Desperate Measures

  Aimee felt bad for him. Poor guy. He had an artist’s soul but a policeman’s hands. She looked down at their interlaced fingers, noticing that her hand was tiny compared to his. She tried not to stare at his thick wrist and bulging veins, but it was almost impossible after the conversations she’d had with Elizabeth and Kiki. She looked away, back out toward the lake, trying to shake thoughts of his probably amazing body parts out of her mind.

  “What are you thinking about right now? I saw you get a panicked look again.”

  “I can’t tell you. It’s too embarrassing.”

  “I promise I won’t laugh.”

  “Oh, God, no way am I confessing that one.” She stood up. “Come on. Let’s walk some more.”

  He stood up next to her, and she started to go, but her heel got caught on a piece of gravel, throwing her off balance. He caught and steadied her, his body rubbing up against hers as she gained her footing.

  Aimee’s breath hitched as she felt his hard form through the flimsy material of her dress. He still had his hands on her, and they were very warm, the heat radiating into her skin. The scent of his cologne drifted past her nose; it wasn’t overwhelming, just a light woodsiness that hinted of maleness. She looked up to see him staring down at her with his baby blues.

  Neither of them said a word.

  Aimee stared at his eyes and then his lips. She wanted to kiss him so badly, but then again, she was scared as hell to do it. What if I’ve forgotten how? What if I’m terrible at it?

  She didn’t have much time to worry about it, though, because his head dipped toward hers while his hands slid up her arms to hold her shoulders gently.

  Their lips touched.

  Her first sensation was that of surprise. Here he was … this giant, muscled man … but he had the softest lips. Her heart immediately started hammering away, as the kiss deepened and his arms went around her back. She soon realized she needn’t have worried about knowing how to kiss this man; their mouths moved in perfect harmony, both of them seeming to know exactly when and how to entangle their tongues together. Her hands moved of their own accord, going around his neck, her fingers touching the hair there lightly.

  It was a heady sensation, this sexy heat and rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She could tell he was enjoying this as much as she was. His head tilted to the side to bring the kiss to another level. The place between her legs started to tingle, and had to stop herself from grinding into him. When his hand moved down to press against her backside, she realized how excited he’d become right along with her. His hard length felt like it was practically laying against her nakedly, the thin material of her dress no barrier to the sensation.

  The sound of nearby voices and gravel crunching under walking feet was like an instant cold shower. Aimee stepped back, breaking their connection and putting an end to the heavy petting that was starting to make her think crazy things - like the fact that having sex outdoors in a public park might be fun.

  Joe grabbed her hands and pulled her back slowly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, before kissing her neck gently one time and standing up straight again. “Wow, Aimee. I’m …” He dropped one of her hands to run his fingers through his hair, a confused expression on his face. “I’m not exactly sure what happened there. I didn’t intend to maul you like that.”

  Aimee smiled shyly. “I’m not sure who was doing the mauling - you or me. But don’t apologize. I liked it.”

  Joe smiled back. “Be careful. I don’t need much encouragement. You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

  He was gazing into her eyes so seriously, she didn’t know what to do other than blush. And blush she did. She could feel her ears burning brightly.

  “Okay. I’m embarrassing you now. And I don’t want you running away from me because I’m being too intense, so what do you say we get out of here and go to dinner, before I lose my mind again?”

  “Good idea,” Aimee said, glad he was making the smart decision to leave this tempting place, since she obviously lacked the strength to do it herself.

  They got back into the car and Joe took her to a cute little Italian restaurant, where they were immediately seated in a nice little alcove with a view of a quaint garden complete with trickling fountain. The owner had greeted Joe like an old friend, giving him a robust hug and a kiss on the cheek, before escorting them to this private spot.

  “Wow, this is really nice,” said Aimee, looking around. “I’ve never been here before.”

  “The owner is an old friend,” said Joe.

  “I could tell. He looked like a big fan of yours.”

  Joe shrugged. “He’s a good guy. He’s got a huge family. He’s brought lots of his Italian relatives over here. He’s an immigrant himself but loves being an American. He got his citizenship ten years ago.” Joe opened up the menus that had been delivered by a waitress. “All of their pastas are homemade, and the pasta faglioli soup is out of this world. It’s made fresh every day with a family recipe that’s hundreds of years old.”

  Aimee perused the selection. “There are too many things here. I can’t choose.”

  “Well, I’ve had everything at least once. Some many times over. I recommend the ravioli and the lasagna. You can’t go wrong with the classics.”

  Aimee shut her menu. “I’ll take the ravioli.”

  “Good choice,” he said, setting his menu down.

  A waitress arrived and took their orders. As soon as she was gone, Joe folded his hands loosely and rested his forearms on the table. “So, Aimee. Tell me about yourself.”

  She felt immediately uncomfortable, not knowing what to say, but pretty sure he didn’t want to hear about the sad sorry state of affairs that was her life right now. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me where you grew up.”

  “That’s easy. Here. Outside of Orlando, in Maitland.”

