The Valentine Effect Page 7

Carrie paused, searching for words that sounded sincere, not too effusive, and would neither lead him on nor turn him off. What did she really want to convey? That it had been one of the best nights of her life—truth. But she didn’t know if they should be involved beyond this one night—truth. And why was that again? She’d just experienced the most passionate sex of her life. Ric was funny, sweet, charming, a hard worker, a devoted father. If he was interested in continuing to see her, why in the hell would she even consider saying no?

  Her gaze focused on the abandoned Game Boy on the living room floor, and her question was answered. It really had more to do with Nando than anything else. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready to take on the baggage that came with a single parent. She felt guilty even thinking it, but had to admit the truth to herself.

  And even if she was strong enough to deal, was she equipped to fill in for someone as wonderful and perfect as Angelina Torres had been?

  “I’ve never had a boyfriend for longer than a month or two. Getting involved with someone with a kid would be a big mistake. Somebody would end up hurt,” she whispered aloud as though trying to convince herself.

  But inside her mind, a silent voice whispered, “You’re just scared. That’s why you never commit to anything, loser. And there’s not even a good reason for it—no emotional issues in your family, a stable two-parent home that’s no more dysfunctional than anyone else’s. Why the hell are you so afraid of life?”

  Carrie wadded up the paper towel and started again on a new sheet. “Ric, thank you for everything. It was wonderful. You were the best Valentine’s Day surprise ever. Carrie.” She stared at the brief message. There. She hadn’t suggested he call her and the omission of her phone number would send a subtle message.

  Placing the note on the kitchen counter by the coffeemaker where he’d be certain to see it, she took a last glance around. She pictured him eating frosting from her pussy just over there, and banging her up against the side of the fridge. How would they have looked to someone watching? Hot, hungry, desperate—passion personified? A shiver of lust ran through her, and she turned to leave the room.

  Outside, the light was pearly gray and slightly pink on the eastern horizon. Only a couple of hours and she’d be showered, dressed, and facing a room full of eight-year-olds all clamoring for her attention. There’d be no time to think or second-guess herself then.

  And after today? Well, she’d just see what happened. See if Ric tried to contact her. See if she could keep herself from calling him. Time would tell if there’d be messy fallout from this night of passion or if it would fade into a memory of one unforgettable night.

  Chapter Nine

  Carrie sat at her desk, a pile of ungraded papers lying before her, and stared out the windows at the leaden, gray sky. There were no red hearts and cupids blocking her view today. The windows were stripped bare and clean, revealing the tops of trees, the peaks of roofs in the nearby neighborhood, and the permanently dark sky.

  The weather had been exactly the same for days.

  Friday: overcast, bleak and boring. Exhausted from the previous night’s adventures, she’d nodded off at her desk a couple of times during the day and went straight to bed after school, sleeping the night through. Oblivion was good. She didn’t think about Ric.

  Saturday: overcast, bleak and boring. After cleaning her apartment and doing laundry, she’d met her sister for lunch and a movie, then spent the evening alone, imagining that the phone might ring. If Ric was really interested, he’d find a way to contact her.

  Sunday: overcast, bleak and boring. She watched a lot of TV and read a long, dreary novel she’d been putting off. Several times she’d picked up her phone, stared at Ric’s name on the list of parents’ numbers, then set the phone down again. He, too, had probably had second thoughts about their ill-advised date, and was glad to leave it at a one-nighter.

  Monday: overcast, bleak and boring. Another school day. She’d stripped the windows bare and wiped them down, because she knew the janitor would never get to it. There would be Valentine-shaped smudge-marks on her windows until she put up the Easter stick-ons if she didn’t clean them.

  The kids were as listless with mid-winter doldrums as she was. Her gaze kept returning to Nando, assessing the similarities and differences between the child and his father.

  Tuesday: overcast, bleak and boring. She felt like she was drugged as she sat at her desk, elbows propped on the ungraded papers, and stared out the window. Was the rest of her life going to be permanent winter? She didn’t think she could take any more lightless days and long, dark nights.

