Love Happens Page 7

  Next time? This marriage, the divorce, the reasons aren’t clear to me. She never explained the entire story, but if she’s moving on, I’ll do too. “I don’t want to sound insensitive, but your receptionist—”

  Her eyes start changing, into an easy gaze. The heaviness lifting with a smirk. “I was hoping you’d go with her and invite her to lunch.”

  “Why?”

  “She could use a guy like you,” Hazel enlightens me but not as much as I wish. She is now smiling at me as she rubs her chin. “You’re one of the good guys.”

  I give her a dazed look, picking up the folder. “Are you playing cupid with Willow and me?” She bobs her head. “After what happened to you?”

  From all the divorces I’ve handled, this is the strangest of them all. There’re no bitter, hateful words slammed from either party. The anger is either hidden, or it dissipated long ago. She set aside the pain and is ready to set me up with the cute girl who works for her.

  “It didn’t work for me, that doesn’t mean that love isn’t real.” She scrunches her nose, rising from her seat. Her finger swirling around the room, the way she always does. “There was an energy around when you arrived. Something might happen between the two of you—if you’re smart, and treat her the way she deserves.”

  She’s right. The sparks I felt the night I met Willow when she handed me the money. That need to protect her that grew inside of me when I notice those tears. “Love at first sight?” Hazel is crazy. That must be what happened. Maybe she met this man on her birthday, married two days later and never saw him again. Is it wise to trust in a sudden spark? “How can you believe in it?”

  “When two people are meant to be together, things just work out that way. I still believe in love.” Her eyes fill with moisture. “I believe in deep kisses, and unpredicted adventures. I believe in the impossible, and that the best rewards come after you worked hard to obtain them. Willow needs to experience them.”

  The sudden excitement in her words has me thinking about facing everything she mentions and more—with Willow.

  “Would you help me?” I ask, feeling as if she has the key to open Willow’s heart.

  She shakes her head, laughing. “Nope. Your first and only tip is: work your way around her walls. My sister isn’t easy.”

  “Sister?” The sound of the elevator announcing its arrival stops me from asking or saying anything else.

  “I don’t think sugar is the answer to your mood, bee,” Willow says, placing a salad on top of the desk. Studying both, I see the similarities. The button nose, above a delicately formed mouth, big round eyes. Willow’s are a perfect spring sky that contrasted with her dark, long hair. “I brought you something healthier.”

  “You’re right,” Hazel acknowledges, checking her watch. “I’m not even hungry, and I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

  With that, she disappears behind the sliding doors.

  “It’s worse than I thought.” Willow huffs, turning her attention to me. “You, you made her laugh. Maybe you can invite her out and show her that not all men are assholes.”

  I laugh, not believing what I just heard. The perfect opening to invite her out on a date. Extra points to her for believing I’m not an asshole. “I’m your man. What do you want me to do?”

  Willow frowns, staring at me. “Pick me up tonight at six. You might be what she needs.”

  “It’s a date,” I wink at her turning around and calling the elevator.

  Hunter

  “How did you decide you wanted to be an actress?” Willow agreed to have dinner with me at a hole in the wall in Brooklyn.

  “I loved dressing up, singing, becoming someone entirely different for a few hours.” Her eyes are shining as she continues telling me about her nanny. A woman who lived next door had eight children of her own, and made extra money by caring for Willow and Hazel. “She has a vibrant personality that kept us occupied. She came with different ideas. Like playing hand puppets, dancing along musicals. I fell in love with musicals.”

  We talk about her life after graduating high school. She moved from San Francisco to New York where she studied theater at Julliard. She had to quit because her father couldn’t afford the tuition.

  “My grandfather offered to pay if I studied a sensible career and went to Duke.” She drinks from her beer, laughing. “I should’ve listened to him. At least, I’d have money to support myself.”