  “And have you always lived here?”

  “Yep. Jack … my soon-to-be-ex-husband … started his law practice when I was still in college, so we kind of had to stay.”

  “Well, you don’t have to stay now, since you’re almost divorced. Will you? Stay, I mean?”

  She looked into his eyes and it didn’t seem like he was just asking her a casual question. The answer seemed to mean something to him. Or maybe she was just reading too much into the look on his face and the tone of his voice. “I’m going to stay. I’m starting a business with my two friends, so this is my home for good.”

  Joe smiled, seeming satisfied with her answer. “Me too.”

  “What about you?” Aimee asked. “Have you always lived here? What do you do when you’re not working? Do you play any sports?” Are you seeing someone? Divorced? Married? Please, please don’t say you’re married.

  “Well, let’s see … no, I haven’t always lived here. I moved down here from Syracuse in high school and stayed. When I’m not working, I coach little league baseball and work with a couple committees putting together benefits to raise money for breast cancer research. I also like to watch football sometimes, soccer too during World Cup time. I like movies and reading a lot.”

  “And long walks on the beach?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. But I wasn’t going to admit that.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. That’s nice that you do the coaching thing. Do you have a son who plays?” Aimee tried to act casual with the question, picking up a crunchy breadstick and taking a bite. But the effect was totally ruined when the thing exploded and threw bread shrapnel everywhere, including over onto his placemat. “Oops. Sorry,” she said, trying to collect the crumbs into a pile.

  “Don’t worry about it. It happens to me all the time. To answer your question, no, I don’t have a son. Or a daughter for that matter. No kids. And no ex-wives if you’re wondering.”

  “Oh, no. Me? No.” She looked at him and saw a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, yes. I confess. I’m wondering what a guy like you is doing single
and unattached. You are single, right? And not gay?” she asked weakly. Oh please don’t let him be dating someone else.

  Joe laughed. “Wow. It’s been a long time since someone’s accused me of that. No, I’m not gay. And I’m single, I guess because I’m picky. I date now and again, but if I don’t feel something pretty much right away, I don’t bother going out a second time. I don’t like to waste my time or anyone else’s, going after something that isn’t going to be able to turn into something more.”

  “Oh, crap,” she said, slight disappointment coloring her words.

  “What? What’s ‘oh, crap’?”

  “Well, I was just thinking that if you don’t call me tomorrow, I’ll know why. I’m not sure if I like it that way or if I just prefer to wonder and guess about the mysteries of what a guy might be thinking.”

  He reached over and took her hand. “I’m going to call tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “But how can you say that now? You hardly know me.” She wanted to believe it. She really, really wanted to believe it, but it seemed so far-fetched. Love at first sight doesn’t really happen … does it? And certainly not to me. I’m pressuring him. Guys hate that. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?

  “I know you better than you realize. How about this: you are a beautiful woman who has been married to a guy who didn’t appreciate her for over ten years. You’ve kept to yourself, at home, because that’s how he wanted it. You’ve always put his needs first, and it’s made you unhappy - but now you’re making changes to have a better life for yourself. You’re funny and like to laugh. You care a lot about your friends and worry about their happiness. You love deeply and you can cook your butt off.” He squeezed her hand. “How am I doing so far?”

  “Wow. Pretty good, actually. You’re either really intuitive, or you’ve been stalking me. Tell me more.”

  “Okay,” he said, warming up to the idea and leaning in a little closer while he dropped his voice. “You like me, but you’re afraid of your feelings. You’re wondering if I’m going to try and sleep with you tonight, and if it would be any good if you said yes.”

  Aimee whispered back before she could think to stop herself, “Are you? Going to ask me?”

  “That’s what I’m doing right now,” he whispered, lifting an eyebrow and making her nearly swoon with the sexiness of it.

  Aimee pulled her hand away and sat back, fanning her face with her napkin. She cleared her throat. “Um … I have to use the ladies’ room.” She stood up suddenly and grabbed her purse, escaping to the safety of the bathroom without looking back.

  She pulled her phone out of her bag as soon as she got inside and called Kiki. Kiki picked up after the third ring and Aimee wasted no time with pleasantries. “Kiki! Oh my god! I need some advice. He just asked me if I would sleep with him tonight, and I am freaking out. Freaking. Out! What should I say? What should I do?”

  Kiki laughed. “Whoa, slow down there. What did you just say? He asked you to sleep with him? Where are you? At his place?”

  “No, I’m in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

  “He asked you in the ladies bathroom?”

  “No, dummy, he asked me back at the table.”

  “And you ran away to the bathroom to call me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I admit it, I panicked.”

  “Okay, this is easy. Do you want to sleep with him?”

  “I’m not sure!”

  “Do you stare at his hands and wonder what his dick looks like?”

  “Maybe. Okay, yes.”

  “Do you look at his eyes and lips and imagine them worshipping your body?”

  “Oh, shit. Yes.”

  “Do you look at him and wonder what he’d look like naked … and then get all hot and bothered about it?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then put the damn phone away and go back there and tell him you want to jump his bones. Goodbye.”