  I’m being childish. I should just call him and ask him out again. Why am I waiting for him to contact me first? He won’t do it. Not after what I said.

  Her exact words had been, “I didn’t want to spend the holiday alone, and then you walked in. I got swept up in the moment.” Could she have sounded any more dismissive? What an idiot!

  The ball was in her court. She needed to make the next move, if there was a move to be made. She needed to pursue Ric and show him she’d thought about it and was willing to take a chance. That is, if she really was willing. What did she honestly want?

  Forecast for Wednesday, Thursday, Friday: overcast, bleak and, oh yes, boring!

  Hell yeah, she was ready! She would call him after school today. Even if he gave her a brush-off, since she was no substitute for his wonderful, dead wife, at least it would be resolved.

  From the corner of her eye, Carrie noticed a hand waving. The kids were working in small groups today and doing a pretty good job of staying quiet and focused on the assignment. She turned toward the upraised hand. It was Nando. His brow was furrowed in a frown reminiscent of Ric’s and he held something clutched in one hand.

  She nodded and beckoned him to come to her desk.

  The boy practically leaped from his seat and trotted toward her.

  “Ms. Morrison. I forgot to give you this. It’s from my dad. I was supposed to give it to you yesterday.” He placed a large white envelope on her desk. It was the worse for having spent time in his backpack, crumpled at the corners and decorated with ink stains. “Ms. Morrison” was written on the front in erratic, jagged cursive.

  Her heart beat faster as she picked it up, and gazed at her scrawled name.

  “Don’t tell my dad I didn’t give it to you until today. He said it’s important and not to forget, but…I forgot.”

  She met his worried eyes and smiled. “It’s all right. I have it now. Thank you.”

  Off the hook, he smiled and returned to his desk.

  Her hands were actually trembling as she ripped open the envelope and pulled out the contents. The students could have jumped up from their desks and started a mutiny and she wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

  She smiled as she gazed at the big, red, flocked heart on the cover of the card. It was gaudy and cheesy and huge. The words “Thinking of you” were embossed across it in gold. Inside was the rest of the message, “And hoping you’ll be my Valentine.” A sheet of notebook paper folded into quarters fell out when she opened the card.

  Written across from the card’s message was a personal note scrawled in Ric’s pointed handwriting.

  “I wanted to call you right away, but you’re right. This isn’t something to jump into lightly. I thought hard about it over the weekend and everything I want to say to you is in the enclosed note. Hope it convinces you to give me a chance.”

  She unfolded the piece of paper and smoothed out the creases. The note was formatted the way she’d taught her students to set up their papers for class. Name, subject, assignment and date in the right hand corner. Enrique Torres, English Essay, February 17. Centered in the middle was the title: Why I Should Date My Son’s Teacher.

  Carrie laughed aloud. As she read the essay, she noted the similarities to Nando’s paper comparing cats and dogs and arguing in favor of getting a dog. She was sure it was an intentional echo. Perhaps Ric was hoping for a smiley face, as
well.

  “Dating Carrie Morrison would be good because she has the softest lips and I really enjoy kissing them. She’s easy to talk to, and even though she doesn’t relate to the Stooges, has a great sense of humor. I’m comfortable around her. And incredibly horny.

  Her skin is almost translucent it’s so pale and perfect. Her long, brown hair is as soft as flower petals and sticks up in amusing ways. Her eyes are huge and the most delicate shade of blue. I could look into them for a long time and not get bored.

  The way she tastes and feels and looks during sex is incredible. I definitely need to experience more of that. And I think I could even learn to enjoy ballet if she wanted to take advantage of the tickets I’ve purchased and go with me to A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Bushnell in March.

  Seriously, Carrie, I’m ready to try this if you are. I’m tired of mourning and want to move on. Call me, please?”

