A sudden chuckle snapped him out of Dreamland and before he could stop himself, his neck had already snapped up to the sound. All saliva seemed to scram from his mouth as he felt his mouth and throat run dry from the unexpected sight before him.
His gemstone was grinning widely. Since he had met her, he had never seen her lips stretch to such lengths before. Yes, she had smiled at him on their first meeting but the smile had been nothing but microscopic compared to the one currently being displayed on her face.
What really had him dumbstruck were the two dimples that appeared so prominently on her face. Unlike regular dimples found on the cheeks, she had both of hers sitting just a few inches above the corners of her lips; they were pretty close to her on-view cheekbones.
It was quite unique and the dimples made her look even cuter, much younger and carefree which was by the way, a total contrast to how she really was-at least to him she acted so professional, tough and stiff unlike how daintily she was smiling at what whoever she was texting was saying.
Albeit the smile on her face was making her look so innocent, albeit the anodyne smile she wore was everything but deleterious, the effect it had on him was agonising, nocuous and detrimental even as resultantly, he could feel his already persistent erection grow even stronger. His dragon was throbbing vehemently beneath the fabric cage it was held within.
Her seemingly innocent smile was his bane; it was his destruction. Ultimately, he felt his resolve snap when she took the bottom corner of her Cupid’s bow shaped lip into her mouth. He watched her nibble softly on it, putting her perfectly white front teeth in the spotlight of his eyes as she continued grinning.
Hurriedly, he reached for the glass jug of water that was already seated on the splendidly decorated table and poured himself a glass before quickly gulping it down in attempts to lubricate his parched throat which was suddenly dry, seemingly as though he had scouted for a diamond in the rough in the arid region of the Sahara desert.
He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. The temperature in the restaurant was suddenly high, making him sweat internally; he felt hot. Hearing another chuckle, he struggled against his neck which was itching to turn towards her direction.
Tightly gripping his glass as he struggled to get a grip of his self control and to also kill the immense urge to make that mouth of hers serve a much more imperative purpose, he heard her speak.
“Uhm, Mr. Kale?” Her mellifluous voice called.
Somehow managing to stymie his parlous appetencies, he looked up at her, keeping his face void of any expression. He saw that her once joyous expression had vanished into thin air as if it had never even made an appearance.
The never-ending courteous, conscientious and businesslike stance she always had with him had now rested on her shoulders like a plague and for some reason, it irked him. He wanted her to treat him with the same familiarity and intimacy she had with the person she was texting. His jaw clenched.
“Could you perhaps call Mrs Levine? I’ve been trying to text her but she hasn’t been replying,” she inquired politely as she took a glance at her phone.
“Sure,” he replied gruffly before whipping out his phone to call his sister. He was well aware of her intentions; he knew that this was some blind date set up by his sister the moment he saw the backside of the woman responsible for countless of his recent wet dreams and boners. But for the satisfaction of the woman seated before him, he would call her.
“Carol,” he immediately spoke, his voice indifferent as he didn’t wait for her to exchange any pleasantry.
“Where are you?” he went straight to the point.
“J!” Carol exclaimed, feigning surprise as she stirred the bubbling tomato sauce for the spicy Italian spaghetti meatballs dish she was making.
She knew that he was bound to call any time soon. She had already seen and ignored Emerald’s texts asking where she was and if something had happened.
“I’m so sorry but I don’t think I can make the dinner anymore. Leo fell sick all of a sudden and I had to stay back to take care of him,” she lied with a smirk on her face and just then, the supposedly ‘sick’ Leonardo, her husband decided to make an appearance.
“Who’s sick?” the tall and handsome Italian doctor asked as he walked into the kitchen to find his wife when he had overheard her saying someone was sick.
In panic of her lie being discovered by her overly inquisitive brother, her eyes widened as she hurriedly turned down the heat from the cooker before she made her way to her husband and held his lips with her fingers while slightly shaking her head. Leo could only raise his eyebrows in surprise at her actions.
“Hmm. . . Sick. I see,” she heard Jordan mumble over the phone, his tone was laced with disbelief. She knew she couldn’t escape his eagle eyes, so instead, she decided to play the truth card.
“Fine. You caught me,” she rolled her eyes but the mischievous smirk was back on her face. “But I’m doing this for your sake. I know you’re attracted to her, J. You can’t deny that fact.”
A moment of silence followed after, confirming her words. This action made Carol grin knowingly, her action causing her husband’s already high eyebrows to skyrocket across his forehead.
“How-” he cleared his throat. “No, that’s not true. You’re only making assumptions. I don’t know what’s feeding your mind such nonsense,” he countered.
Carol knew he would deny it. She knew he wouldn’t want to give in to it. She had been very sure he would recoil but still, she had to let him know what he was getting into. She could only hope that Emerald would penetrate his frigid walls.
“Don’t lie to yourself, J. You, better than anyone, know that what you feel for her is more than the desire to have a quick fuck and leave,” she blushed at her use of the explicit word. Peeking up at her husband from beneath her eyelashes, she found him smirking at her, his eyes gleaming roguishly.
