Beautiful Surrender (Forever 3)

“Uh, what are you doing?”

He managed to slip off one when I pulled my legs away.

“I sincerely hope that you’re not expecting us to have sex on your couch. I know you’re all for ‘finishing what we started’ but roses and a cute card aren’t going to cut it.”

His expression was unreadable. “Give me your feet. I want to show you something.”

“What for?”

“Trust me.”

Sensing he didn’t intend for us to have sex, I gingerly scooched my legs back and offered him the foot with the remaining shoe. He gently removed it and inserted my feet in his loafers.

I felt the lingering warmth of his feet on my own. I looked down and was fascinated by the maleness of the shoe. The texture of the leather was smooth and glossy but the slight crease near the toes and various small nicks gave it a rough, unrefined edge. The shape narrowing sharply at the toes seemed to point forward like a general points his hand to rally an army’s charge. I imagined Vincent wearing these in a variety of scenarios: walking to high-powered meetings, standing in front of a podium giving a company-wide speech, bending down to pick up a quarter. My drab flats looked feminine and dainty in comparison.

I wiggled my toes inside, probing the empty space between the inner lining and my feet. Although comfortable, the loafers were much too big for me. They might as well have been clown shoes.

“Now close your eyes for a moment.”

I did as he asked, expecting further instructions. After an awkward minute of not receiving any, I opened my eyes.

Vincent looked at me expectantly. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What do you feel?”

I wiggled my toes again. “Umm . . . a soft insole? I don’t know. What am I supposed to feel?”

“You’re supposed to feel the muscles in your legs tensing, blood coursing between them, your c**k getting hard like steel.”

“Um, what?”

“You experience an intense attraction to Kristen. You were thinking about product strategy before but now your thoughts are turning dirty. You can’t think straight. All you can think about is when you’re going to see Kristen again. And if anyone hurts her, there will be hell to pay. Then you realize she’s what you want. All you’ve ever wanted.” He put his hand on my leg, the warmth seeping through the denim to my skin. “When you put yourself in my shoes. That’s what you feel.”

“Oh.”

“Now imagine feeling that all the time. During meetings; on the plane; while you’re eating . . . You see now how you’re a part of my life?”

I nodded. “You make a good point.”

“Do you still want to see me?”

Vincent’s charm was starting to take its effect on me but I still had reservations. Maybe I’d built up resistance to him from all our time together. “I don’t know. Yes and no.”

“What are the reasons for ‘yes’?”

I put my finger on my chin and thought about it. “You make a mean omelette.”

“That’s it?”

“Umm . . . Shrimp pasta as well. Also, you’ve shown you really care about me. Taking me on trips, carving time out of your busy schedule to be with me, being concerned about my safety.”

“And the orgasms?”

“They’re a nice perk but I think I could go without them and be okay.”

“Then I have room for improvement. Okay, what are the reasons for ‘no’?”

“I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“You’ve trusted me in the past.”

“That’s true.”

“The bar in Cape Town, surfing, being discreet about our dating, blindfolds, cybersex, sex on my plane . . . am I missing anything?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“And I messed up by getting that security team. And for not telling you about Giselle’s ex-boyfriend, which you must admit is not a complete breach in trust. More like a half-breach.”

I mused about it. “All right, I’ll give you that.”

“Also the Ariel text message was a misunderstanding so that doesn’t count.”

“It pissed me off so I’d say that’s a half-breach.”

“Fine. Even so, it’s six in support of trusting me versus two in support of distrusting me. I’d say the odds are in my favor.”

“In terms of numbers, maybe. But numbers are soft when there’s feelings involved.”

“Do you still have feelings for me?”

“Yes. I do. But I still think we should take a break.”

He tried inserting his feet into my flats but only managed to squeeze a few toes inside.

“That’s not what your shoes are telling me.”

“Oh?” I became curious. “What are they saying?”

“They’re saying life is crazy right now. I don’t know what to do. I want to figure things out on my own because I’m a strong, independent woman. I want to prove it to Vincent and to myself. But I do know that Vincent really cares about me. He’s always had the best intentions for me. And I really care about him. As much as I try to say otherwise, I really don’t want to be apart from him.”

I laughed despite myself, tears welling up in my eyes. He was so sweet. “My shoes talk too much.”

He smiled and cleared his throat, but I could tell he was affected too, his eyes betraying him with a glisten. “Come on Kristen, give us a chance. We both have crazy lives but it doesn’t mean we should fix things by ourselves. It might be easier. But if we make it through this together, we’ll be stronger. If we make it through this alone, we’ll just be better at being alone.” He touched my cheek tenderly. “Let’s work this out together.”

He gently brought my head into his chest. I grumbled but didn’t resist because it felt too good, too comforting. The distress I felt over our issues seemed to magically disappear when he held me. I realized how much I loved his touch and being with him despite our problems. It was worth taking a chance. Vincent was worth it. Even if it meant risking getting hurt.

“Fine,” I muttered. “We’ll do this together.”

He exhaled in relief and kissed my head. “Can I call you Kitten again?” he asked, nuzzling his cheek in my hair.

I tried to think of a response that didn’t make it seem like I totally forgave him. “As long as you let me call you Vinnie the Pooh.”