Jake (California Dreamy) - By Rian Kelley Page 0,26
the menu. Other than ordering a glass of sangria, she had said little since delivering her expectations in the truck.
He winced when he thought about the pain sexual frustration was causing her. He felt it himself. When it was at its most acute, he stepped into the shower and took care of himself as efficiently as possible but he knew that paled considerably in comparison to the release he would find in Ivy’s arms. Just thinking about it made his balls ache.
“I’m having the sea bass,” he announced. He wasn’t able to focus on the menu and gave up trying. He also wanted to test her level of tolerance for him at this point.
She lowered the menu and spared him a glance. It held no animosity but the look she gave him wasn’t encouraging, either.
“I can never pass it up,” he told her and smiled, hoping to soften her mood a little. “How about you?”
“I like to try new things,” she told him and let her glance flicker over him. Not quite condescending, but he was definitely lacking in adventure if her expression was anything to go by. “I’m thinking the New York strip steak and king crab legs.”
“Great choice.”
“We should start with an appetizer,” she suggested. “Maybe the lobster strudel?”
“I like shellfish,” he agreed.
“And then a salad. Spinach. I’ll take my dressing on the side. What about you?”
He wasn’t sure, but it was entirely possible she was trying to stretch the evening out as long as possible. He said as much and watched the gleam in her eyes thicken to challenge. And damn if it didn’t get his blood pumping.
“It’s totally possible to close this place down,” she said.
Her confidence was delightful; her desire for him heady and tampered with his resolve. He laughed, which only encouraged her.
“And the average date being three hours means that some are shorter.”
“And some longer.”
“Yes, like the fourth or fifth date. That boat cruise is five hours easy.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman work so hard to get me into bed,” he said.
“That’s because until now you were thinking with your dick.”
“You’re right. And it has a one word vocabulary: ‘Now.’”
“And you’re trying to think about later.” She nodded. “Thank you. Really. I’m glad you know I’m worth it. But I’ll be as worth it tomorrow as I am today.”
“And next week, too,” he agreed.
“And maybe even next year.”
“That’s just it, Ivy. I can see tomorrow with you. I can see next year and, if I let myself go there, I can see diamond rings and make up where my razor should be.”
She frowned. “We’ll need a bigger bathroom.”
“I’m serious.”
“How can you be? We’ve known each other--" she glanced at her watch, “Five hours
and forty-five minutes.” She peered at him with suspicion. “Nice try.” The compliment was issued with a twist of her lips before she changed tactics, “Did you know there’s a whole school of thought that believes the world will end September thirteenth, two-thousand and thirteen. It’s a Friday.”
“They believed the end of the Mayan calendar meant the end of human life, too.” He spread his arms to indicate all the tables surrounding them, each one occupied. Callahan’s was popular, even after the traditional dinner hour. “Anyway, we’re a few weeks from Armageddon.”
“You wouldn’t want to spend your last breath wishing you’d had more of me,” she taunted.
Her words hit home. Except the present moment, nothing about life was guaranteed. When he was in Afghanistan, he’d lived with that on a daily basis, held proof of it in his arms as Arturo died. Her words made him think about how temporary life could be. How we often lived our days doing more of what we didn’t want to do, and far less of what we longed for. But he was done with the any port in a storm thinking. He wanted more than that. He needed more than that.
The conflict waged inside him as he considered her determination. Ivy knew her mind. He should respect that. And not just because it served him well, though for that reason he began to pick apart his easy capitulation. Coming together had to be good for both of them. Physically, he would make sure that Ivy got everything she needed and more. Emotionally, he’d gotten a lot of push and pull from her. He suspected she didn’t know where she stood as far as developing a relationship with him. And he wanted her to be sure. Would sex confuse her emotions? Or