Finding Herself Read online

‘It sounded like a hell of a day,’ he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

  ‘How –?’

  ‘These apartments are fierce, but the walls are like fucking tissue paper, sweetie.’

  She put her head in her hands. ‘It was just one day.’

  ‘One day that stuck with you,’ he said, patting her head like she was a child. ‘And let me tell you, sister, as a man who entertains his fair share. One day that sticks with you can beat a thousand days you can barely remember any day. Sometimes you remember days because they’re meant to be memorable.’

  ‘What are you, Buddha?’

  ‘Yes. I’m your local, fantastically glamorous Buddha. And I say, listen to your heart. Or if not your heart, that little nervous thing in the pit of your stomach that’s telling you to go see him.’ He sashayed to the door. ‘Om, motherfuckers,’ he said and winked. Then he was gone.

  Sophie didn’t want her wine. She wanted a clear head. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She turned off her phone, took a long, hot bath, and crawled into bed. She’d figure it out tomorrow.

  Morning came much too fast. She’d tossed and turned all night with what Kevin had said to her stuck in her head. In her damn thick head. But she was too afraid to call. To react. Because what if she was wrong? What if she was just grasping at straws like so many women she’d seen? Women who had attained all the things they’d wanted and then just reached out to some man – any man – because they thought that was what they were supposed to do?

  ‘I don’t want to do things just because I’m supposed to.’

  Simon, who’d been behaving like a saint dog lately, even letting her meditate when she tried without washing her whole face with his big, pink tongue, hopped up onto the bed.

  ‘What if you’re supposed to be the only man in my life, Simon?

  He cocked his head and thumped his tail on the bed.

  ‘Want to walk?’

  At the magical word “walk”, he was off like a shot, practically vaulting through the air to scamper to the front door. Sophie sighed and climbed out of bed. She’d make a quick coffee and go walk. Maybe it would help her mind.

  She found herself, though it was really no surprise, following her route to the trail. Only this time the sun was already up, the day had started, people bustled about, and Simon basked in the glow of multiple compliments. She picked her way along the trail, careful to not slip and fall on her ass in the frozen snow. Simon seemed to tug her along to the place she’d first met Tate and she let him. Shamelessly.

  Part of Sophie hoped, with held breath, that he’d be there when she turned the corner. That he’d be sitting out there on the rocks, looking at where the moon had been, face tilted up to the sun. Cheeks ruddy from the wind, that half smile on his face.

  But the rocks were empty apart for one brave seagull that regarded her coolly before flapping off.

  ‘No sign from the Universe.’ She sighed. Simon sat, thumped his tail. His tongue lolled out and he seemed to smile at her.

  Simon suddenly went on red alert and his big body went rigid.

  ‘Simon, no –’ she started, but it was too late. He took off toward the sound like a shot. Most likely a squirrel or a rabbit. But it didn’t matter what it was. What mattered was him running from her.

  Sophie started out after him, grateful the rocks weren’t slick the way they were in spring and summer. She jumped to the far bank and rushed through the woods shouting, ‘Come! Bad dog! Simon come!’ and every other variation of commands that might make him return.

  None worked.

  Then he stopped cold and she damn near tripped over him. He’d treed whatever he’d been chasing and now sat at the base of the tree, staring up, chuffing and wagging his tail.

  ‘Dammit. At least I didn’t trip over you.’ She sighed and then moved to grab his leash. She promptly tripped over a dead limb buried in the leaves. Sophie went down in a heap, then stayed sprawled out still as the dead to see if she’d hurt herself.

  Simon licked her face and bounded playfully around her. ‘This is your fault,’ she groaned.

  Investigation of herself showed nothing worse than a broken shoelace. Annoying, because every time she took a step she walked out of her trainer. They were a bit too big to begin with. ‘Great. Now what?’

  It was a long way back and the ground was uneven and who knew what kind of debris was under all the leaves. She couldn’t hike back with one shoe.

