Chapter Seventy-Six

Candlelight flickered between them and he reached across the table, curling his fingers under hers as she took a sip from her glass and set the footed goblet on the snowy white tablecloth. His thumb caressed her knuckles lightly. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

“You’re staring.” Her gaze shifted away from his to the view out the plate glass window. The ocean was calm with the waves rolling gently onto the shore before being pulled back out again.

“You’re beautiful” was his simple answer.

“You keep saying that and my head won’t fit through the door on the way out” she joked. She had never been comfortable accepting compliments. More, she still found it difficult to believe that this man could find her attractive after all the beautiful women he had been associated with over the years.

He squeezed her fingers, trying to gain her attention. She had averted her gaze and didn’t seem to want to look at him. “Hey.”

She finally pulled her gaze away from the window and met his. She picked up her glass again and sipped the Pellegrino that harbored just a hint of the lime that was floating in it. “Hmm, what?”

“I meant it.” He picked up his own glass, taking a deep draught of the fizzy water. “And I’ll tell you as often as you need me to so you start to believe it.” At her skeptical look he continued. “The first time I saw you in that restaurant at The Grove, I knew you were different. You were as far removed from Hollywood as a body could get and that was one of the things about you that pulled at me. You have a fresh pretty face that hasn’t been tainted by the madness out here that drives women, and more than a few men, to try to preserve themselves with injections, surgeries, what have you.”

Their waiter approached, interrupting him. “Here is your calamari. Can I bring you anything else? Can I bring either of you another drink?”

“No” they replied almost in unison.

When the waiter was gone again, Stephanie picked at the light, crispy fried mollusk while wondering if Richie was going to say anything more or if he was going to move on from the subject of her.

He watched her, considering. He needed to lighten the mood. Tonight wasn’t for all this seriousness. Richie popped a piece of the calamari into his mouth before speaking. “You should know something about me, sweetheart.”

One slim, well-groomed eyebrow rose in question. “Oh, what’s that?”

“I never say anything I don’t mean. So, when I tell you I think you’re beautiful, you can rest assured that I’m not just blowing smoke up that very fine ass of yours.”

She chuckled at his pronouncement. “Thanks for that, I think.” God she was going to miss him in the coming weeks.

They finished their appetizer and the waiter brought their dinners. The sun set while they were eating, leaving them bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. Her tuna was done to a perfect medium rare, not that she noticed. Eating was the last thing on her mind as they sat in their little corner. She would miss seeing him every day, sharing meals, taking long walks on the beach, going for drives, sharing the couch to watch a movie. Just having an inane conversation about absolutely nothing.

The six weeks was starting to feel like six years.

Setting his fork down, Richie reached across the table, squeezing her fingers. “Hey, where’d you go?” He had been talking and she hadn’t said a word. From the look on her face, he’d guess she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

She set her fork down and picked up the napkin that lay in her lap. She blotted her mouth and took a sip from her glass. “Would you excuse me for a minute?” She set her napkin on the table and stood, grabbing her purse. “I’ll be right back.” She didn’t wait for a response, she just stepped away and headed across the restaurant toward the ladies room. She’d be damned if she was going to cry in front of him, and definitely not in the middle of the freaking restaurant.

Pushing the heavy wooden door she was relieved to find the room empty. Closing herself in one of the stalls she rested her forehead against the cool metal door. She refused to sit on the public porcelain. She really didn’t have to go anyway. She just needed a minute to get herself together. She took a deep breath in for three, held it for three seconds and blew it out for three. The yoga breathing helped settle her. It was only six weeks, not forever. She had managed for the 30 days he had been gone for rehab, 42 shouldn't be so hard, right?

After another series of breaths, she unlocked the door and stepped toward the mirror. Her eyes were bright with the tears she refused to shed. Blinking rapidly, she forced them away and with another set of breaths she opened her purse and refreshed her lipstick. Her man was waiting for her.

Stepping out of the restroom she was surprised to find Richie literally waiting for her. He was standing in the middle of the little hallway, her wrap in one hand, their dessert in a to go container in the other. “Rich?”

The look on her face when she had walked away from the table had him signaling for the check. He needed to get her away from here. “I thought we’d take a walk on the beach before heading back and having our dessert.”

She took her wrap from him. “Okay, that sounds nice, actually.” The ride to what she considered their beach would give her a little extra time to get a grip on her emotions.

She concentrated on her breathing and making small talk with Richie while he drove and found a parking spot. Opening her door she started to step out when his hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, “what?”

A long finger stroked lightly over the soft skin of her forearm and those full lips of his curled into an intimate smile. “Are you going to take your shoes off?”

