Waking Up (49 page)

Folding the napkins how Grams taught me, I lay them out on the table and position the flower arrangement.  The candles Mickayla showed me where to find compliment the flowers and I have my iPod set up on Mickayla’s speaker jack on the hutch.  This room is perfect.  All it needs is Adriana, me and food.

  Heading back to the kitchen, I start on the food.  I hope she likes Mediterranean inspired foods because I want to give her a bit of me tonight.  Tell her about me, give her some of what I grew up eating, and let her see me.  So much of my life I’ve craved a real connection to someone, but I’ve held people at arm’s length, afraid of being abandoned again.  I don’t want to do that with her.  I want to let her in even if it means she’ll see all the scars of my past, every demon still chasing me.

I lose myself in the food the way I always do.  It calms me.  I get everything to where it only has to go in the oven.  But, I still have two hours before she’ll be here.  

It feels like an eternity.

Chapter Fifty Three

Adriana

Alahna drops me off in my driveway.  Butterflies fill my stomach.  Although we talked about Tucker the whole way home and why she thinks he’s good for me, I still think I need to ask him to leave.  I can’t take another heartbreak and it’s going to be hard enough asking him to leave now.  She’ll be disappointed in me, but at least I’ll still be functional.  If he stays around, I may not be when it comes time for him to go.  This is the best choice.

Why does it hurt so much?

Bracing my heart for the pain that’s inevitable, I climb the steps to my home.  Opening my front door, I’m welcomed by a wonderful aroma.  I don’t know what it is, but my stomach growls and my mouth waters.

Did Tucker cook?  For me?

Walking through the mud room and living room, I enter the kitchen and see him walking toward me.

Holy shit.  My heart stops and I worry I’ll pass out.  He’s pulling my apron over his head and tonight he’s not wearing a t-shirt.  No, he’s wearing a baby blue, short sleeve button down with white linen pants and he’s bare foot.  Ahhh.  How did he know?

I can’t stop eye fucking him.  I should, but I can’t.  He’s absolutely delectable and he’s barefoot, cooking me dinner.  It’s my fantasy come true.  His blue shirt makes his eyes shine brighter.  Everything about him seems enhanced.  I watch as he licks his bottom lip and all I can think is how much I want to bite it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He comes at me in long, purposeful strides.  My heart beat matches his strides and I feel myself puddle in my panties.  Dammit, I hate that he affects me so easily.

He stops just inside my personal space.  “Dinner in thirty minutes, sweetness.”  And he walks off to the stove, completely unaffected.  
Bastard.
 

I slink up to my room and flop onto my bed, my body jelly.  What the hell just happened?  How does he disarm me so completely without even trying?  Pulling myself together, I decide if he looks that “I want to eat him for dessert” hot then I need to get out of my work clothes and put something sexier on.

Throwing my hair in a bun on top of my head, I quickly shower and reapply my makeup.  With only a half hour to work with, it doesn’t give me enough time to get fancy with my hair so I throw it into a braid that falls to one side.  Rifling through my closet, I stop when I see a dress I’ve never worn, but always wanted to.  Pulling it from the hanger, I go to my dresser for the appropriate undergarments.  These are the days I love shopping at Victoria’s Secret.  My strapless black lace bra and matching panties are perfect under the dress.  They don’t have any crazy prints, but that’s okay.  I want sexy tonight.  Everything about Tucker is screaming sexy.  Back in my closet, I grab black, strappy stiletto sandals to top off the outfit.

Sliding the dress over my head, I shiver at the feeling of the satin on my sensitive skin.  Seeing Tucker dressed the way he was— cooking for me— has me turned on.  I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I fail miserably.

A soft knock sounds at my door.  “Dinner is ready, Adriana.”

“One minute.”  I look myself over in the mirror.  
Why have I never worn this dress before?  Eat your heart out, Tucker Stavros.
  The red, strapless dress hugs to my curves. The black belt under my breasts, makes them stand out.  I’m entranced by the gold and black patterns worked into the dress.  But something is missing.  Quickly rifling in my jewelry box, I find what I’m looking for.  I put my onyx drop earrings in and take a last gander at myself.  Not too bad for a half hour to prepare for dinner with walking sex.  I turn off my light and try to calm the nervousness that’s shaking my entire body as I walk down the stairs. 