  Simon playfully stretched and bounced. ‘Knock it off, Tigger.’ She snorted and eyed her ancient tee. ‘I’ll just have to create my own shoelace,’ she said, tearing a thin strip off the well-worn fabric from her T-shirt hem. She rolled it between her fingers the way she had once in a craft project. In middle school they’d used old T-shirts to make a rag rug. Then she threaded it through the eyes of her shoe and tied it off.

  ‘Hunh. Not too shabby,’ she told Simon. ‘I’m quite the crafty inventor.’ He licked her. It hit her then. Like a fist to the face. ‘Life is not about discovering yourself, Simon,’ she whispered. He licked her again. ‘It’s about inventing yourself.’

  Then she was running once more, but this time it was Simon who was running after her.

  Chapter Ten

  She wasn’t sure what to do. Just what she wanted to do. Then the text came in and she was saved. A quick stop to drop Simon and a frenzied rush to her car, fucked up shoe and all. Sophie broke several laws on the way, speeding being the least. And then she was in the snarl and cluster fuck that was the airport.

  ‘He could be … anywhere.’

  The text had told her his flight was in. It had also said I won’t stalk you ;-). But I’m thinking of you.

  Thinking of her. Just like she’d been thinking of him non-stop since their one afternoon together. Sophie knew who she was. Now it was time to be who she wanted to be. The girl who’d achieved all those goals and now this … a girl who was falling for a guy who somehow made her heart happy. She wanted at least a chance for them. This was the answer.

  ‘My choice,’ she growled, swerving into short-term parking. She had to follow the parking structure down, down, down to the bowels of the garage. All the way in the farthest murky shadow was a lone parking slot. Almost too narrow for her SUV, but she managed to get it in and then performed gymnastics to get herself out. But she was there. To find him.

  Sophie started running again. Her heart felt lighter than it had in ages.

  She had no idea what gate. She had no idea what flight even, other than China. She started chanting as she ran, almost oblivious of it until some passers-by did a double take.

  ‘ChinaChinaChina …’

  A young hipster with suspenders and Urkel glasses smiled. ‘A China flight just came in at gate 17 and – ‘

  She didn’t let him finish but took off toward the red arrows that listed gates 17-20. And then … a flash of brown. Broad shoulders. Kicked-around leather boots and faded jeans and a carry-on bag that brought to mind men like Indiana Jones and grand adventure and a free spirit –

  There! At the taxi stand.

  Him.

  Sophie ran toward him, felt her fabricated shoestring snap and her shoe start to fall off. She glanced down for a minute, figured fuck it, and gave a leap. Right into the arms of … the wrong man.

  They both stumbled and almost went down. Her losing a shoe, him surprised by the flying blonde. She managed to catch herself from falling all the way by kneeling on one knee. The stranger barely managed to right himself as she muttered apologies.

  Tate grinned down at her. His face red, like maybe he was blushing. But his smile – his smile spoke volumes – even she could see that, even so embarrassed she thought she might die. He was glad to see her. When he offered his hand she grabbed it and let him help her up. Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Hard. Like they were long-lost lovers. Because they were.

  Sort of.

  ‘I take it you might be happy to see me,’ he murmured into her hair. Every
one was watching them. Sophie didn’t care.

  ‘A bit,’ she said and kissed him again.

  When he pulled back a little and looked down at her with those kind eyes, something in her melted. Something old and brittle inside her died. ‘I missed you, Sophie. As strange as that might be.’

  ‘Not strange,’ she said. ‘I missed you too. And –’ She took a big deep breath and steeled herself. ‘The me I’ve invented wants you,’ she blurted. ‘Wants to take a chance on us. Even though it’s scary. You know … if you’re into that kind of thing.’ She coughed but forced herself to not run away.

  There was that impish half grin again and he pushed his hands into her hair and pulled her forward for one more romance movie kiss. All the emotion got stuck in her chest, clogged her throat, as he cradled her head and pressed his lips to hers.

  She grabbed his hand, the kiss having dropped to her belly, filled her pelvis, nestled between her thighs. ‘Come on. Hurry.’

  ‘Hurry?’

  ‘I need this,’ she whispered. Then, ‘Oh shit, do you have any more luggage?’