  I’m gawking at her as she eats her pizza. Thinking about that mouth and the things I could do to it. I want to taste all of her. I imagine her tasting like a little piece of paradise since she smells like white, sandy beaches—coconut mixed with pineapple and a hint of honey.

  “How are you planning on sweeping Hazel off her feet?” The images of Willow laying on the sand wearing nothing but a black bikini and a broad smile washes away. “She can be your next long-term relationship. She likes those too.”

  “Are you sure you want to talk about your sister?” Willow’s eyes grow bigger, her face turns slightly red.

  Analyzing her previous words, I retort, “how do you know I like long-term relationships?”

  “Before leaving work, she told me,” Willow smiles, the tips of her lips aren’t reaching high enough. “Unlike me, she likes stability.”

  Think fast; this is useful information, Hunter. “Must be an older sibling thing,” I point out casually, searching for common ground. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-six, almost twenty-seven.” She stares at me, waiting for something but I stare back. We can do this all night. I have three older brothers, and I can stay quiet for eons without blinking. “That’s right; you’re a monogamist. Dating girls who are always using you.”

  “Who do you date?” I dare her, trying to find that soft spot to penetrate the wall.

  “No one, two years without a single date—or a man at all.” Her face illuminates, proud of her accomplishment and everything that it might entitle inside her head. Well, this is going to be a hard case to crack. “I’m focused on my work. Well you know, the few auditions I get and the roles I land if I do my job right.”

  “Do you like being alone?” because I don’t. I swallow, thinking if accepting it makes me weak or different.

  Harrison, my oldest brother and the one who doesn’t mock me as often, says we’re all different. That if Mom was alive, she’d be proud of the man I became. Proud of the way I treat women even when I choose women poorly. I think he understands my eccentricities better than Scott or Fitz. We both have obsessions many can’t grasp or know that they exist. I try to hide mine as much as possible. Clutching onto an idea, and picking a woman isn’t healthy when I only find the wrong ones. Still, I won’t stop until I find the right one. I saw my parents happy with each other, loving every second they spent together. They left this world together.

  “I’ve been alone for years.” She smiles. “In charge of my sister since she was a toddler. It’s a long story that I’d prefer not to explain.”

  Hazel and I’ve been friends since I began working at the firm along with Fitz, my brother. She’s mentioned her parents which means, they aren’t dead, like mine. “Your parents?”

  “They’re missionaries. They’ve been traveling the world since I was a kid.” There’s no pride in her voice. Actually, there’s some resentment linked into that statement. “The point is, I don’t understand how you could be expecting so much from another person. Company, loyalty, love.”

  Her words are daggers sent to whoever wants to climb the wall. A part of me wishes to erase the hurt inside her heart; the other wants to walk away from her. My mind tells me she’s not going to accept or like who I am once she gets to know me. I won’t apologize for any of it. This is who I am and what I like.

  “There’re billions of people. Surely there’s one who will understand you the way you are.” I respond, instead of pushing away the chair, throwing a couple of twenties on the table and leaving her behind. Mom raised me better. “You said it earlier, not every
man is an asshole.”

  “Okay, so I found one, and he’s going to date my sister.” Her mouth snaps shut as her eyes grow two sizes bigger. Her face turns red.

  Embarrassment has never looked this cute and felt so good. My heart accelerates as I repeat her words inside my head.

  “What if he doesn’t want to date your sister?” I hint, then decide to be straight forward. We are not playing games. “Willow, since the moment we crossed paths last week, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I want to get to know you. Learn what you like, why you laugh and how you drink your coffee every morning.”

  Her hands curl around the paper napkin, those blue eyes staring at it. “You don’t want that. I’m nothing special. A bankrupt wannabe with big dreams and nothing to her name.”

  I place a finger on top of her beautiful lips, then slide it gently raising her chin, so our eyes meet. “Please, don’t do that. Think about the time you’re investing into reaching your dream, the sacrifices. You’re worth more than you want to think.”

