Consumed by a Stranger (Craved Series #4) (6 page)

I
was normally a nervous dater. History had proven that Murphy's Law seemed to
apply more consistently to my love life than anywhere else. 

But
I was so comfortable with Jack. It was an ease I imagined people only felt after
they'd been with someone for years, someone who consistently chose to wake up
in the morning and love them for another day for so many days in a row that
they could finally relax.

And
while I'd never had that, this fleeting glimpse of it was compelling, like a
bright light it wasn’t safe to stare at.

I
was used to feeling so much pressure to impress guys. I was always conscious of
my body language, how hard I laughed at their jokes, and how often other women
caught their eye. 

But
I didn't have to worry about that with Jack. His posture was relaxed but
unaggressive, I couldn’t help but laugh at his jokes, and as far as I could
tell, he hadn't even noticed how attractive our waitress was. 

So
basically, the pressure was off because he was clearly already impressed by me.
And if what he was saying was an accurate reflection of what he was thinking,
then he craved me more than any man ever had before. 

And
it was thrilling. It reminded me of the moment you realize the popular guy in
your high school class with the great hair actually knows your name and your
heart skips a beat. 

…Right
before he asks you about some other girl. 

Of
course, I desperately wanted to believe Jack’s feelings were genuine, but I
didn't see how I had anything he could want. He certainly wasn't after me for
my small apartment or my credit card debt. 

He’d
been emphatic about loving my body, but I had all the same parts as everyone else.
Therefore, the only conclusion I could draw was that he’d either picked up a
parasite from drinking some bad water in Thailand or he actually liked me for
me. 

Just
me. 

I
watched him from across the table as he looked out over the city. The sight of
his strong jaw was enough to make me wet. And I knew he was a good guy, but how
could I be sure he wouldn't hurt me? 

It’s
not like I could just travel the world with him. And I couldn’t expect him to
move to Seattle.

I
mean, I know he said he wanted me a bunch of times, but his flattery didn’t change
the fact that everything was up in the air. 

And
obviously I wanted him, too, but I was used to wanting things I couldn’t have.
I wanted better skin and a firmer butt and a bigger bank balance and a self-cleaning
apartment. But wanting and having were two different things, and I wasn't sure
if wanting was enough these days. 

Life
just wasn't that easy or straightforward. 

Not
for me anyway.

I
was relieved when he said he didn't need me though. It felt weird to have that
reaction to something that might put another woman off, but I wasn't interested
in being needed by a single other person. The demands my parents put on me were
more than enough. 

If
I were ever going to be stuck with someone besides them long term, I hoped it
would be based purely on pleasure, not on the horrible feeling of inescapable
obligation. I had enough of that in my life. 

No,
I didn't want to be needed. Just wanted. And yet, I never believed that would
really happen for me so the fact that Jack was sitting in front of me telling
me he wanted me was completely unreal. 

And
so was the flatbread.

"I
didn't think it could be this good," I said, grabbing another piece with a
huge hunk of blue cheese on it. I wasn't sure if blue cheese was a strategic
date move since I was already planning on kissing him all over, but the starter
was too good to pass up so I figured I’d just have to drink enough wine to take
care of it.

"Try
the crab cakes," he said, sliding them in my direction.

I
picked up my fork and sank the edge into the crab cake closest to me. "How
do they compare to the ones you're used to eating?"

"They're
different," he said, "But still tasty."

The
sweet crab meat melted on my tongue, the seasoning making my mouth smile from
the inside out. "Agreed."

"I
wonder why no one eats crab cake sandwiches," he said. "I'm sure
they're better for you than burgers."

"I
think they do, but it's called the Filet o' Fish."

He
shook his head. "Yeah, but I bet the Filet o' Crab would be even more
delicious."

"You'd
have to include the sweet chili sauce."

"Of
course," he said, topping up my wine. 

"So
what is it that you want, Jack?" I asked, deciding to put the pressure on him
for a change. “More specifically.”

"In
a woman?"

"Yeah."

"I
want a woman who makes me laugh and has a gorgeous smile."

I
waited for him to go on, but he didn't. "Is that all?"

"Pretty
much," he said. "Everything else fades away."

"Not
everything."

"Maybe,
but I figured you'd like that answer better than if I said I wanted a woman
with a great rack and a healthy sexual appetite."

"Is
that the real answer then?"

"They
both are."

"So
intelligence doesn't rank with you or a nice rack makes up for it?"

He
laughed. "I used to think it could, but that's just a lie young men tell
themselves when they aren't ready for something serious."

"I
see."

"Of
course intelligence is important to me. And so is creativity because I like
being with someone who sees things differently than I do."

I
ran my tongue over my teeth. 

"It
keeps things interesting."

"That
makes sense."

"So
I didn't mean to leave it off the list. I just figured that wanting to be with
a woman who was funny covered both bases."

"Fair
enough."

"And
to answer the question you didn't ask-"

I
cocked my head at him. 

"The
answer is yes."

"Yes
what?"

"Yes,
I'm ready for something serious."

I
pursed my lips. 

"I'm
ready to stop postponing my future and start spoiling somebody besides myself."

"Preferably
a funny woman with a nice smile and a great rack?"

"That's
right."

I
leaned back in my chair and looked at him. His blue eyes looked darker in the
dim room than they normally did, but something about getting lost in them made
me feel like things made sense. Like I was safe. And it was a feeling I knew I
could get used to if given the chance. 

But
how could a man as accomplished as Jack Quinn have such simple desires? How
could a man with everything truly crave a woman with nothing?

Yet
I wasn't nothing. Not to him anyway. In fact, even if he hadn't just described me
down to a T, I would know I wasn't nothing just by the way he looked at
me. 

And
in that moment, not feeling like nothing was everything.