  He waved his carry-on. ‘Just this. And judging by the look in your eyes, Sophie, even if I did – it could wait.’

  She laughed softly, tugged him along, her retrieved busted shoe flapping as she hurried.

  When they finally reached the car she felt like she was floating. ‘Airport sex,’ she snorted and then hit the release for her door.

  ‘How am I supposed to get in there?’ he asked, trying not to laugh.

  She was on the end. Barely any room on her side to open the door without hitting the neighbouring car and on the passenger side maybe two inches until the door would hit the concrete wall. Tate was a big guy; two inches would not do.

  She stared. ‘Right. Hold on.’ She popped the release on the back gate and lifted it up. She crawled into the cargo bay, then over into the backseat. A few practised moves and she’d pulled the headrests and cushions off and lowered the seats. Now the back of the car was one large cargo bay.

  She crawled back and grinned up at him. ‘Big enough for two people. Even for your bag, sir. Am I giddy?’ she gasped. ‘I feel giddy.’

  Tate chuckled and slid his bag in, giving it a shove so it was out of the way. Then Sophie grabbed it and dumped it unceremoniously into the front passenger seat. He crawled in and pulled the hatch door shut. They were in utter darkness but for some greenish-yellow light from the parking structure lamps.

  ‘Sometimes when we follow our hearts we feel giddy,’ he said. She could just make out that he was smiling at her.

  Tate touched her face and she sighed. ‘I am thankful,’ she said.

  ‘For following your heart?’ He kissed her neck.

  ‘For tinted windows,’ she whispered. ‘Because my heart is telling me to take your pants off.’

  She shoved her hands against his belt buckle and yanked at it even as he got tangled in his jacket. He finally got it off and she got his belt buckle open and her hands down the front of his jeans and yes – she took him in hand and squeezed the warmth of his cock hard enough to make him groan.

  ‘I see you are happy I came to pick you up.’

  ‘I’ve thought about nothing but you for days and days,’ he said, pulling her sweater over her head. His mouth came down on her clavicle, her breasts. He pulled her bra cups down, sucked her nipples one at a time, slowly so she felt the tug and draw of it in her throat and belly. ‘Of course I’m happy.’

  ‘Yes, good, good,’ she growled. ‘By the way, my brain has shut down. I have no idea what I’m saying.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said. She could hear him smiling.

  Tate laid a kiss on every inch of her. His tongue and his lips working her up into a frenzy so that when he got her jeans down and slipped a finger into her – to test her wetness – she moaned. Far off, a car door slammed. Another started. People were wandering all around them and she wondered if they’d get reported. Go to jail …

  ‘It’s worth it,’ she muttered.

  ‘What’s worth it?’ He kissed a hot trail down her belly and his mouth, warm and wet, settled on her pussy. He licked her a handful of times and curled his fingers in her cunt and she came. Just like that. Covering her mouth with her fist to keep herself quiet.

  ‘If we get arrested for public fornication,’ she said once she was able.

  ‘I agree. Worth it.’ His voice was a growl as he moved up her body. She felt the hardness of his cock along her thigh, her hipbone … then he settled between her legs. ‘I don’t have a condom.’

  Pause.

  ‘I don’t either. I’m … well, I’m clean. And I’m on the pill and I would like to …’ She found her breath. ‘Are you clean, Tate?’

  ‘As a whistle,’ he said. ‘It’s been a while for me. You were my first in a long while, Sophie.’ He kissed her, the tip of him probing her but not entering. She squeezed her thighs tight to add friction, to make him sigh. And he did.

  She kissed his neck, his ears, his eyelids. She played her lips over his cheekbones and his mouth and soaked up the feel of his body warmth colliding with hers. ‘Then shut up and fuck me, Tate. I’ve been having dreams about it – both sleeping and waking.’ She laughed.

  He shut up. Tate put his big hands on her legs and spread them wide. He angled back, watching his body enter hers even in the dim glow of the parking garage lights. Sophie held her breath, tried so hard to be patient but failed as pleasure flooded her body. She arched her hips up and took him in, his cock brushing all the swollen, sensitive places inside her. When he was fully seated and began to move, slowly at first, every bang of his pelvic bone to her clit almost set her off. She was so far gone from days of thinking of and wishing for this moment, she knew it wouldn’t take much.