  It was signed “Ric” not “Love, Ric,” and she appreciated that detail. He wasn’t pressuring her, just telling her how he felt. Her heart responded with a sharp twist. No one had ever sent her anything so sweet in her life. The man was absolutely adorable, and gorgeous, and sexy, and wanted her. There was nothing else to consider. She was going for it. Today! This very afternoon. As soon as she finished work, she’d drive over to his garage and see him.

  After reading the essay again, she folded it and placed it back in the card and the card in the envelope. She looked across the room at Nando talking to Alyssa, making big gestures with his hands as he explained something to her.

  I may be seeing a lot more of you, little guy. She imagined taking him places, the zoo, bowling, the park, and wondered how he’d adjust to her spending time with his dad. Would it piss him off and make him act out in class or would he be pleased and proud that his teacher was dating daddy? She guessed the latter, but it was impossible to say. He might very well resent her edging into the space reserved for his mother’s memory.

  Only time would tell. But the forecast was suddenly looking better. Tuesday: chance of sunshine and a break in the clouds.

  Chapter Ten

  Carrie found Osborne’s Garage with no trouble and parked on a side street nearby. She shouldered her purse and walked down the sidewalk and through the parking lot packed with ill automobiles toward the old building. There was a small office area on the right and three overhead doors marking the bays in the garage area on the left.

  Since the sun actually had broken through the clouds and the afternoon was fairly balmy for February, the garage doors were open. A clang of metal and the whirr of a pneumatic wrench sounded against the backdrop of Top 40 rock played on a crappy radio. Men’s voices echoed in the cavernous garage. In the center bay, a white sedan was raised on a hoist and a man in a blue coverall worked underneath it.

  In the bay on the right was a charcoal-gray BMW. A pair of men stood talking in front of the vehicle, their backs to her; a gray-haired man in a suit and Ric, dressed in a navy blue work shirt and pants. His arms were folded over his chest and he nodded at whatever the car’s owner was telling him.

  Carrie slowed and paused before reaching the doorway, suddenly feeling shy and stupid. What had made her think showing up at his work was a good idea? The man was busy. She should have called him.

  Ric laughed aloud as the other man wrapped up his story. The warm chuckle ignited a fire in Carrie like a match to kindling. The erotic memories she’d done her damnedest to suppress over the past few days flared up. She remembered the exact feeling of his rough hands gliding over her body, his soft lips enveloping hers in a kiss, his warm tongue lapping at her pussy. Her nipples hardened and her crotch tightened in instant response to the sound of his voice floating to her across the space between them.

  “Did you tell him that?” he asked the other man, and for Carrie he might as well have been talking to her, saying “Open wide for me, baby.” Her sex released wetly.

  “Oh, you’d better believe it.” The man in the suit was laughing, too. “Several times.”

  Just then Ric must have caught her movement from the corner of his eyes. He turned his head toward her and his eyes widened. “Carrie!”

  “Hey.” She moved a few yards closer, walking from the weak winter sunshine into the shadow of the garage. “I’m sorry. I should have called. You’re working.”

  “No! I mean, we’re done here.” He glanced at his customer for confirmation, then back at Carrie again. “I’m all yours.”

  The gray-haired man smiled as he looked back and forth between them. “Call me when it’s ready.”

  He shook Ric’s hand then turned and walked past Carrie, winking at her. “You heard the man. He’s all yours.”

  “Sorry,” she apologized again after the man had rounded the corner. She moved farther into the garage. “Of course you’re busy. We can talk later.”

  The last word was barely out of her mouth when he strode to her and pulled her into his arms, cutting off any further apologies with a kiss.

  “Mmph!” She made a muffled exclamation of surprise, and then held on to the front of his shirt for dear life as he kissed her hard and lifted her half off her feet. His lips were soft, but his mouth demanding as he teased her lips open with his tongue and swept it inside. She met him with equal fervor, swirling her tongue around his in a sweet dance. So wet and hot. How could I have imagined doing without this?

