Chapter 9: An Illusion Of Happiness, Part 1, Chocolate and Sour Cherry?

Perhaps I'm not being fair to you. You want something you're never going to get from me.

But... You're nice...

... Is 'nice' what I want?

We wander along the beach again, eating cornets, licking away the dripping edges.

"So, what is it you do?" he asks. "For a living, I mean? If you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind at all. I was a pastry chef. I know it's one of those dream jobs for a lot of people, but I hated it. I'm starting a new job in a couple of days."

"Something different?"

"Completely different. I'm being taken on as a concierge in one of the office blocks in the new part of town."

"That's certainly a change. Which offices?"

"The new Haswell Building. You know, the one that went up so quickly after the old headquarters got burned down."

"Nice place," he comments. "My sister-in-law works there. What made you pick that one?"

"It's the sort of thing I enjoy doing. I'll be on their front desk, so I'll be seeing people all the time. And the company has a good reputation for training, and especially for promoting women."

He raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, the sis said something about that too. She's going through their training program as well."

"Really? Well, maybe I'll get to meet her."

We walk in silence a little way further before Ben breaks in again.

"So, are there any more like you at home?" he asks.

"Family, you mean? I've got a sister."

"Yes? Is she much like you?"

"No, we're quite different, both in looks and personality."

"In what way?"

"Mmm, she's small and dainty, not tall like me and... how to put it? I suppose she's a lot more dependent than I am. She seems to feel the need to have someone close all the time."

"She sounds nice."

"She is, but I think it makes her a bit clingy. She seems to go through one boyfriend after another, and they all say she wants too much too soon."

He eyes me longwise. "And that's not you, eh? You don't want too much, too soon?"

*Warning Bells Ringing*

"Er... no. I like my independence."

He's quiet for a bit, but then, "I'd like to be closer to you, you know. Can I see you again?"

"You're seeing me now."

"I mean, properly see you. We could go for a meal, see a movie, go for a picnic. Whatever you like. You say."

Is this a good idea?

I waver...

"Please, Kirstie. I really enjoy being with you. How about this evening? Let's go for a meal; a good restaurant, anywhere you like. You name it."

I feel I should refuse, that I'm not doing right by the straight-forward, ordinary man. But when I try to form the words to refuse, his face crumples.

I let him kiss me...

... and I can't bring myself to do it.

"Alright. You choose somewhere and we'll have the evening together."

*****

The restaurant Ben chooses is beautiful. It's not huge and not overly expensive, but the food is excellent, and he has booked us a niche where we are very private.

Soft music drifts around us, and the staff are lovely; all smiles and courtesy as they bring the food and wine before they vanish discreetly while we eat.

A couple of hours comes and then goes, drifting by in a pleasant mix of chit-chat, good food, and better wine.

As we finish the coffee, Ben says, "Can I walk you home again?"

"Of course you can."

We stroll through the dark streets, the summer air warm and fragrant. Ben slips his fingers into mine and we stroll along, holding hands.

On the doorstep, he hovers and then, without asking, embraces me. Unlike the first time on my doorstep, he does not hold back. His kiss is deep and passionate, one hand knotting into my hair. His pupils are wide, and through his chest, his heart hammers through to mine.

Oh my God. He's in love with me...

This can't be right. It's too soon...

But pussy is calling. I want a man inside me.

He breaks away from the kiss, then simply stands, holding me close, his head resting over mine. "Kirstie..."

Should I do this? Is it fair to him?

Torn as to what is right, and what right now I want, I vacillate.

"Kirstie, can I come in?"

He wants me. He really wants me...

"Yes, you can come in."

He stoops to kiss my cheek. "Thank you."

I unlock the door and then, leading Ben by the hand, take him upstairs to my small apartment.

He glances around. "Nice," he comments. He is smiling, in a way that I have not seen him smile before, some of his grimness washed away by the curve of his lips.

He really should smile more...

"Would you like a coffee?" I ask. "Or a glass of wine?"

"Wine sounds good."

"Make yourself comfortable." I wave towards the settee, but he doesn't sit, instead checking over my cd's. "Mind if I put something on?" he asks.

"Not at all. See what's there that you like. White or red?"

"Red, please."

I fetch a bottle of Rioja and a couple of glasses from the kitchen, returning to the lounge just in time to hear K D Lang's 'Constant Craving' murmuring across the room.

Interesting choice...

I pour the wine, passing a glass to Ben. He sips it politely, but his eyes don't leave mine, and I feel that he is very much tasting the wine simply for the form of it. After a moment or so, he puts his glass to one side, then taking my glass from me, puts that down too.

"I'm not here for wine," he says, and his arms slide around me again at waist and shoulder.

And now, he is not holding back. His palms travel my body; the curve of my spine, along the nape of my neck and into my hair. His kiss is deep, demanding almost. He smells deeply masculine and tastes the same.