She cleared her throat, “You know very well what I’m talking about. Now, let’s not waste each other’s time. I wouldn’t want you to keep the gorgeous damsel waiting. Bye, J!” she rushed out, attempting to hang up before stopping abruptly to leave some parting words.
“And J. . .?” he grunted in reply.
“Try to enjoy what you feel. Don’t shun it. Neither try to kill it nor avoid it. Acknowledge it, Jordan. I guarantee you won’t regret it,” she looked into the depths of her husband’s eyes as she spoke those words to her brother.
The attraction her brother had towards her therapist and friend was just the beginning of something much bigger; Carol could tell. She knew that something was surely springing up between those two but that thing could only flourish if they both would allow it and give into it. Only if the both of them wouldn’t be too adamant to concede.
The feeling her brother had wasn’t strange to her; it was all too familiar. If her theory turns out to be accurate, then surely, her brother’s feelings would eventually grow into something bigger. It would eventually grow into what she currently felt for the man standing before her.
The same attraction had started with her in the middle stage of their marriage. It had been morphed from the initial feelings of nothing but detest. If she had been told earlier that the man she used to wish dead would be the one she now called the love of her life, she probably would’ve laughed her head off like a deranged monkey.
But, here she was. With the love of her life. She loved the man with all of her being and she wouldn’t hesitate to express it wholeheartedly and there wasn’t an ounce of regret anywhere.
Still staring at her husband with so much love welling up uncontrollably in her chest, she hung up and pulled her husband to herself, capturing his lips in a much needed kiss.
They poured their immense love for each other into the slow and passionate kiss before pulling away after long moments of oxygen neglect. Leo continued with his delicious torment. He left trails of sweet kisses along her jawline down to her neck before moving to nibble on her earlobe, eliciting a barely suppressed moan from her.
“You smell delicious,” he whispered huskily against her ear, still continuing his sweet torture.
“Nardo. . .” she almost whined when he pulled away, making him grin at the sight of the irrepressible desire in his wife’s eyes.
“Now, now. . . I couldn’t help but hear your use of a rather vulgar word earlier,” he teased, his grin growing even wider when he saw the tomato paste shade of red that crept up his wife’s neck and spread towards her cheeks. Her previous look of lust was nowhere to be found.
With wide eyes, she fake gasped and snapped her fingers, pretending to have just remembered something important. “The spaghetti sauce!” she exclaimed and ran back towards the cooker, leaving her guffawing husband behind.
“Well? What did she say?” Emerald asked the suddenly quiet man before her. He had gone eerily silent since he had dropped the call. Yes, he wasn’t much of a talker but something felt off. It was like he had something on his mind.
On hearing Emerald speak, Jordan looked away from the table where his eyes had latched onto since the end of his call with Carol. He looked up at the woman before him, at the one who continued to fill his thoughts both consciously and unconsciously without even lifting her finger.
She raised a questioning gaze at him. That was the only expression her face held-inquiry, nothing more.
“She’s not coming,” he answered vaguely.
“Oh? Why? Is there a problem?” she queried further.
“Fernandez fell sick.” His response was brusque again.
“Fernandez?” Confusion now played across her face as she questioned again. Jordan ought to be annoyed at her incessant questions, hell, if it were anyone else, they would literally be moping the floors for the devil by now but for some reason, he liked how he was able to invoke an emotion in her. It wasn’t something intense but at least, it was better than her usual impassiveness.
“Mhm. . .” he nodded, “Leonardo.”
He watched as her eyebrows furrowed, a sign that she was trying to recall something but much to his disappointment, in less than a second, realisation flitted across her face before the usual stoicism rested on her again.
“You mean her husband,” she stated more than asking.
Only a grunt came as his reply. He still couldn’t bring himself to accept that his sister was married to Fernandez. He didn’t want to believe it even though it was in fact, the truth.
“So, now what? Do you want to leave?” he deadpanned. For some reason unknown to him, the thought of her wanting to leave left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted her company; he craved it.
‘Maybe, just maybe. . . Carol’s assumptions weren’t mere assumptions?’
Before Emerald could answer, a sound came from her phone. It was a message from Oriana.
‘Double flush and I are heading out. I hope you’re with your keycard.”
Sending her a quick ‘I am’, she was about to tuck her phone away when she stopped to really think about Jordan’s question.
Did she want to go home? Yes, she did. The thought of arriving at her house to find it void of the usual pesky flies in her life even if it were just for a few hours, she would really like the solitude.
She could whip us some of her mother’s signature guac and enjoy it with a bag of Lay’s. She could catch up on her novel and most importantly, she could revel in the moments of quietude that was surely much needed after all of Logan and Oriana’s recent capers but something was oddly seeming to be more intriguing than all of these plans of hers put together.
Something that on a norm wouldn’t be even close to being appealing to her at all but right now, the thought of doing that thing seemed way, way better than going home to an empty abode.
And that something was staying with Jordan. She could just say no and leave immediately but she didn’t want to. She wanted to give this dinner-turned-date a try. So, that was what she did.
Looking up from her phone and at the man who was still awaiting her reply, she spoke,
“Might as well order something.”