I
was falling for her. With every flick of her hair, every eye roll, and every
lick of her lips, I was being further drawn under her spell. 

Thank
god I'd dated gorgeous women before or I might have been tongue tied around her,
especially because she wasn't just attractive. She was great company, too. Though
I wished she would volunteer information about herself more readily.

Then
again, all women were hard work in their own way. So what if she was a little
guarded. I didn’t care. All that mattered was the fact that being the guy making
her smile made me feel better than anything I'd tried recently… and that included
Jin's moonshine recipe. 

So
there was no doubt in my mind that I was right where I wanted to be. Being a
single bachelor seemed like such a chore compared to being here with the only
woman I wanted to see and knowing we were going to leave together. 

It
wasn’t long before the waitress arrived with our main dishes. My steak was as
big as my head and Audrey's duck was arranged artfully in a way I was sure she
would appreciate. 

"So
how did you get into graphic design?" I asked when the waitress left. I
was eager to hear her talk more about herself, the sound of her voice being one
of the things I’d missed most when we were apart. 

"I
was always into drawing," she said. "For as long as I can remember I
was constantly doodling. And my parents were really encouraging. They would put
all my pictures on the fridge and the walls." She pushed some blond hair
out of her eyes. "I think it was the permanence of art that I liked."

I
nodded and reached for the pepper. 

"But
I love that while it's permanent, our perception of it changes as we
change." She picked up her silverware. "It's like that whole thing
about how you can't step in the same river twice, ya know? I’m not sure you can
look at the same painting twice either."

"That
makes sense."

"And
I know it for sure because sometimes I'll make something I really love and then
the next day I'll think it's absolute garbage." 

I
laughed. "I completely understand. I felt like that constantly when I was
writing my book."

"Oh
right."

"So
you've always loved it?"

She
nodded and sank her knife into her duck breast. "Unfortunately, it used to
have a terrible impact on my grades. I was always drawing when I should've been
paying attention to my teachers."

I
laughed. "At least you had an excuse."

"But
I can still remember where I was the first day I learned there was such a thing
as art school, that there was a place where other people like me went so they
could do art classes all day."

"That
must've been exciting."

"It
was. Of course, then I realized there was no money to be made doing that- or at
least there wouldn’t be until I struggled for several years and even then there
would be no guarantees. So I switched to graphic design because I figured I
could earn a better living."

"And
no regrets?"

She
shook her head. "Not really. I mean, the reason I like art is because it
can change the way people feel, like music can. And the art I do still does
that.” She dragged a piece of duck through some jus. “None of my stuff will
ever be in a museum or anything but the things I design for people play a big
part in their everyday life."

"Of
course."

"That's
how I justify it anyway. Sorry. Am I boring you?"

"Not
at all."

"And
you don't think I'm a terrible sellout for going down the graphic design road
so I could chase the almighty dollar?"

"Absolutely
not," I said. "Not if it was the right choice for you."

She
shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes I get the impression that people think
it's a lesser art form or that I'm a lesser artist for being influenced by
capitalism."

"That's
ridiculous," I said.

"I
agree. I mean, there's more to life than sketching naked people and stranger’s
hands. A girl's gotta eat, ya know?"

"Of
course," I said. "Personally, I don’t think there's anything wrong
with wanting to earn a good living.”

“Clearly,”
she said, taking a bite.

“And
in my experience, the people who think it’s wrong to pursue financial success are
unlikely to ever have it."

She
nodded as she chewed. 

"My
Dad was never a wealthy man, for example," I said, cutting my perfectly
cooked steak. "He thought wanting more money was a greedy way to be, that
all it does is corrupt people. And it’s impossible to believe that and attract
it into your life."

"Is
that why you wanted to be a doctor?"

"For
the money?"

She
flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "You wouldn’t be the first."

"The
money wasn't a turn off, but no, that’s not how I initially got interested in
medicine."

"I'm
listening."

"When
I was in junior high, my Mom got Breast Cancer."

Audrey's
face dropped. "That's awful," she said, setting down her fork.

"It
was for her, yeah, but I was fascinated by the whole thing because of the way she
shielded me at the time."

"I
don't understand."

"Well,
instead of telling me what the risks were, she focused on all the things the
doctors were doing to make her better."

“I
see.”

"She
painted them as heroes."

"And
she's okay now?"

I
nodded. "Fortunately, she's been in remission ever since."

Her
eyes smiled. "That's wonderful, Jack."

"She's
a real fighter my Mom, a formidable woman. You'd like her."

"I'm
sure I would," she said. "But you aren't a cancer specialist, right? So
what made you go a different route?"

"I
guess after the experience with my Mom, I wanted to help people feel better,
but I wanted to go into a line of medicine where I wouldn't have to make them sick
first in order to do that."

She
squinted at me. 

"If
that makes sense."

"It
does."

"Though
hopefully chemo will be a thing of the past soon enough."

"Well,
for what it’s worth, from the little I've seen of your bedside manner, I think
you did the right thing becoming a doctor. I mean, you've obviously managed to help
a lot of people already."

"Yes,"
I said. "I've been very fortunate."

"Do
you think you'll ever practice again?"

"I
do,” I said. “Deep down I know I'll get back to it eventually because I loved
it for so many reasons. I just don't know when."

"Perhaps
when the time is right?"

"Yeah,"
I said, wondering how Audrey would feel about me starting a practice in
Seattle. Or if she wanted to live somewhere else. I guess as long as we stuck
to the West Coast, I could be pretty flexible about moving back stateside. It
wasn't so bad here. And if she was here, there was nowhere I would rather be.

But
none of that mattered now. Everything would work out in time. 

Just
as long as she was falling for me as hard as I was falling for her.