where you going this fine morning?” He stepped over to her side of the pump.
“Nowhere,” she said, straightening her spine.
“Now, there’s no reason to be like that,” he said. “Me and my boy over here were headed out to the state park. Why don’t you join us?” His friend got out and joined the man speaking to her. And, as bad luck would have it, the light breeze she’d been enjoying a few moments earlier made her skirt billow up, showing the two cretins too much of her thighs. She took a calming breath, gritting her teeth.
“Morning, gentlemen.” Karim appeared behind her. He fixed the first man in a cold stare, not enough to provoke, but enough to be clear. He slid his hand down Isadora’s back. “Ready to go, baby?” he asked, studying the two men. She didn’t want to go all damsel-in-distress, but she could have fallen into his arms from relief.
“Almost.” The pump clicked. The tank was full.
“Uh, morning, dude,” the first man said as the other scampered back into the truck. Isadora returned the nozzle to the pump. Karim moved around her and toward the driver’s door, studying the first man.
“Hey, uh, no harm, no foul?” The man backed up, tripping over his own feet.
“No harm? You called her a ‘nice piece of ass.’ ” Karim didn’t open his door. Isadora walked around the back of the car to the passenger side. “An apology is in order.”
“Look, I didn’t mean anything by that.” He turned to Isadora. “You understand?”
She paused, opening her door.
“Didn’t mean anything by it when you thought I was alone, but another man calls you on it and suddenly it’s an inappropriate thing to say?”
The man peered at Karim, who’d raised his eyebrows.
“I…I don’t…”
“Have anything useful to add,” Karim finished for him, opening his door. “Good day to you. And your boy.” He nodded at Isadora, and they got into the car. About to drive away, the man delivered a parting shot.
“Fucking towel head! You can keep your little black bitch!” He gunned his engine and sped off. Karim’s jaw visibly clenched as he turned on the engine and headed toward the freeway.
“And here I thought moving to California meant I didn’t have to deal with that anymore,” he said.
Isadora shook her head, looking out her window. “Nah, it’s here too. Doesn’t make it to the travel brochures, but it’s here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said after a mile or two.
“Why are you sorry?” she asked. “You came to my rescue.” And I liked it when you called me “baby.”
His jaw relaxed. “You think?”
“Yes. It felt good. Especially because there were two of them.”
“I didn’t like that either,” he said. His face got tight again. Stopped at the light before the on-ramp, he focused straight ahead, lips pressed together.
“Look at me, please,” she said. “I think you handled it splendidly.” She stroked his cheek. The light changed, and she noticed first, flitting her gaze toward it. He followed the van in front of them, onto the on-ramp.
“You do?” he asked.
“I do. You made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Protected. I liked it.”
“Yeah?” His blush through the sexy scruff made her heart skip a beat.
“I did. Now let’s forget about them. We have the whole day together. How about some music?” She settled into her seat as the car sped up.
He relaxed, flicking the radio on as he merged onto the wide stretch of road. Cruising along at a good speed, he picked up her hand and swept his delicious lips across the back.
Another urge to stroke his cheek in response renewed her concerns. She returned to her goal, angling herself toward him in the seat and tucking her hands into her elbows to keep them off him.
“You were in Pennsylvania before you moved here. Is that where you’re originally from?” she asked.
“No.” He glanced at her with a cute bend to his lips. “I’m from Michigan. Grosse Pointe. Near Detroit.”
“Oh,” she said. “Never been. I…um…I guess it gets cold there?”
He chuckled. “You could say that. Growing up there, then living in Virginia and Pennsylvania, made California even more attractive.”
“I bet.” She nodded. “Pennsylvania to California. That’s really far. Not too drastic of a change?” Her gaze slid to his arm, trickling over the ridge of his deltoid, down to the cuff of his T-shirt, taut over a golden biceps.
“Uh, no,” he said. “What about you? California native?” He glanced at her before she anticipated it and caught her ogling him again.
Heat flashed into her cheeks and she hid her face in her hands as he chuckled.
“Sorry! Oh God, sorry.” She shook her head, turning away from him. “I’m a transplant too. Undergrad and master’s at Berkeley. Then I stayed.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he laughed, glancing at her again.
“Yes, I do! Excuse me.” She covered her eyes. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’d be checking you out too, if it wouldn’t get us both killed.” He winked at her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She observed him another moment, her lips bunched to one side.
“You have created a conundrum, Mr. Sarda.”
“Have I? How so?”
She racked her brain to find a cool, yet diplomatic, yet sexy and not desperate-sounding way to explain. A pinball in a machine, bouncing and zooming from one point to another, would have had more clarity about its situation than she did. She gritted her teeth.
“Can I be blunt with you? Honest?”
He glanced at her, like he was afraid he was in trouble.
“Please do.”
“I had a very naughty dream about you last night.”