  I cup her chin with my hand, caressing her cheek with my thumb. She closes her eyes leaning on me for a few breaths. A warmth runs through my veins as I feel her walls lowering. Not breaking but at least I have a second chance to see the beautiful woman behind the iron screen. “Give us a chance to get to know each other. We can push our own boundaries and find what the other is missing.”

  “Are you willing to have a one-night stand?” Willow laughs. The sound is like the siren’s voice hypnotizing me, inviting me to her lair.

  “No,” I respond honestly. That might be everything to us or ruin what we could be. “When I kiss you, I’ll taste glory. It’ll be like entering to heaven. While your departure …”

  I close my eyes as my heart squeezes thinking about my downfall, and how long it might take to recover from another big loss. “ … your departure will be my entry to hell.”

  “A poet?” I shake my head in response to her question. “No wait, you’re a lawyer.”

  “The way you say it sounds closely to thief or overlord of all evils.”

  The waitress chooses to interrupt our conversation, leaving the check on top of the red checker table cloth and smiling at us. I pull my wallet, place two twenties on top of it and rise from my seat, extending my hand toward Willow. “My lady.”

  As she takes it, I entwined our fingers. Walking along with her to the exit, the warm night greets us. The traffic in Brooklyn is lighter, and I can see a few stars in the skyline.

  “You were saying about lawyers?” We walk along the sidewalk, heading to the public parking lot where I left my car.

  She laughs, biting her lip. “I don’t trust businessmen, lawyers or gynecologists.”

  “The first two I might understand, what about the latter?”

  “My ex wanted to become a lady’s doctor.” She huffs, and I’m starting to like that sound between long exhale and snort she makes when things aren’t amusing to her. I side glance at her, finding her rolling those beautiful eyes. “I caught him exploring my best friend’s vagina. He called it practice.”

  Another clue, a cheating asshole claimed her heart. Did he have her heart? Is it available? Why is it that I want to reach for it, and place it right next to me? If only I could talk to someone about this. My brothers would laugh. Even Harrison wouldn’t understand what I’m feeling. Or is it just lust combined with the need for something familiar?

  “You can’t assume the entire male population is that way because of him.”

  “Hazel says I’m a cynic.” She straightens her posture; her eyes concentrate on the sidewalk. “It’s the fear of not being enough. What if I don’t fit the bill and he leaves me?”

  “Letting things go because you’re scared isn’t living,” I suggest. My therapist repeated time and again during my teenage years when I refused to leave the house. “You don’t have to do everything at once, but why don’t you do it one step at a time.”

  “Are you offering assistance?”

  Without stopping, I place her hand on my lips, kissing it twice. “I’m committed to the cause.” I release her hand, wiggling the door knob and pushing the door open. “After you.”

  “If I could, I’d live in Brooklyn. New York is fun but overwhelming.” She continues walking toward my car. A woman after my own heart.

  Move with me to Brooklyn? Shut up, Hunter. That’s what you want to tell her if you want her to run away and never look back. She’ll declare you a sociopath. The term is asocial, and I’ve overcome most of my anxieties. I shove my hand inside my pocket, breathing deeply as I fidget with the piece of fabric Harrison made for me when I was thirteen.

  I unlock the passenger door, taking her hand again, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Can I interest you on a second date?” With my free hand, I clear the strands of dark hair flying around her face.

  “If I were smart, I would say no, but there’s something about you that … I can’t explain it.”

  There’s no need for her to say more, I understand. The pull between us. It’s like the moment we touched our bodies changed at a molecular level and we no longer need oxygen to exist but each other. Bending my head to her level, I find her mouth, kissing her. My tongue moving between her lips begging her for … what do I want? A kiss, for her to let me touch not only her body but her soul. Owning her, surrendering myself to her. Our kiss is deep, unpredictable, long and I want it to last forever.

  Willow

  The door to his room closes and he presses me flat against it. Crushing his mouth against mine and stripping me from the button-down blouse I wore today. My skirt slides down my bare legs after he unzips it from the back. His fingers tap over my back, searching for something. I chuckle, shaking my head as he searches for the fasten to undo my bra. There’s none.

