The Perfect Man Read online

  Could he? I did owe him. He’d been nothing but kind to me. If anything, I should buy him a drink. “No.” His smile faltered. “But I’ll buy you one.”

  His bark of laughter was gun-shot loud in the snow-quieted night, yet it fit right in. “Scared me there.” His hand tightened around mine, and he nodded down the street. “Come on. Let’s get inside before you freeze.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He wasn’t going to ask about Jonah. “I freeze? What about you? Or are you too macho to freeze?” The heel of my boot slipped over a patch of ice, and I flailed, catching myself before I landed on my ass. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to catch my breath, waiting for my heart to return to its usual spot in my chest. “Um. No offense, but maybe I should have my hand free. These boots aren’t exactly made for walking in the snow.” The knee-high leather kept my legs warm. The three and a half inch heel was pure vanity. I loved heels, and the boots went with the dress.

  He studied my feet. “They’re definitely made for something else,” he said, voice rough. His eyes flashed up to meet mine, and the heat there rooted me to the spot. An image popped into my head, the two of us naked, clothes strewn around us as he braced me against the wall, fucking me slow and deep.

  And as my legs wrapped around his waist, I saw my boots, the heels digging into his ass, spurring him on.

  I wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, I was very, very warm.

  A snowflake landed on the tip of my nose, and he brushed it off, his hand trembling as he did. His smile was a little ragged around the edges. “How ‘bout that drink?”

  Still in a daze, I nodded, and somehow my brain managed to tell my feet to get moving. We remained silent, taking each other’s measure as we picked our way down the sidewalk. I was hallucinating. Alex could not have possibly been looking at me like he wanted to devour me. No one had. Not even Jonah. And even if I wasn’t, I didn’t know if I could handle what it meant. If I could let go of my residual anger at myself and the fear of being hurt again.

  If I could handle a one night stand.

  I’d never had one before. It wasn’t my style. Sex was too closely tied to emotion for me to just…indulge.

  I was so getting ahead of myself. A polite and friendly conversation did not a one-night stand make.

  He paused in front of a cafe, the warm glow of low lights beckoning us in. “This okay?”

  We stepped inside, warmth rushing forward to envelop us. I scanned the room. It was smaller than the club we’d left, more intimate. Little round tables for two dotted the floor, and most of them were full. There were a few booths along the back wall, cloaked in shadows.

  We found a table toward the back and shrugged out of our coats, unwinding scarves, tucking away gloves. Alex rested his elbows on the table, his gaze on my hair. “I like it. Reminds me of Saffron.”

  It was a little scary that he’d identified the inspiration for my hair color without me having to give so much as a hint. “The lead singer of Republica? You’ve heard of them? Pretty much no one has.”

  He smiled. “‘Ready To Go’ was an awesome song.” It had been, but the mid-nineties had been full of awesome songs. “I liked Sneaker Pimps better, though. Kelli Dayton’s voice was less annoying.”

  I rubbed my hands over my arms, debated slipping my coat back on. Warm as the cafe was, the cold had penetrated deep in the short time we’d been outside. “Saffron does have a bit of a whine going on, doesn’t she?” I glanced up at the waiter, hovering next to our table. “Hot chocolate, please.”

  “Cold?” I shrugged, then nodded. Alex frowned, concern in his dark eyes. “I should have let you go home. It’s too cold out to be walking around.” To the waiter, he said, “Chai tea.”

  I waved it off. “No, I’m fine. Frankly, sitting here with you gives me something to tell Lucy when she asks where I disappeared to.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how horrible they sounded. My teeth clicked together as my jaw snapped shut, fire burning up my neck to the tips of my ears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I—”

  He held up a hand to stop me, mouth quirked in a half smile. “Don’t worry about it.” The half smile faded. “Why were you there, anyway? Like I said earlier, you don’t look like the kind of woman who would attend something like that.”

  I drop my gaze to the tabletop. “It was a favor for a friend. She’s been worried about me for so long, wanted me to get out and meet someone new, and I felt like I owed her.” I peered at him through my lashes. “What about you? I can’t believe you couldn’t find a date for Valentine’s Day.”