Drawing her eyes from his she turned and looked down, looking back at him with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I guess I should.” She shook her head at herself as she unbuckled the thin straps and left the sexy shoes on the floor of the car. When she looked up again, Richie was standing in front of her, holding out his hand.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s walk off some of that dinner so we have room for dessert.” And I think we need to have a chat.

She took his hand and followed him through the opening in the concrete barrier. The sand was soft and cool under her feet as they walked. The moon hadn’t quite made its full ascent into the sky and the stars winked brightly at them. It was a beautiful night for a sandy stroll.

Richie slid his arm around her shoulders and slowed her to a stop, turning her to face him. The storm of emotions she was harboring swirled in the brown and green of her eyes. “Talk to me Sweetheart. What’s going on with you? You weren’t yourself at the restaurant.” He was sure he knew what the problem was, but leaving was part of his job. He had spent his life leaving those he loved behind for weeks, months at a time. It wasn’t the favorite aspect of his job, but it couldn’t be helped and it was the sacrifice he made to go and do what he loved most. The reward was more than worth the sacrifice.

He watched her struggle against those emotions, fighting them with everything she had. Where she found that strength he didn’t know but there had to be a deep, bottomless well of it within her that she tapped into time and again. When her eyes met his he could see the wetness there, but not a tear spilled down her cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

She took a deep breath in for three, held it for three and blew it out for three. “I’m going to miss you and I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard. You were gone for nearly as long when you went to rehab a few months ago and I was fine.” She paced away from him and back again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.”

He did.  She was going to be alone.  Sure, he was leaving and going to be away from her, but he would be surrounded by his friends for the better part of every day.  She really didn’t have anyone in California.  Her family was all out on the other side of the country.  She’d be by herself.  “Do you have anything planned for while I’m gone?  Other than your Habitat work?”

She thought for a moment.  “No, I guess I don’t.  I thought about maybe going to a ball game, but other than that, I haven’t planned anything.”  The wheels started turning in her head.  She could call Darcy and see if she wanted to have dinner, maybe see if Ava would join her on a day trip to the San Diego Zoo or Disneyland or the Santa Monica Pier or somewhere fun.  She took another breath and felt infinitely calmer than she had just a little while ago.  Why hadn’t she thought of these things before she had a near meltdown at the restaurant?

Stephanie looked up at him with an embarrassed smile.  “Sorry I freaked out and ruined our dinner.”

Taking her hands, he hauled her in, held her close.  “You didn’t ruin anything.  Are you okay now?”  Her eyes looked significantly less stormy than they had just a few minutes before. 

She nodded, “I am.  I just need to figure out how to fill up the time.  But I think I have a few ideas to get me going.”  She leaned up and pressed lips to his.  “Do you think Ava would want to hang out with an old lady like myself?”

He smiled gently down at her.  “If you’re old, Sweetheart, what does that make me?”  Before she could open her mouth he cut her off.  “Forget I asked, I’m not sure I want to know.”   At her laugh he continued.  “I’m sure Ava would like to spend some time with you.  I’m glad you two get along.”  He couldn’t be happier that his two favorite girls were getting along, becoming friends.

Standing in the pool of moonlight, he stared down at her.  Her skin fairly sparkled in the silvery light.  Her eyes were storm free and soft, looking at him as though she could see right into the heart of him.  Suddenly the six weeks seemed to stretch before him in a bottomless well of empty, lonely hotel rooms and bad room service.  He pulled her closer, bringing them hip to hip and heart to heart.  He didn’t want to talk about his daughter anymore.  He didn’t want talk about his impending departure.  His lips sought out hers, a gentle brush of his over hers.  He did it again, and once more before resting his forehead against hers.  He breathed her in for just a moment.

“Let’s go back to your place, Sweetheart.”

She took his hand and followed him to the car.

~

Instead of heading up the stairs when they walked through the front door, Richie led her down the hall and into the kitchen.  She set her things on the table and watched him search for something in the drawers.  “What are you looking for?” 

“A fork.”

“Top drawer, left of the stove.”

Finding what he was looking for he came back to her and took her hand again, leading her out the French doors to the deck and the lounge chair she had there.  Settling himself back against it, he patted the cushion between his thighs, “have a seat.”

She stood, dumbfounded for just a moment.  He had been serious about dessert.  Settling against him, she found her hands full of a Styrofoam to go container.  “You really want to eat this now?”

No, but he wanted to spend every minute he could with her, so they would start here and go wherever the minutes, hours took them.  He wasn’t in a hurry.  Yet.  “Do you want to at least see what it is?”