  “What am I doing wrong?” He releases my mouth looking at my lacy bralette. I roll my eyes pulling it over my head.

  I still don’t understand how we went from date my sister, to being almost naked with him in his penthouse. The words he spoke, the warmth of his eyes and his touch. His kiss. Everything had to do with that kiss. It was as deep as the ocean, hot as lava. Hunter surprises me in a good way. I hate surprises, yet I’m here in his room. His penthouse is opulent. It has a bar, pool table, air hockey table, poker table, and some old arcade machines.

  Why am I here? Not for Hazel, but because of Hazel.

  When he asked me where to now, my sister’s words came back to me, “give life a chance, Willow.”

  I asked her why she talked as if she wasn’t she afraid of loving, yet she wasn’t dating. Her response reminded me of when she was little and would keep falling and mounting her surfboard without a drop of fear. She fell once, that wasn’t the end of the world. Her marriage failed, but love wasn’t to blame for the mistakes that caused the rupture. “I’m grieving the loss of my best friend, Willow. He was everything to me since I can remember. We grew up together, did everything together—we confused our friendship with love. For now and until I’m strong enough, I must retrieve into my bubble and heal. Then, I’ll find someone who I can share adventures with while stealing kisses every time I want.”

  For years, I envied her relationship with him. I wanted what they had and feared I would never find it. Two years ago, when it ended, I watched her crumble, shattering from the inside out and becoming a person I didn’t know. I was already weary about relationships but seeing how it all ended between them scared me away from men—until now. Until Hunter. We’ve seen each other only twice, and I’m drawn to him in a way I never thought it’d be possible. My brain tries to remind me of the consequences of love, but my heart isn’t hearing it. It’s leading and pushing its way into a territory I thought I had visited before—but I don’t think I’ve ever been this deep.

  “Are you regretting this?”

  “It’s hard,” I explain, second guessing myself. “What if this isn’t real?”

  He chuckles. “You can’t hide under a bed afraid of the future.�
�� His eyes dart under the bed.

  “Talking from experience?”

  “Yeah, after my parents died I didn’t leave my room for years.” He inhales twice. “They were in the twin towers during nine-eleven.”

  He caresses my face. Kissing my forehead. “I hate changes, surprises and I need to know where my brothers are—even the one who should be off the grid at all times.”

  I frown, not understanding. “My oldest brother is a secret agent. His boss sends me daily updates.” He shrugs. “I cope with social anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder. It sounds contradictory, but I keep the women I date at arm’s length and still, I can’t sleep around with anonymous women.”

  The words, he says, the meaning behind all of it. It isn’t about his phobias but the trust. He’s baring his soul.

  “My parents started traveling around the world when I was eight. They didn’t care if Hazel and I slept at home or had food on our table,” I blurt sharing about my life. “Laila, my mother doesn’t believe in parenting, only helping the poor. For years, I wondered what we did to her and why she didn’t love us.”

  He places his big hand on the back of my neck, kissing my forehead. “I can only promise to learn how to love you, hoping you’ll fall for me along the journey.” He feathers kisses along my jaw and my nose. “From now on, I want us to forget our worries, leave behind our fears.”

  “And what’s next?”

  “I don’t know. This is how we met, Willow. The moment we start falling in love,” he kisses me with urgency, penetrating my mind, my heart and my soul as if trying to claim them.

  After a long kiss he places his forehead on top of mine. “Your eyes. They are shining, like a bright flame. As if illuminating the dark sky.” Hunter smiles, his hands warp around my back. “I think I finally found the missing piece of my heart.”

  Claudia grew up with a childhood that resembled a caffeine-injected soap opera. She lives in Colorado, managing her household filled with three confused dogs, a techy-nerd husband, two daughters wrought with fandoms and a son who thinks he’s the boss of the house. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.