  He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally he shrugged, the movement jerky and uncertain. “I work a lot. Meeting new people is hard. I thought it would be different, less of a bar scene. Should have turned right around the minute I stepped inside.”

  I arched a brow.

  He looked confused, then burst out laughing. “Fuck. Walked right into that, didn’t I? If it helps, the night started getting a hell of a lot better the minute you locked us in that closet.”

  The waiter deposited our steaming beverages in front of us, and I curved my hands around the oversized cup, letting the heat seep into my hands. “I’m just thankful you weren’t pointing a Beretta at me.” I lifted the mug and sipped, burning the tip of my tongue. “Ow.”

  “Not a fan of guns, and why would I want to point a weapon at a beautiful woman?” I almost bobbled the cup at the offhand compliment, and I shot him a look over the rim of my cup. He was smiling, his hands much like mine, curled around his mug of tea, but his eyes were dead serious. “Plus, where am I going to find anyone who appreciates the beauty of Trapped in the Closet?”

  “I can’t possibly be the only one.” There was a strange fluttering in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Too many coincidences in a short period of time. All of it stupidly inconsequential, but my mind raced with possibilities anyway. A man, an absolutely gorgeous man, was sitting across from me talking 90’s music and bad pseudo-opera, and for all intents and purposes seemed like he was enjoying himself. Maybe I’d broken my bad luck streak.

  If I thought about it too much, I’d screw up. I pushed the thoughts aside. “So what do you do that keeps you so busy?” I risked another sip of cocoa.

  “I’m an EMT. I usually work swing or night shift. Not real conducive to hanging out, much less dating.” He took a small drink of tea. “You?”

  “Grant writer. I work from home.” In a big, comfy chair with a blanket over my legs. Those first months after Jonah it had been a blessing. I didn’t have to leave my apartment for anything. Groceries, work, nothing.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think I could do that. No incentive to actually get anything done.”

  “Getting paid is usually a pretty big incentive,” I said dryly. “Favorite 90’s one-hit wonder?”

  A frown tugged at his lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Is there a right answer to this question? Lot of pressure. Don’t know if I can take it.” I threw a packet of sugar at him. “‘Medicine.’ Orbit.”

  I pointed at him. “Ah, see, that was the right answer. You picked a song I’ve never heard of, which automatically scores you points. Now I have to hear this song.”

  My phone rang, and I almost jumped out of my chair. Releasing my cup, I dug into my coat pocket and pulled it out. It was Jonah. He could kiss my ass. I declined the call and leaned my elbows on the table. “What about ‘Novocaine for the Soul?’”

  “The Eels? Sorry, I’ve heard of them. Try again.”

  I narrowed my eyes, searching my memory for a particularly obscure choice. “‘Female of the Species.’”

  He opened his mouth, closed it again. Ran a hand through his hair. “No clue,” he said at last.

  I grinned, oddly satisfied I managed to stump him. “Space.”

  My phone rang again. Lucy’s number flashed on the screen. I held up the phone. “Do you mind if I take this? It’s the friend I ca
me with. I don’t want her to worry.”

  He nodded and lifted his mug, and I hit Accept. “Luce.”

  “God, Hannah. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Listen, Jonah showed up. I don’t know how the hell he managed to find the one place you’d be tonight, but he’s here. I’m waiting by the coat check if you want to leave.”

  I slid a glance at Alex. “Um. Actually, I already did.” I hunched in my seat, shoulders around my ears as I waited for Lucy to start flipping out.

  “What?! Why didn’t you come find me first? I would have given you a ride home! How did you get home, anyway?”

  I stifled a sigh at her automatic assumption I’d skipped out for home. “I’m actually in a cafe, having some hot chocolate. Probably going home soon. As for how, I’ll walk or take a cab.”

  Alex set his cup down and shook his head as Lucy started protesting. “It’s too cold and slick out to walk that far, Han. And there’s no point in wasting money on a cab ride. I’ll come to you, give you a ride home.”