  Aimee stared at the disconnected phone in her hand. “I guess I have my answer,” she said to the empty toilet stalls.

  She took a few minutes to collect herself and check her makeup and hair. Everything seemed to be in order - no lipstick on the teeth, no stray hairs messing up her ‘do. She had no more reasons to stay in the bathroom, and if she continued to postpone the inevitable, she knew she risked destroying the mood that had come over them. And that would be a damn shame, she thought to herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited about the idea of sex. Being with Jack was about as exciting as Monday night football for her, which was about as arousing as watching paint dry.

  Aimee sat down at the table and immediately noticed Joe’s smile. He wasn’t mad. Thank goodness for that.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Much.”

  “Sorry I scared you. I’ll try to control myself from now on.”

  “No! I mean … no, please. I’m fine. I liked what you said. It’s just … I’m not used to playing those games.”

  “It’s not a game, Aimee. I was serious.” His smile left his face.

  “No, I know that. I don’t mean games like you don’t mean it. I meant like … you know. Lover games.”

  “Oh. I see.” He visibly relaxed and started to say something else, but their conversation was interrupted by the delivery of their meals.

  They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, waiting while the waitress refilled their water glasses and offered them freshly-grated parmesan cheese. Aimee sat there the whole time hoping they could move beyond this awkward moment. It felt like some of her fears were coming true. She had dorked out and possibly scared him off. She tried not to be sad about it. It wasn’t like he was her boyfriend or anything, or that he had broken up with her. She’d been out of the dating game for a really long time, but she was still pretty sure you couldn’t break up with someone after only one date.

  “What do you think?” Joe asked. He motioned toward her food.

  “Oh! About the food! It’s good.” She chewed a little more and paid attention to what she was eating, instead of focusing on her worries about her love life. “I mean, it’s really good,” she amended. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. This place is great. I come here once a week.”

  “So you’re a regular. That’s nice. For them.”

  “Yeah. The food is always consistent. Always good. That’s important. I hate going somewhere and not knowing what I’m going to get. If it’s the kind of place that’s great one day and terrible the next, I’d rather not take my chances.”

  “Consistency is the key, is what you’re saying.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Kiki and Elizabeth and I are opening a cafe bakery shop. I agree with you - I think being consistent is important in the food business.”

  “You gonna sell those cookies I tasted today?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Well, if the rest of your stuff is as good as those were, I have no doubt that you’ll be successful.”

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling all warm inside again.

  “You have such a pretty smile, Aimee. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  She blushed. “Not that I can remember.”

  “What a shame. A girl like you should hear that every day of her life.”

  “A girl like me?”

  “Sweet, pretty, nice to people, caring. Pick your adjective.”

  “You flatter me,” she said, looking down at her plate. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to compliment him back, since it felt like she would just be doing it in response to his kind words.

  “Truth,” he said, before putting a big bite of spaghetti in his mouth.

  The rest of the meal of pasta and bread passed by quickly. Conversation turned to work, and Aimee learned that Joe was up for a promotion soon. If he got it, he’d no longer be driving around in a patrol car. He was thinking about becoming a detective.

 
“The only downside is, I won’t be out there in a position to come rescue you,” he said, sounding halfway serious.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t plan on getting into anymore situations with you-know-who. I have a lawyer now, and we’re hoping to push the divorce through quickly.”

  “Well, that’s good news.”

  The waitress came and took their plates away. Aimee looked down at her placemat and then at Joe’s, immediately going red in the face again. His was perfectly clean - not a spot on it. Hers was covered in oil stains, sauce blobs, and bread crumbs, plus a few other things she couldn’t identify. Oh my god, I’m such a slob! How embarrassing.

  Joe followed her gaze and said nothing. He just picked up his placemat with one hand and grabbed the edge of hers with his other, sliding it over until it rested in front of him, and gently deposited his clean one in front of her.

  Aimee sat there, stunned. He had read her mind and done the simplest, yet sweetest, most gentlemanly gesture he possibly could have. All without being asked. It made her nearly cry. She looked up at Joe, with misty eyes. “Thank you. That was very sweet.”

  “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His tone said it all. This was the kind of consideration a guy like Joe gave to women as a matter of course. It’s just who he was.

  Aimee had never met a man like him before. And now she was worried she’d lose him before she’d get a chance to really experience what it felt like to be cared for and protected. The idea made her sad.

  Joe tilted his head. “What’s wrong, babe? You look bummed all of a sudden. Is it because I’m so messy?”

  She smiled at that. “You really are messy. Look at all the stains on your placemat. How embarrassing.”

  “I’m hoping you won’t hold it against me. Maybe you can just look at it as part of my quirky charm.”

  “Is that what it is? Quirky charm?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’m not so sure quirky charm is such a good thing.”

  “Oh, trust me. It is. Can’t be faked, and it’s rare. I’ve been looking for someone with it for a long time. I always had a soft spot for it myself.”