Tell Me a Desire (The Story Series Book 2) (3 page)

“A cake pop? Sure.”

I reached over and grabbed one, then fed it to him. He ate it all in one bite and swallowed, smiling the whole time. I licked a blob of frosting off my finger and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Seriously, I knocked off work early. I was worried because you seemed a little upset earlier. I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t want you to think I was uninterested in your business. You know I’m supportive of the bookstore. I love the bookstore.”

I sighed and swooned a little, resting my champagne-buzzed head on his chest. That’s when I felt awful I’d been so nasty to him. I tilted my head to kiss him again with soft lips and allowed my hands to stroke the lapels of his jacket.

“You taste like cake,” I murmured.

“You taste like champagne.”

I laughed. “A perfect pairing.” I tilted my head up and frowned dramatically. “And this is a costume party. What are you supposed to be?”

He grinned, eyes teasing. “An alpha male hero in a Harlequin novel.”

How I loved him for speaking my language.

I
t was the next day
, and Caleb and I were in a wine boutique downtown. It was more like a luxury emporium for wine, where people could take classes and meet with winemakers to learn every excruciating detail about grapes. Caleb loved it because it stocked rare varietals from all over the world, and we’d gotten to know the owner over the past two years as regulars at tastings.

For my birthday, he’d ordered a case of my favorite organic champagne and insisted on searching for a sulfite-free Pinot selection to serve at the party. I trailed behind him with a small cart, walking dreamily to the beat of Charlie Parker playing in the background. Caleb had turned me into a jazz lover.

We’d had a lazy, easy morning, probably because neither one of us had brought up my previous day’s snit. He’d surprised me with a dozen red roses delivered to the condo, he’d made chocolate chip pancakes, and then he’d brought me to an Art Deco furniture auction.

“Babe, what do you think of this organic varietal?” He looked up, his eyes demanding an answer.

“Wonderful.” I barely glanced at the label. Two couples flowed into the store, talking in loud voices and drowning out the romantic jazz. Now I was antsy to get home. Home, as in, Caleb’s condo, because I wanted to decide where to put my new vanity.

Earlier that morning, Caleb had bought me an expensive, vintage French Art Deco vanity at the auction, so I’d have a place to put all my makeup at his condo. He’d even said it could go in his bedroom and we’d eventually redecorate around the one stunning piece.

When
I moved in, he’d reminded me. Not
if
, but
when
. He was certain he’d soon get his way, but I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I enjoyed having one foot in his sleek world and another in my shabby-chic one at my little bungalow.

“It’s not your only present, though. Wait until tonight,” he’d said. God, he could be so perfect. Why was I second-guessing his love for me?

I watched Caleb squint as he compared two bottles of wine. Even the smallest of choices always brought out the analytical side of him, and I thought it adorable. Amused at his happiness, I scanned the store and saw couples fighting in the chardonnay aisle, their mouths turned down, eyes annoyed, teeth bared in open snarls.

Yes, I was tremendously lucky.

“Oh, wait, this is even better.” Caleb’s voice quickened with excitement as he held up a seventy-five-dollar bottle of sulfite-free Chianti from Italy. He kissed me on the cheek. “I only want the best for my blue-haired birthday girl.”

He kissed me again, then allowed his mouth to hover near mine. With half-lidded eyes, I inhaled his warm, cinnamon-scented breath.

“Something about your blue hair turns me on. And the shirt makes you look like an extra in
Flashdance
.”

I grinned. My blue hue wouldn’t wash out for a few days, and today, I’d tamed it into a high ponytail. Combined with my tight, faded jeans and oversized, black, off-the-shoulder T-shirt, I channeled eighties retro style because I knew Caleb thought it was sexy.

As he was adding four bottles to the crate of champagne already in the cart, someone called his name. A female someone.

I spun toward the voice, and there was a willowy woman with long brown hair the color of maple syrup. She was pushing a stroller.

“Jackie,” Caleb said warmly, then took two steps and hugged her. “It’s great to see you. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Emma.”

Smiling, wishing I was something other than a girlfriend, I held out my hand and she shook it warmly. The woman was truly gorgeous, with her white, flowing tunic over lean khaki pants. Effortlessly pretty—somewhere in between put-together soccer mom and New Age hipster mom. She even had a well-folded stack of reusable shopping bags in a stroller pocket, whereas I’d forgotten mine because they were stuffed behind an old box of kitty litter in a closet at my house.

I shrugged my black T-shirt higher to cover my shoulder, then fiddled with my blue ponytail, feeling out of place.