  “No!” I turned away from Alex. “No, Luce, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  “If you’re sure…” Lucy sounded anything but sure.

  “I am,” I said firmly. We hung up after I promised again to call her once I got home, and I turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.”

  He didn’t smile. Or grin. The dead serious look in his eye spread to the rest of his face. “How far from here are you?”

  I shrugged. “A few blocks. Five, six. Not that far. Lucy picked me up because she lives farther away, but I’ll be fine walking home.” I was kind of looking forward to it, actually. I loved walking in the snow, and I wouldn’t have to worry about cold, wet feet bothering me for the rest of the evening. I slipped the phone back in my pocket and reached for my cup, swallowing the rest of the cocoa.

  Alex signaled for the check, then grabbed it as soon as it hit the table. “Um. I’m buying, remember?”

  “Not anymore.” He tossed a couple of bills on top of the check and started bundling up, knotting a scarf around his neck. “Five or six blocks, huh?”

  “About, yeah.” If he was going to walk me home, I wouldn’t argue. Even with the weather keeping a lot of people off the streets, there was always the chance some whacko would pop out of a snowdrift. I looped my scarf around my neck and pulled on my coat. “I can usually walk it in about ten, fifteen minutes.”

  He grunted, zipped up his coat, and placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me out of the cafe.

  Then pointed me in the direction of the club we’d met at.

  I tried to turn around, since my apartment was in the opposite direction, and he slid his hand around my waist and caught me. “My car’s parked in the lot behind the club,” he said quietly. “I can drop you.”

  I focused on his mouth, watched it form words that went in one ear and out the other. He’d be a good kisser, I decided. He had the sort of confidence that came with knowledge, and I had no doubt he’d know what he was doing. If I stood here long enough, maybe I could work up the courage to find out if I was right.

  “Hannah?”

  All I had to do was lean in. He’d know what to do. I took a step forward and promptly ruined the moment by slipping on a patch of ice. He caught me at the waist, bring me flush against him. “You okay?”

  Not in the least. “Fine,” I whispered.

  He dipped his head, and his breath whispered over my lips. “I’m going to kiss you, Hannah. So no falling.” The beginnings of a smile were stunted as his mouth pressed against mine.

  His mouth wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hard, either. It fell in that perfect in between, his lips cool, his tongue, when it darted out to trace over the seam of my lips, was warm. He coaxed me into it by increments, a touch here, a flutter there, and my lips parted to let him in. His tongue stroked over mine, slow, firm, making his demands seem more like requests. Yes, I’ll tilt my head that way, because it gives you better access. Yes, I’ll move in closer, because I need to feel you against me. He could ask me anything right now, in the space of this kiss, and my answer would be yes. Followed by please may I have some more.

  I forgot about the snow, freezing my toes inside my boots and icing the skin over my cheeks. I forgot about seeing Jonah for the first time in over a year, and the hook up we’d clearly interrupted. I forgot about the miserable time I’d been having. I forgot that I didn’t know this man at all. There was nothing but Alex and his clever mouth, the heat we generated and the loose, languid desire coursing through my blood.

  His lips grazed my cheekbones, first one then the other, before coming to rest against my forehead. He took a small step back, his exhalation shaky, and it was gratifying to know I wasn’t the only one with wobbly knees.

  All from a single kiss.

  “Wow.”

  Wow was the wrong word for that. Incredible, stunning, fantastic. His reaction gave me the courage I needed, and I stretched up and brushed my mouth over his. I went back again, and again, sinking in a little deeper each time. Our mouths fit together and moved like we were the missing half of the other, each minute change anticipated and integrated into the whole. Noses bumping, tongues stroking, he tasted spicy and a little sweet.

  He broke the kiss, tongue flicking out over my lips. “You taste like chocolate,” he murmured hoarsely. “Trying to tempt me, Hannah?”

  I tipped my head back, wishing I could smile and too shaken to do so. “Do you want to be tempted?”

  His dark eyes searched mine. “If you have to ask, I’m doing something wrong.” Again the dead serious look, and this time, it shook me almost as much as the kiss had.

