Corinne’s gaze stayed steady on his, no signs of timidity or embarrassment or fear of rejection. “I’m done waffling, done worrying, done wondering what I did to deserve you. At the end of the day, at the end of the night, I want you. Now, we can stick to your original plan if that’s what you really want, but if you’re hanging out in the slow lane because you think it’s what I need, let me assure you, it’s not.”
There was absolutely nothing slow about what was going through his mind as she reached across the table to lay her hand over his.
“You’ve given me everything I need. You gave me kindness and friendship, and you made me feel like a person with value for the first time in I don’t know how long.”
His heart gave a hard, painful lurch, both happy he’d managed that and aching that it had been necessary. “Corinne.” Tucker turned his hand over to curl around hers.
“Let me finish.” She wasn’t so blasé now, and he could feel the faint trembling through their linked fingers. “I don’t know if it’s forever or just for now, and I’m okay with that. But I’m tired of standing still. I want to move forward. With you.”
~*~
Corinne waited, her heart in her throat, as Tucker stared at her, dumbstruck. And why shouldn’t he? He was the consummate Southern gentleman and she’d essentially propositioned him. As the silence spun out between them, her hard-won confidence slowly evaporated.
His throat worked. She knew him well enough to understand he was considering his words carefully.
Had she disappointed him? Shocked him? Did he prefer the meek version of her that needed saving?
“Tom went to a lot of trouble tonight. I can’t just ask for the check, throw you over my shoulder, and run.”
The relieved laugh burst out. “I hadn’t actually intended to bring it up quite yet. It seemed an appropriate topic for dessert.”
“I have never wanted to start a meal with dessert so much in my life.”
The fear that had crept in slid away at the hunger in his eyes. “I was afraid we weren’t on the same page.”
“Believe me, I’ve been reading way ahead. But I didn’t want to give away any spoilers in case we weren’t actually reading the same book.”
Where did his version of their story end? Tucker McGee wasn’t a casual fling sort of guy. She’d never been a casual fling kind of girl. As much as she was ready to do this, she wasn’t to the point of imagining puppies, rainbows, and white picket fences. She’d known too much harsh reality for that. But she’d meant what she’d said. Forever or for now, she wanted him. After so long spent merely surviving, tonight, she wanted to live.
Tom came back to take their orders.
Somehow, despite the heat crackling between them, they both managed to relax into some semblance of normalcy. They had the proper date he’d wanted, enjoying excellent food and adult conversation. He talked of law school and theater, filling in the gaps since they’d graduated high school. She told him of her elopement and surprised him with all the world travels in the years before her marriage had turned into a prison. Beneath it all, desire simmered at a low hum.
When her wine glass was empty and the check paid, Tucker offered his hand. “Still want dessert?”
Corinne laid her hand in his. “Dessert and a dance seems like the perfect end to a perfect evening.”
They said little on the drive back to his place. His thumb stroked the side of hers and the heat seemed to build between their palms. She wanted those palms on her skin. He pulled into the private lot behind the building housing his law office and led her upstairs to his apartment. Shutting the door behind them, he turned into her, pressing her back into the door, his hands curving around her hips as he took her mouth in a kiss that hid nothing of his carnal intent. All the civility melted away, and she pressed into him, her hand fisting in his shirt to drag him closer. The bed could wait. She was completely good with the door.
When he broke off, she whimpered in protest.
“Be right back.”
He stepped away. Corinne stayed where she was, blindly setting her clutch on the entry table as he moved around the apartment, lighting candles. Candles. He was a man who could incinerate her with a kiss against a door, and he kept candles. He moved to the stereo. Of course there’d be music for this. It seemed Tucker was always surrounded by music. He liked to set the scene. And tonight’s scene would be romance. She hadn’t counted on that, and her heart hitched because he would take the time to do it. For her.
Tucker came back and took both her hands in his, drawing her into the room. “Want wine?”
She shook her head, eyes on his.
Music spilled out of the speakers, dark, throbbing strings that made her heart ache with longing. He pulled her into his arms, into the dance. Corinne realized that here, now, there’d be no eroding that endless patience of his. This would be no quick, mindless meeting of bodies. This wouldn’t be simple. He wasn’t simple.
Pulse thick in her throat, she followed where he led, her body responding to the press of his as if she’d just been waiting for him to flip the switch to bring her back to life. His hands skimmed over her, lighting little fires in their wake. She lost herself to the music, to sensation as he bent his head, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. The contrast of hunger and care unraveled her. It wasn’t until his hands stroked up her back, to the knot at the neck of her dress that she realized they’d made it into the bedroom.
His eyes met hers, dark with desire. Corinne pressed her lips to his, threading her fingers into the hair at his nape as he worked the knot free. The fabric slithered down her shoulders, the dress held up now only by the press of his body to
hers, and nerves jittered. She’d been with no one since Lance. She’d had a child. Her body wasn’t what it had been.
Tucker’s hands came up to frame her face as he eased back. The dress slid down, catching on her hips, baring her breasts. Feeling exposed, Corinne flexed her fingers in the fabric of his shirt and fought the urge to press against him and hide. Stretch marks and mommy tummy were not attractive.