“Hi.” My latent shyness surged to the surface.

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’ve actually heard about you, the mysterious bookstore owner who captured the heart of the most eligible bachelor in Florida.” She peered into our cart. “Ooo, someone’s throwing a party.”

“It’s Emma’s birthday. We’re having family over.”

Jackie mentioned something about hosting a dinner that evening and needing to pick up a bottle of dessert wine.

Caleb turned to me. “Jackie was a partner at the law firm we used, before we named an in-house counsel.”

“Yeah, until I had this little one.” She pushed the stroller toward me. I peered down, and there in the seat was the most perfect, rose-cheeked baby I’d ever seen. Well, that was a possible exaggeration because I’d never really noticed babies until today. But I’d seen a few while Caleb and I had been out, and I’d tried not to stare.

I couldn’t ignore this little cherub, though, and I sighed. “So beautiful,” I breathed. “What’s her name?”

“Annie.”

“Annie’s being so good, sleeping through all this shopping.”

Jackie laughed, and maybe at the sound of her mother’s voice, Annie stirred and opened her eyes. And fixed them right on me.

I nearly burst into tears. “Ohhh.” The lump in the back of my throat made me gurgle unbecomingly, as if I’d suddenly developed a harsh case of tuberculosis. “She’s perfect.”

Right then, Annie began to wail. I reared back and chuckled. So did Jackie.

“See? Not perfect. Well, I need to run so I can buy wine and then feed her. It was nice meeting you, Emma. And, Caleb, don’t be a stranger. Let’s get coffee sometime. Emma, you should join us.”

He gave her a quick hug, and she navigated the stroller toward the checkout. I hadn’t moved and instead stared down at the case of champagne and four bottles of wine in our cart. If I wanted a baby, I’d have to stop drinking. Maybe tonight would be my final night of imbibing. I reasoned that if I wanted to get pregnant, I should be super-healthy for the next three-hundred sixty-five days.

What else would I have to change? Did I need folic acid? Where did one even get folic acid? I glanced around. Certainly not in a wine boutique. I’d ask Caleb if we could stop at Whole Foods on the way home.

“Well, I’m glad to see Jackie got what she wanted.” Caleb took the cart from me, edging aside my hands and pushing toward a wooden table with samples of Parmesan cheese.

“What do you mean?” I asked, hesitant.

“Back before I met you, I dated Jackie briefly. She wasn’t my type. We weren’t compatible. Great woman, though. But when we dated, all she could talk about was getting married and having a baby. I wasn’t ready to be a father. Not with Tara and not with her.”

Somehow I swallowed and stopped breathing at the same time. I paused to inspect a giant, three-hundred-dollar wedge of Parmesan, wishing a sinkhole would form and devour me and everything else in a ten-mile radius. If he didn’t want a child with his wife, or with a gorgeous lawyer who appeared as though she scheduled her days down to the minute, why would he want a child with
me
?

I picked up a cheese crumble affixed to a toothpick, but my stomach was suddenly too queasy to accept food. I held it out for Caleb.

Ignoring the cheese, he stepped closer and shrugged. “You know what they say. When the time’s right, the time’s right.”

I allowed myself to inhale and dropped the cheese and the toothpick into a wastebasket. “Huh?”

He smiled. “I mean, when you’re with someone you’re compatible with, the idea of having children is more palatable.”

“What are you trying to say?”
Palatable
wasn’t exactly the word I wanted to hear, but it did leave the door open to the possibility of a family. Didn’t it?

He tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “Emma, is this really the time or place to have this conversation? Here? While we’re buying a case of champagne?”

“Probably not.” While I studied him with big, crazed eyes, my heart did flip-flops. If you’d told me five years ago I’d
want
to talk about family planning in a wine shop with my boyfriend, I’d have rolled my eyes so hard I would have ripped an orbital muscle.

Now? I felt like my heart was about to leap out of my chest.

“Have you ever thought about… Never mind.” I shook my head dismissively.

Caleb stared into my eyes with an intensity I didn’t recognize. “You don’t need to say it. I have, Emma.”

Now smiling, I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth. I cupped his face in my hands and slipped my tongue between his lips. He chuckled.

“Baby doll…” he murmured.

That’s when it hit me: he had another birthday gift for me.

Maybe it was a question.

H
ours later
, after I was well-plied with organic champagne and the most delicious vegan-Caribbean fusion food I’d never heard of, I cornered my best friend Sarah in the kitchen.

“Dude,” I hissed. “I need to tell you something.”

She giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re tipsy.”