He’s waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.  My face flames as his eyes take me in, working my body from head to toe.  His eyes roam every inch of me.  I’ve never had a man gaze at me with such hunger and need so apparent on his face.  Embarrassment fills me at the loud gulping sound echoing through the air from my throat.

Damn him.  I’m mad at him.  I’m not supposed to be melting into a puddle at his feet.

Clearing my throat, I straighten my back and lift my head so I’m holding his gaze.  The smirk on his face reminds me why I’m irritated.  He thinks he has me all figured out.  He so doesn’t and I intend to show him that.

Before I can do or say anything, he holds his arm out like a proper gentleman would.  “May I?”  That’s all he says.  And he has the sweetest smile on his face.  I can’t speak, so I place my hand on his arm and feel that instant spark I feel whenever we touch.  
Will it always be this way with him?
  No, no because he needs to go home.  I need to send him home.  My heart needs him to go before it’s too late and I can’t let go. 

Walking into the dining room, I stop dead.  
Oh. My. God.  What has he done?
  It’s beautiful.  Candles are lit around a stunning display of the brightest pink lilies I’ve ever seen interspersed with roses.  I can’t tell they’re color under the candlelight, but they appear to be shimmering.  He has the table meticulously set, everything in its place to compliment the piece next to it. 

I can’t move, afraid I might miss a detail, afraid my heart will allow him further entrance if I keep looking.  He doesn’t try to move me any closer to the table, just stands there in silence as I take in the surroundings.  It’s not only the extravagance of the table setting, but the music playing in the background, the smells wafting through the air, that are affecting me.  Tucker means for this to be a romantic evening and as much as I’m trying to harden my heart to him, it isn’t working.

“This is beautiful, Tucker.  H-how did you?”

“Shhh.  A good magician never reveals his secrets,” he says as he shows me to my seat, a sexy smirk turning up his lips.  He pulls my chair out, placing my napkin in my lap as I sit, and pushes my chair back in.  I admit, I’m in full swoon mode.  Then, I look down and see he’s still bare foot and gasp.  I don’t know why this has such an effect on me because I don’t even like feet.  I detest them actually, but something about a man cooking for me all dressed up and bare foot turns me on.  Boy, oh boy, do I need to keep my thighs clenched right now.  He’s hitting on every part of my deepest fantasy and it’s taking everything in me not to throw everything off the table and ask him to take me right here.  Forget being angry at him.  Forget the awful things he said to me and the tattoo and everything I talked to Alahna about.  If he doesn’t stop all this sweetness, I’m going to cave.
Again.
 

He fills my bowl with salad and I take a second to enjoy the aroma of the dressing.  I can tell it’s homemade and my heart clenches a little at the thought that he went that extra step for me.  He places a small roll on my plate and the tomatoes and black olives covering it grab my attention.  What man would really go to this much trouble to impress a woman?  Especially a man like Tucker?  He has no reason and can have any woman.  Why is he doing this?  He keeps moving through my mental insecurities, spooning food onto my plate.

“Would you like some wine or does the water suffice for now?”

It takes me a second to process his words.  I’m still trying to figure out why he’s doing this.  Yes, we had sex— a few times— and it was beyond incredible, but what he’s doing now.  This… this isn’t something you do for sex.

“Uh– wine, yes please.”  I can’t keep my eyes off him as he grabs the wine bottle and walks back around to me.  He seems so at ease as he pours my glass.  Winking at me, he walks to his seat and sits down.  In the time, I was lost in my head I didn’t realize he had served his own food, too.  Now he’s watching me again, waiting for a cue from me that we can begin.  Picking up my fork, I give him the best smile I can muster.  It’s weak, but it’s all I have.

I take my first bite of salad and taste sensations start popping off all over inside my mouth.  Oh my God.  This dressing he made is outstanding.  I can’t wait to try everything else.  A small moan of approval slips past my lips.  Normally I’d be embarrassed, but the food is so good, I don’t care.  His smile stops my moan and my heart.  He truly is too good looking to be true.  I wish I knew why he wants to be here with me.

“Thank you for dinner, Tucker.”