  I didn’t believe in soul mates. I didn’t believe in love at first sight. But it was hard to deny this instant, almost elemental connection. It was more than lust. If it was only desire, only heat and sweat and sweet caresses in the dark, there wouldn’t be any shaking going on. There would be no caring in his kiss, no urgent need to find out not only what he was hiding under his clothes, but what his deepest secrets were.

  Here, in the snow, in the cold, I wanted to know everything about him, and I wanted it now.

  “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t done yet?” I asked impulsively.

  He blinked away the snowflakes settling on his lashes. “Hum.” His mouth thinned as he thought, and his arms tightened around me, bringing me in under his chin. “Drive the Autobahn. I’d get myself a Beemer and just open her up, see how fast and far I could go.” His arms shifted so one was across my back, holding in more heat. “You?”

  “Dance in the snow.” The romantic in me, buried under years of Jonah never quite figuring out what I wanted, longed for silly gestures. To be fair, he’d tried, and sometimes he’d succeed. I never asked for flowers, but he brought them by at odd times. Or when I mentioned I was out of my favorite hot cocoa mix and couldn’t find it at any of the nearby grocery stores, he showed up with an entire packing box of it. But those were rare occasions. I always wanted more, and I didn’t want to content myself with the crumbs I was tossed.

  A car rolled past, tires silent on the snow, and we eased apart. “Dancing? You’ll have to explain this one to me. Not here,” he added, pressing a gloved finger to my lips. “In my car. Where there’s a heater.”

  Hands in pockets, we headed up the block to the club, skirting around the side to the lot in the back, picking our way around newly formed snowdrifts. The flakes were starting to thin out, though, and the plows would probably come out soon.

  We climbed into Alex’s car, and my feet thanked me profusely. I’d gotten out of the habit of standing around for long periods of time in heels since I started working from home, and my feet were reminding me of that fact.

  He turned the heaters on full blast, the sound loud over the rumble of the engine. “So. Snow dancing? Is that like a rain dance?”

  Heat washed over my cheeks. “No.” I kept my eyes on my lap. “I just…always thought it would be r
omantic, slow dancing in the snow, with the snowflakes. All that quiet, all that white.” I darted a glance at him, heart thudding with anticipation. “Silly, because you’d be freezing, and no one thinks romance when they’re cold.”

  “True,” he said, and disappointment trickled in. It was silly. I also hoped that maybe I’d get to cross it off my list tonight. It seemed so little to ask. But it was below freezing outside, and he probably wanted to get home in case the roads got worse, not better.

  He put the car in gear. “Address?”

  I gave it to him, and stared out the window. A number of businesses had decorated for Valentine’s Day, red and white garlands draped over entryways, hearts dotting windows. It had seemed so garish, earlier. It still did, but my heart squeezed at the sight of it, just the same.

  I’d had a better evening than I thought possible. There’d been fun, intelligent conversation with someone who wasn’t a client, a friend, or a family member. There’d been laughter and a heady, sensuous promise of more. There’d been kisses. Actual kisses. Kisses that made me tremble. Kisses that reminded me I’d come a hell of a long way from the sad, withdrawn mess I’d been a year ago.

  I directed him to the lot behind my building, and he parked in one of the two visitor spots. On the other side of the lot was a small park, complete with gazebo, and some enterprising soul had strung up fairy lights. I climbed out and studied the scene. Sweet. Sweet and sweetly romantic, the snow giving it a wonderland quality.

  Alex came around the car and stood next to me, following my gaze. He looked down at me and grinned, then took my hand. “Come on.”

  We crossed the few feet to the path, and I was careful to place my feet in the imprints left behind. The gazebo steps creaked under our weight, and he paused in the center, the fairy lights glinting off the snow. “Not freezing yet, are you?”

  My heart thudded once, twice, then stuttered. “No,” I breathed.

  Then I had to blink back tears as he pulled me into his arms and began to sway. No. No, nuh-uh, no way. I rested my head against his shoulder, unsure if this was real. The rough fabric tickled my cheek. I shut my eyes. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall splat right in front of him and beg him to be mine. I needed to get a grip. Badly.