you’re there . I mean it.” She turns and skips back down the stairs, calling behind her, “I’m so happy for you!”
Chapter Thirteen
(19:19)
J OCELYN’S AT THE SIGNPOST and Lucas isn’t. When she first arrived, and he wasn’t there, she was OK about it.
I mean, yeah, she was hoping to be able to sashay up to him, letting him notice how the wrap skirt Beth loaned her split when she walked, flashing quite a bit of thigh.
But, she got over that disappointment quickly. He was probably just around the corner. He’d be there any minute.
In the meantime, she just had to keep her shoulders back and look cool, and pretty, and not bothered.
Then two minutes ticked by. And three.
Do not check your phone.
Four. And five.
Do not fidget, slouch, twirl your hair, or pick at your nails.
This was going past a watches–being–out–of–sync situation to a lateness situation.
Unless he’s not late — unless he’s not coming … shit, Jocelyn — don’t think that!
Finally she gives in; pulls out her phone. I’m here.
That’s reasonable. He’s late. There’s no other way to interpret it. Late, late, late.
Her phone buzzes. I know.
Her eyebrows furrow and her phone vibrates again.
I’m watching you.
She whirls around. Where is he?
You are so hot.
Now her skin is warm all over. She doesn’t know where he is, so he could be looking at any part of her. She stands straighter, smooths a hand across the flat of her stomach, tugs at her skirt …
Buzz … Do that again.
What?
The thing with your skirt. Sexy.
She does something a little different. She eases the wrap apart — just a bit — then turns slowly in a circle.
Nice.
She thumbs back. This isn’t fair.
Why not?
I want to see you. She presses send. Adds, I want you.
Look at the river.
What? Why? Whatever … She does. Turns and faces the river while the breeze licks between her legs, ruffling her skirt and cooling the damp fabric of the crotch of her underwear.
Two arms go around her waist. Strong and firm. They trail across her stomach while Lucas’s soft breath warms her ear. “God, you’re fit. The minute I saw you touching yourself here, I wanted to touch you, too.”
“Oh yeah?” She leans back, pushing against him. “So, what about if I touch myself here?” She knows he’s watching over her shoulder while she trails her hand to the V between her legs.
He groans. “Oh, Jocelyn. I think we’d better go out for dinner now, or we’re never going to make it.”
Never going to make it sounds pretty good right now.
Except.
Except this is the re–start button. This is doing it right. They should go out for dinner. If nothing else, at least the food will give her the energy she needs for the rest of the night.
It takes wrenching effort, but she steps forward, away from him, turns to face him. “OK. Let’s go. Right now. Before I change my mind.”
***
“No.” She shakes her head when he leads her to the pub, that pub, the pub of wonder, the pub of frustration.
The pub where Ade works.
“Why not?”
“I …” She hesitates.
“You slept with the waiter.”
She lets her flushing cheeks answer the question.
“I can’t believe you slept with the waiter!”
“Yes, you can. You’re the one who guessed it.” She gives him a sideways glance. “So, what was it like not sleeping with Charlotte after you met me?”
He hooks his arm around her neck, pulls her in for a kiss. “It’s sexy how smart you are.”
She sighs. “You know what? OK. Let’s eat here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Start as we mean to go on. Out in the open.” She bites her lip. “I hope.”
He nods. Takes her hand. “Yes.”
“Good.”
They sit down and it’s awkward. At least it is for her. She does, and doesn’t, want to be sitting here, ordering a pint of beer and a grilled chicken salad. Does, and doesn’t, want to be asking him, “So, what’s new at work?” Does, and doesn’t, want to be keeping her toes — kicked out of
Chapter Thirteen
(19:19)
J OCELYN’S AT THE SIGNPOST and Lucas isn’t. When she first arrived, and he wasn’t there, she was OK about it.
I mean, yeah, she was hoping to be able to sashay up to him, letting him notice how the wrap skirt Beth loaned her split when she walked, flashing quite a bit of thigh.
But, she got over that disappointment quickly. He was probably just around the corner. He’d be there any minute.
In the meantime, she just had to keep her shoulders back and look cool, and pretty, and not bothered.
Then two minutes ticked by. And three.
Do not check your phone.
Four. And five.
Do not fidget, slouch, twirl your hair, or pick at your nails.
This was going past a watches–being–out–of–sync situation to a lateness situation.
Unless he’s not late — unless he’s not coming … shit, Jocelyn — don’t think that!
Finally she gives in; pulls out her phone. I’m here.
That’s reasonable. He’s late. There’s no other way to interpret it. Late, late, late.
Her phone buzzes. I know.
Her eyebrows furrow and her phone vibrates again.
I’m watching you.
She whirls around. Where is he?
You are so hot.
Now her skin is warm all over. She doesn’t know where he is, so he could be looking at any part of her. She stands straighter, smooths a hand across the flat of her stomach, tugs at her skirt …
Buzz … Do that again.
What?
The thing with your skirt. Sexy.
She does something a little different. She eases the wrap apart — just a bit — then turns slowly in a circle.
Nice.
She thumbs back. This isn’t fair.
Why not?
I want to see you. She presses send. Adds, I want you.
Look at the river.
What? Why? Whatever … She does. Turns and faces the river while the breeze licks between her legs, ruffling her skirt and cooling the damp fabric of the crotch of her underwear.
Two arms go around her waist. Strong and firm. They trail across her stomach while Lucas’s soft breath warms her ear. “God, you’re fit. The minute I saw you touching yourself here, I wanted to touch you, too.”
“Oh yeah?” She leans back, pushing against him. “So, what about if I touch myself here?” She knows he’s watching over her shoulder while she trails her hand to the V between her legs.
He groans. “Oh, Jocelyn. I think we’d better go out for dinner now, or we’re never going to make it.”
Never going to make it sounds pretty good right now.
Except.
Except this is the re–start button. This is doing it right. They should go out for dinner. If nothing else, at least the food will give her the energy she needs for the rest of the night.
It takes wrenching effort, but she steps forward, away from him, turns to face him. “OK. Let’s go. Right now. Before I change my mind.”
***
“No.” She shakes her head when he leads her to the pub, that pub, the pub of wonder, the pub of frustration.
The pub where Ade works.
“Why not?”
“I …” She hesitates.
“You slept with the waiter.”
She lets her flushing cheeks answer the question.
“I can’t believe you slept with the waiter!”
“Yes, you can. You’re the one who guessed it.” She gives him a sideways glance. “So, what was it like not sleeping with Charlotte after you met me?”
He hooks his arm around her neck, pulls her in for a kiss. “It’s sexy how smart you are.”
She sighs. “You know what? OK. Let’s eat here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Start as we mean to go on. Out in the open.” She bites her lip. “I hope.”
He nods. Takes her hand. “Yes.”
“Good.”
They sit down and it’s awkward. At least it is for her. She does, and doesn’t, want to be sitting here, ordering a pint of beer and a grilled chicken salad. Does, and doesn’t, want to be asking him, “So, what’s new at work?” Does, and doesn’t, want to be keeping her toes — kicked out of
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