He laughed. “Really?” The visible half of his face turned wicked. A wicked that sent a sizzle over her breasts, down her stomach, and forced her to readjust herself in her seat.
“Can you tell me about it?” he asked.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Don’t you need to concentrate on driving?”
“Good point, Isadora. But…uh…I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”
“You had one too?” The idea sent a cool tingle all through her. She became more glowing orb than zooming pinball.
“I did. Well, when I got home, I was rather tense. So, I needed to relax a bit before I went to sleep.” He released and re-gripped the steering wheel, readjusted himself in the seat. She couldn’t believe he was admitting to thinking about her that way. “That little exercise set me up for a couple of explicit dreams.”
“I see.”
He glanced at her, his smile dimming. “Did I offend you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Telling you I…um…”
“No,” she said. You said be blunt. Be. Blunt. “I’m surprised how much that…turned me on.” She focused on the scenery. The glow abated but lit right back up when she peeked at him.
“Turned you on?”
“Yes,” she said, nervous. But the truth tasted good.
“I see.” His wicked smile flashed again. “So?”
“So?”
“You gotta tell me about this dream.”
She fidgeted, holding her breath a moment. “Okay, fine,” she sighed. “We were at your place. Well, it wasn’t mine.”
He changed his grip on the wheel and nodded.
“We were in your bedroom. My dress from last night was on the floor.”
He switched the radio off.
“I was in your bed, you were stalking toward me, undoing—” She froze. “No, this is wrong…it’s embarrassing.”
“You aren’t gonna stop now?”
“Well, it’s…I don’t do this, Karim. Flings, or even relationships. I don’t know how. This is why you are a conundrum. This is something I don’t do, but all of a sudden, I really, really want to.”
The hum of the car on the freeway filled the empty space. Mortified at what she’d let slip, she was also nauseated from the attraction. The violent pull, the running away, the release from the previous night. She was a pinball again and even the machine was shaking.
“You’re right,” he said. “It is a conundrum. I’m sorry, I…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Her reply lodged in her throat. She’d messed everything up and now there were hours of awkward ahead of them. He tapped the radio, turning a podcast on. And then the smallest movement registered in the corner of her eye. He swiped the pad of his thumb at the base of his left ring finger.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Karim
A second podcast ended, and he suggested lunch.
“Have you tried Roy’s? The burger joint up ahead?” he asked.
“Nope. Seen it a few times, but I haven’t tried it.” She gave him a tight smile. “Guess you heard my stomach growling?”
“No. Just felt mine. Does it sound good to you?”
“Perfect,” she said.
* * *
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After picking up their order, they went outside to eat in the fresh air. The large trees protecting the picnic benches didn’t block out the freeway noise, but the patrons were spared the view. It had gotten much warmer, allowing Karim to enjoy the graceful slope of Isadora’s shoulders in her tank top.
Their first meal together gave him a lot of details to study about the alluring woman across the table from him. She half rolled her French fries in her ketchup—only one or two at a time. After each bite, she centered her hamburger on its paper and in the basket on her tray. Both her lips and her fingers remained pristine, despite the messy meal. She did it all with grace and femininity.
Who knew it was possible to eat a hamburger with femininity? Then he realized she’d asked him a question.
“I’m sorry?”
“You seem tense,” she said. “What’s on your mind?”
About a billion things, he wanted to say.
He vacillated long enough that he sensed her sliding into uncomfortable. He caught himself bouncing his leg, the desire to be honest with her pushing hard against the fear.
“It’s about earlier, isn’t it?” she asked. “That was too much. I’m sorry.” She squinted, avoiding eye contact.
“Sorry? For what?”
“Maybe I went too far. Shouldn’t have said anything about my dream.” She shrugged and looked away, rubbing the outside of one arm.
“Please don’t apologize,” he said. “This has been one of the best Sundays I can remember.” Heat crept into his face, he rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “And all I want is more. But I’m afraid.”
If he hadn’t been so nervous, the scrunch of her brow would have been adorable.
“Of me?”
He slid a hand across his forehead, massaging above his brows. “Of what you’ll think of me.”
“Have you murdered someone, Karim?”
He chuckled. “No. Can I be blunt with you? Honest?”
“Please.” She nodded.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “I moved here because my wife left me, and I wanted to start over in a completely new place. I wanted to rebuild professionally and intended to avoid any sort of sexual or romantic connection for the foreseeable future. It is clearly unwise, considering who we both work for; and beyond that, the timing might not be the best. But, from this side of the table, it looks like we could be heading in a very specific direction, and I don’t want to fight it anymore, even though every bit of logic is telling me that I should.”
She’d glanced at his bare ring finger at the word “wife” but said nothing. He’d purposely given her the bare bones of the story, still ashamed of having put up with an abusive relationship for years. He gave her a few moments to absorb everything, willing her to say something, anything. So, there he sat, in a temperate, blue-skied purgatory that was getting harder and harder to bear.