“Anything for you, Adriana.”  His words seem so sincere, but if all I can think is if he means that, then now is the time to ask him what I need to ask him.  Like Alahna said, I need to put my big girl panties on and get this over with.

Why is it so hard to force the words out?

My legs are trembling, my nerves shot, and I feel myself breaking out in a sweat.  I try to tell myself if he wanted me to know he would have told me himself, but he must know there’s a chance I know now.  He must know I may have seen it.  Over and over in my head, I tell myself to do it, ask him, but then I take another bite of food.  I chicken out several times before I find the nerve.

“Uh, Tucker, can I ask you something?”

He puts his fork down, places his chin on his hands, and catches my eyes giving me his full attention.  It’s now or never.  I mimic his movements from a few moments before.  I don’t know why. Even the playing field maybe, or maybe it’s my nerves getting the best of me.

“What do the numbers stand for on your back?” I blurt out.  Yep, just like a band-aid, rip that shit off.

He stiffens, his jaw tightens, and I swear I hear his teeth grind.  Sadness washes over his face and I wish I could take it back, turn back time for thirty seconds and not ask that question, but it’s too late.  Resignation settles in, I can see when it does and he goes blank.  “It’s the day my mom died.”

“Oh, no.  Tucker, I’m so.”

“Adriana, please don’t,” he begs.  “Don’t tell me you’re sorry.  I lost her so many years ago.  Yes, I still miss her every day, and, yes, there is still a hole in my heart that will never be filled, but the eight years I had with her, even the years she was sick, are filled with happy memories.    There is nothing to be sorry for.  Do you know why I got you lilies tonight?”

I shake my head no because I don’t trust myself to speak.

“Her name was Lily.  They’re my favorite flower.  Well, those and roses because my Grams name is Rose.  They’re the two most beautiful women I ever knew before meeting you.  The lilies are pink because that was my mom’s favorite color and the roses are lavender because that’s Grams favorite color.  I wanted to share part of me with you tonight.  After you left here this morning, I realized I keep asking you to let me in, but I have to be willing to do the same.  I’ve gotten so used to never letting anyone into my life, not truly letting them in, only letting them half know me, that I give bits and pieces here and there.  Enough to pacify people.  I don’t want to do that with you.  I want you to know who I am, sweetness.  The real me that I keep hidden from the world.”

I watch as he looks down at his plate and takes a few deep breaths.  The anticipation of what he’ll say has me moving to the edge of my seat.  Gives that saying new meaning.  

“Being here with you this past week has been a roller-coaster for me.  I have felt more…” the struggle in him to find the words is written all over his face and I want to go to him, but I can’t.  Fear of what he’s going to say has me paralyzed.  Fear that he may win me over completely won’t let me move.  “I don’t know how to say this to you.  I’ve never been good at pretty words.  That’s what I have Eddie for,” he huffs out a short, nervous laugh.  I want to scream at him to get on with it.  “In one week, I have felt more for you than any woman who has walked into my life before.”

“But, you were with Victoria for two years,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.  His words can’t be true.

“Yes, I was, but do you know in that time I never told her lilies are my favorite flower?  Or that my mother’s favorite color is pink?  I never told her my father took me from our home the day of my mother’s funeral.  I’m not even sure she knows my father is still alive.  Don’t you see, Adriana?  I never really shared my life with her at all.  In those two years, I can count on one, maybe two, hands how many times I told her I loved her and looking back I feel like it was forced.  I never felt it.  We were more roommates who had sex.  I don’t say that to be crass.  I say that to be honest.  I want to be honest with you.  Always.”

I hate thinking of him being with Victoria, of them having sex, but I’m not stupid.  I know there’s no way they were together that long and didn’t sleep together.  It still hurts, though.  It shouldn’t.  He’s not mine to hurt over.  
You want him to be.
 

Stupid conscious.  Why can’t you shut up?

“Thank you,” I say feebly.

Dinner is wonderful.  I’m amazed at how good of a cook Tucker is.  He lights up telling me there is still dessert to come.  This carefree, happy Tucker I’ve decided is my favorite.  He chats through the meal telling me small details about him, some happy, some not so much, but all small pieces of the puzzle that make him who he is.