“Nice to meet you, Candace,” he says softly, his eyes warm on my hot cheeks.
“I’m not sure if it’s nice to meet you or not yet, Rick.”
His lips curve and I find myself thinking about that kiss, about his mouth on my mouth. I tug at my hand and reluctantly, it seems, he releases me, or perhaps it’s me who didn’t really want him to actually let go. Until now, until this night and my encounter with Rick Savage, I didn’t realize how much I just need to be touched. Afraid I’m transparently desperate, I turn away from him, watching as rain transforms to hail plunking on the window. “What brings you here so late and in a storm?” he asks.
I shift to face him again, happy to be back on safe territory. “School and work.”
“What are you studying and/or working on?”
“Architecture. I’m interning right now under a rather famous architect. It’s a bit intimidating, but exciting.”
“Interesting choice of career. What do you want to build?”
“Everything. I have so many dreams. The tallest building in the world that reaches well into the clouds. The most unique building in the world. The most secure building in the world. The most impressive homes on planet Earth.”
“That’s what I call passion. Are you following in someone’s footsteps?”
“No. I think it started with a fascination with the pyramids and morphed into architecture. What about you? Why are you here late at night?”
“Med school. I’m a surgical resident at Fort Sam where my father’s an instructor.”
“Impressive. It is, after all, considered the most important military medical training facility in the world. My father’s at Fort Sam, too, but he’s not part of the medical division. He’s the commander for the North. Are you military?”
“I am, in fact, military.”
“Our fathers might know each other.”
He gives a nod. “I’m certain they must.”
“I thought soldiers were pack animals and yet you’re here, alone. It’s dangerous out alone, you know,” I tease.
He doesn’t laugh. He cuts his stare and grabs the steering wheel, his powerful forearm flexing with the tightness of his grip. “Sometimes alone isn’t the best place to be.” He looks at me, his eyes swimming with something I can only call dark and damaged before he asks, “Now is it?”
I don’t know if he intends for me to actually answer that question, but I do. “No,” I say. “No, it’s not.” And then before I can stop myself, I add, “Especially not tonight.” A confession, perhaps inspired by the hint of understanding between us that I believe he’s trying to confirm.
“Why not tonight?” he asks.
“You don’t know me. You don’t need to pretend to care.”
“I don’t pretend. Ever. And as for barely knowing each other, we are the freest we will ever be together. You don’t have to choose to see me again. You don’t have to think about the mistakes we’ve made together. You don’t have to do anything, including answering my question.” And yet he asks again, “Why not tonight?” he repeats.
I exhale a shaky breath, my fingers twisting in my lap, my gaze shifting forward to the window drizzled with rain. The storm outside has calmed, but the one inside me has not. “My mom died last month. My dad is deploying to Iraq next week.” I glance over at Rick. “If that’s not enough, I live in a house I inherited from my dead grandmother who I loved very much.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Candace?”
“No. I mean, I did, but it wasn’t serious. He was military and a little too busy trying to impress my father for me to feel like anything was about me. What about you?”
“No one.”
No one.
There is something hollow in the way he says this that only drives me to want to know more. Turning his prior question, back on him, I ask, “Why are you here alone, Rick Savage?”
He fixes me in a deep blue stare, and I swear I’m drifting in a sea of this man’s making. “To meet you. I just didn’t know it yet.”
The rain explodes around us again, an eternal roughening of the windows that only Texas does with such force. Thunder erupts with it, lightning in the distance, and I don’t know who moves first. Him or me. Suddenly though we’re in the middle of the seat and his fingers are tangling all rough and wonderfully in my hair, his mouth lowering to mine. “I’m going to kiss you now, unless you object,” he says.
“Kiss me already, Savage.”
“Rick. Call me Rick.” And then his lips collide with my lips, his tongue a deep stroke of pure heat that has me moaning with the rush of sensation that assaults my body in the best of ways.
My arms slide around his muscular back, body pressing against his body, the hard lines of this incredible man absorbing more than the softer part of me. That need to be touched explodes inside me, demanding satisfaction. He pulls back and stares down at me. “Do you want to get out of here? Together?”