  She slid her hands around his neck and up into the back of his hair. It was so curly and soft threaded between her fingers, and the back of his neck was strong and warm. Pressed tight against his hard torso with his arms wrapped around her, her body yearned for more.

  When he finally released her mouth and set her back down on her feet, she was breathless and dizzy. Through her haze of lust, she heard clapping and whistling echoing through the garage. She glanced past Ric’s arm and saw the coverall-clad man and another guy in a mechanic’s uniform laughing and applauding.

  “All right, you guys. Go take a smoke break or something,” Ric growled, glaring at them.

  “No way. This is like witnessing a fuckin’ miracle. I’m not missing it,” the man in coveralls said, but he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and walked with his co-worker from the garage.

  “Sorry about that.” Ric nodded after them. “They’re easily entertained.”

  Carrie smiled. Actually she was already smiling and grinned even wider. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face if she tried.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so glad you came.” He continued to hold her loosely, hands resting on the curve of her lower back, dark gaze intently focused on her eyes. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. That goofy card and essay! God, what was I thinking?”

  “It was wonderful. I loved it! I didn’t see it until this afternoon. Nando forgot it in his backpack. Don’t tell him I told you. But even if I hadn’t read it, I was planning to call you. I couldn’t wait any more.”

  “Wait?” He repeated with a frown. “You were waiting for me to call? I didn’t think you wanted me to. It didn’t seem like you did, and I needed to do some thinking so I waited through the weekend. But if I’d known you were waiting…”

  “No. I didn’t expect you to call,” she reassured him. “I did my own share of thinking over the last few days. By this afternoon I decided my whole attitude was stupid, and I definitely wanted to keep seeing you. I mean, I do.”

  She slid her hands up to his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his torso beneath his shirt. “Your message just sealed it. That was the sweetest thing I ever read.”

  The dimple deepened and he dropped his gaze to the floor. He shrugged. “Well, I meant it, even if it was corny.”

  She slapped his chest. “Don’t! It wasn’t corny at all.” Rising up on her toes, she wrapped her hands around his neck again and pulled him down for another kiss.

  His hands roamed up and down her back as though eager to touch her everywhere at once. Finally they settled on her ass, gri
pping it and pulling her already-close body even closer.

  Releasing her lips, he murmured, “Oh, baby, feel what you’re doing to me?”

  She did. His erection pressed against her front from pubis to belly button, hard as steel rebar in his pants.

  He cupped her face and rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes from up close. “I was thinking we should start again and take it easier this time. You know, maybe have a few casual dates, get to know each other better before we get physical again, but, uh…I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Nuh-uh,” she agreed, breathlessly. “Waiting is way overrated.”

  “Hell, I’d like to lay you down on the hood of this car and do you right here and now,” he whispered.

  The words sent a thrill of lust through her as she imagined what that would be like—wild, abandoned sex in a public place, the slick, shiny metal of the car under her ass and back, Ric’s heat and firm muscles pressed into her front.

  She shivered. “What’s stopping you?”

  Laughing, he pulled back and brushed her hair away from her face. “Well, those two guys you saw for one thing, and the fact that I don’t have any protection along. I didn’t imagine I’d need it today.”

  “Luckily, I did.” Carrie extricated herself from his arms and retrieved the purse she’d dropped on the ground when he swept her off her feet. She opened it to show him the handful of condoms she’d tucked inside. “I stocked up, just in case.”

  Ric laughed again, his teeth flashing and the dimple cutting a groove in his cheek. “Just in case of garage-sex?”

  “Or public-restroom-sex.”

  “No. You’re not going to want to do that here, trust me. My employees’ hygiene is…questionable. However, I do have a little cubbyhole of an office right over there.” He gestured to a door in the far corner of the garage.

  “I’d like to check that out.” She grinned wider than ever, floating like she was on drugs. Everything was wonderful, funny, joyous, perfect. Her heart expanded larger and larger until it seemed it would explode in her chest. She was afraid she might suddenly start crying, she was so elated and emotional.