“Shut up.” I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the walk-in pantry, so Jean, the Haitian-vegan chef from Miami, couldn’t hear us as he prepared my birthday dessert. I clicked on the light and wobbled as I leaned against the closed door.

“Sarah. I think I might want a baby. I mean, not right this second, but sometime soon.”

“Okay.” She shrugged, then flipped her long, chestnut hair in back of her shoulders. “Is this supposed to shock me?”

“Yes. Jesus.” I rolled my eyes. “My doctor told me I don’t have a lot of
time
. Can you believe that shit?”

“Well, you are thirty-five.”

I snarled.

“It doesn’t surprise me at all. Laura and I have been taking bets on when you and Caleb would procreate. She says her brother hasn’t been this in love with anyone ever.”

“Okay,” I slurred. “Here’s the question. Why hasn’t he asked me to marry him?”

“Christ, Em, I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him?”

I screwed up my face. Was it so easy? Yeah, it probably was. Here I was, spilling my soul to Sarah before talking to Caleb. As usual.

“Damn you for being practical. I was waiting until tonight. He said he had another present for me and I thought it was, you know, maybe…”

Sarah fixed her huge dark eyes on me and didn’t blink. “A ring?”

“Yeah.”

She yawned. “Could be. I don’t know. Laura hasn’t mentioned anything, but maybe Caleb hasn’t told her. You know how she can’t keep a secret. But I do know you’re too much in your head. I can feel it. I can see it. Right there—” she tapped my forehead “—the little hamsters working overtime. Stop. Just tell him what you’re thinking.” Sarah took two long sips of wine. “Don’t tell me.”

“Okay. Okay. I can do this. I like to talk it out first with you.”

“You know, if you do have a child with him, you’re going to have to get a lot better at communicating.”

I scowled at her. “Caleb and I communicate fine.”

She snorted. “Yeah, in bed.”

“What do you mean?”

“You two have a very physical kind of love. I mean, you’ve come a long way, opening up, since meeting him. But you need to dig deeper.”

I squinted one eye at her. “Who the hell are you, Dr. Phil?”

“My minor in psychology’s always come in handy with you. Em, you need to connect with him on some level other than sexual. Whenever you talk about him, it’s always about the physical.”

“We bond over literature, too.” Even in my tipsy state, I knew I sounded defensive.

“And that’s awesome. But if you’re going to be married, have a baby, you need to connect on an even deeper level. What are you going to tap into when you are sleep-deprived and the baby’s colicky and you two haven’t fucked or read in weeks?”

“Hmm.” I didn’t know what to say. All my adult life, ever since I left college, I’d related to men on a physical level. Between flirtation, coquettish banter, and dating, men had been something of a hobby for me. Caleb was different, of course, because he was brilliant. And kind. I was no longer attracted to any other man.

But now that Sarah mentioned it, had I truly connected with Caleb? And I hadn’t considered what life would be like with a baby
and
him.

Did other women think about these things? I was thirty-five. Why was I such a late bloomer? I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the confusion. Too many questions for one night.

“Let’s rejoin everyone. But hey, don’t say anything to Laura, okay?” I turned to open the door.

“Fine. But I’m sure she can already guess. And, anyway, she’s feeling the same way.”

I shut the door again and spun to face Sarah. “What? Laura wants a baby?”

“Well, sort of, yeah. I’d carry the baby because of her panic disorder. But she wants a family. I do, too. And now that same-sex marriage is legal in Florida, we’ve been thinking about the future.”

“Maybe you and I will have babies at the same time.” I did a little dance, shaking my hips.

Sarah tilted her head and exploded in laughter. “You’re a goof.”

“I know. But did you ever think you’d see me so happy?”

“No. I never thought you’d open up to any man the way you have Caleb. You need to take the next emotional steps, though.”

“I love him so much,” I whispered and slumped against the door, ready to cry. It was as if my hormones had been upended in one twenty-four-hour stretch, and being half-drunk wasn’t helping my already wobbly emotional state. I needed to get a grip and fast, so I took a huge breath. “Okay. Let’s return to the party.”

Sarah and I lurched out of the pantry, and I barreled into the broad chest of Caleb’s brother, Colin.

“Jesus,” I responded semi-crossly. He laughed.

“Watch out, Emma. You’re small but sturdy. You could’ve taken me out.”

I made a mock-hissing noise, then smiled as I slipped past, his cologne lingering on my hair. Normally I didn’t keep tabs on what kind of
eau de toilette
a man wore, but I’d bought Armani Mania for Colin at Christmas, and from the smell of things, he’d dipped himself in the Mandarin-cedar scent.