She popped open the container in answer.  The oversize cream puff oozed pastry cream and strawberries between its flaky layers.  “Well, maybe we can taste just a little.”  She stuck her finger in the dollop of fresh whipped cream that topped the luscious dessert and sucked the cream off.  “Mmmmmm” she purred.  She dipped her finger in the cream again and held it up for him.  “Want some?”

He hardened behind her and grabbed her fingers, swirling his tongue around the tip, relishing the purr that he drew from her nearly as much as creamy sweetness itself.  “You’re right, Sweetheart, it is good.” 

He picked up the fork and reached over her shoulder to cut off a small piece of the flaky pastry. “Open up” he held the fork up in front of her mouth.  She did as he asked and when she felt the tip of the fork against her tongue, she closed her mouth and slowly pulled her head back, sliding her lips over the tines of the fork, groaning in appreciation.

“That is so good” she sighed and took the fork from his fingers.  Carefully, she turned so she was resting on her hip against him.  Setting the fork on the little table next to the chair, she dipped her fingers into the pastry cream and held them up to his mouth.  “Open up.”

He sucked her fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tips until he had her purring again.  His dick twitched in his pants.  God he loved that sound she made.  Abandoning her fingers, his mouth sought hers. 

She managed to set the styrofoam box on the little table as his mouth came down on hers.  His lips were soft and insistent, demanding that she reciprocate.  Her hands slid up his chest, his neck, cupping his face as the kiss grew hungrier.

His hands tightened on her waist, urging her closer.  Long fingers inched the hem of her dress up her thighs so she could straddle his lap.  They curled around her hips pulling her against him before traveling up, across the bare expanse of her back to her nape, tugging at the ties. 

She felt the ties loosen and slip.  She inched back, his eyes were dark and needy.  She tore her gaze from his and glanced around.  She hoped no one would see them. “Here?”

He let the ties fall from his fingers and the top of her dress slipped down.  Her nipples hardened further in the night air and he cupped one full breast.  “Here, sweetheart.  Right here.”  He barely got the words out before he leaned in and took one rosy tip in his mouth.

Her head dropped back, the pull of his mouth on her breast echoed in the pull she felt in womb.  She rocked against him growing needier with every lap of his tongue on her aching breasts.   Her hands fisted in her hair, pulling it up and letting it fall as she rolled her hips against him. 

His thumbs replaced his mouth, lightly scraping back and forth as he watched her writhe on his lap.  As far as lap dances went, she was doing a hell of a job.  When she rocked against him, he pressed his hips up, seeking that connection with her.  He needed it, needed her.

He eased her back, laying her down on the lounger.  Her dress bunched around her waist and her feet rested flat on the floor, her knees splayed wide.  Reaching out, he traced her center over her panties.  “You’re so wet for me” he murmured.  He pressed harder, finding the nub of her clit and working it in a slow, lazy circle.

She arched her back and her impassioned plea rent the air. 

“You’re nearly there” he continued to play her.  “Come like this for me.”  He wanted to watch her.  Wanted to imprint this moment on his brain so he wouldn’t forget it while he was away from her.  He pressed her further, urged her higher until she broke apart under his touch.   “That’s it darlin’” he encouraged.  “That’s the way, just let it go.”  He gentled his touch, rising from the chair as she started to settle.  He dug in his pocket before dropping his pants and shirt to the floor.  Climbing back on the chair he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her up to his lap.

Still logy with release, she lazily stroked his chest, toying with first one, then the other coppery nipple.  Leaning in she tasted one.  He hissed his appreciation when she sucked hard enough to leave a mark.  Shifting, she pulled at her dress, un-bunching it from around her waist and dropping it behind her.  She leaned back in, wanting to feel his skin against hers.

He had another idea.  Once again he laid her back on the chaise, working her panties down and off.  With her feet planted on the floor, he pushed her knees wide and thrust inside her, burying himself to the root in her wet, welcoming heat.  “Better and better every time” he whispered.  She always felt so damn good around him. 

The moon shone down on them and the stars twinkled as they moved together on that chair.  He brought her to the edge of ecstasy again and again, not letting her finish, holding back his own impending eruption until he could ignore it no longer.  “Sweetheart…”

Her knees hugged his hips, her fingertips dug into his shoulders, “Richie…God…I can’t…”  She threw her head back, arching her neck, crying out as every muscle tightened and she shuddered all around him.

He followed right behind her, pulsing out his release, panting out her name. 

Finding the breath and strength to move, Richie sat back on the chair, pulling her with him, cradling her against him.  Reaching down he found his shirt and draped it over her quickly cooling skin.  Wrapping his arms around her he held her close, not wanting this night to end.

Six weeks away never seemed so long before.