  She scraped her teeth down along his shoulder. Just hard enough to make him hiss, just hard enough to make him thrust a bit deeper. ‘Sophie, if you do that again –’

  She did it again, then craned her neck to lick the places she’d just teased. Tate ground his hips from side to side, pushing his cock deep into her. Her cunt flickered, gripped up tight, she was so close – but she held it off.

  He kissed her. The hands that had braced him now held her shoulders flush to the car floor. His body fully covered hers, his hips moving in a magical way that had her reeling. Her heart thundered and she admitted on a puff of air, ‘I’m going to come.’

  His mouth found her nipple and he bit her. He moved to the other, bit her again. Her stomach muscles rippled with the force of her orgasm as the first deep spasm hit her. His hand clamped down over her mouth and that added bit of naughty – him blocking her sound and some of her air – just made the orgasm that much intense.

  Sophie struggled for breath, wrapped her legs around his waist, and squeezed her internal muscles tight as he moved. His rhythm had grown desperate and rough.

  Tate released her shoulders, shoved his hands under her ass, and angled her. He drove into her so hard they both scooted along the carpet. She’d have rug burns on her back.

  Good.

  ‘Jesus, Sophie. I don’t know how I missed you so much after less than a week. But I did.’

  ‘Shh,’ she told him. ‘If you keep talking, I might come again.’

  He moved her hips up a bit higher to get his perfect angle. It hit her G-spot with every thrust and he pushed her hands against the seat above her head to keep from scooting any more. She was braced, and every time he drove into her, he hit that amazing place.

  ‘As if that’s a bad thing.’ He laughed.

  ‘I know, I know … but I want you to –’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, and then, ‘I’m there.’

  He came, burying his face in her neck as she clutched at him, reaching her own peak. Tate didn’t stop his motion. She held him close and moved in time. Despite the fact that he was softening, a baby orgasm burst inside her like a bright ray of sunshine and Sophie said, ‘Oh.’

  Tate smoothed her hair back and kissed her. She co
uld feel more than see him staring into her eyes. ‘I’m glad you came to get me, Sophie.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I hope you like the you you’ve invented.’

  ‘So far, so good.’ She relaxed into his embrace. Held him as close as he was holding her.

  ‘I think before we get arrested, though, we might want to get dressed and leave. I could use a shower.’

  ‘Me too.’ She reached out and tried to find her jeans. ‘And once I have you clean …’

  He was shoving his legs into his pants and trying to get them up. The car next to them started and they both froze as if they’d been caught trying to rob a bank. Neither moved until the car slowly backed out and the headlights painted golden streaks along their faces. Though no one could see her, Sophie covered her breasts and yelped. Tate laughed.

  ‘Once you have me clean?’ he asked, pulling on his tee.

  ‘Oh, once I have you clean,’ she said, ‘I plan to dirty you up again.’

  ‘I can live with that,’ Tate said and then he just stared at her.’

  ‘What?’

  He touched her face and her whole body tingled. ‘I’m just thinking what a wonderful person you’ve invented.’

  ‘A girl who likes to get down and dirty in the airport parking structure?’

  ‘Hey, even the most Zen people have their naughty streaks,’ he said. ‘Now take me home, Sophie. I’ve had many dirty dreams about you and I plan to re-enact them all.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Sophie said, crawling into the front seat. ‘Wait until Temperance finds out I not only found my centre, but there was the bonus prize of a hot, sexy man attached.’

  ‘Oh, you’re making me blush.’

  ‘Good,’ Sophie said, pulling out of the parking spot so that Tate could get out and then get into the passenger seat. ‘I plan to make you blush often.’

  He put his hand on her thighs and squeezed. ‘And I promise to do the same to you, Sophie. Starting the minute we get to your place.’

  ‘I’ve never been in love. Ever,’ she blurted, suddenly feeling the need to be 1000 per cent honest.

  He cocked his head. Just watching her. Waiting.