Page 35 of Feels Like the First Time
Oh my God.Ali froze. And so did her lungs. It was like one of those movies where the heroine was transported into somebody else’s incredible life. Only this was Ali’s life, and the moment was pretty incredible. “You brought me shoes?”
“Not just any shoes,” he said and Ali had to agree.
They were sexy, slinky, and sleek, with enough angles to be considered edgy without being mistaken for harsh. They were feminine and classy, and yet somehow still her.
“These have the power to make a woman strut and a man stumble at her feet with a single step.” He knelt down on one knee and gently took her bare foot, caressing her ankle in his sure, capable hands. “When I saw them in the window, I thought of you.”
“They’re silver,” Ali said breathlessly. She never considered herself a silver girl. Black, yes, steel-toed, absolutely. But slinky, sexy, and silver? Never.
The way Hawk was looking at her foot as he slid the heel on, gently fastening the strap around her ankle, said he disagreed.
“They match your dress perfectly,” he said, and she looked down at her drab black dress. “Not that dress, sunshine. The green one that makes you look like an angel.”
She gave a self-conscious flap of the hand. “It’s a little too much since we’re going to be working the bar all night.”
Hawk looked up at her and, with his hand still on her ankle, said, “Oh, I’m not working tonight, Luke took my shift. I’m on the guest list and I’m bringing the prettiest girl in town as my date.”
***
“I need a drink,” Ali said, desperate to get away from the prying eyes.
“How about one of the signature cocktails,” Gail suggested, as someone walked by with a tray of martini glasses rimmed with pink sugar. “They’re fantastic. So elegant and swanky. The perfect statement for Bridget’s wedding.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ali said with a big smile. “Which was why I was going to grab something from the bar. Something that doesn’t come in a sugar-rimmed glass or from a bottle with bubbles.”
Okay, that was a lie. At this point anything that could get her three sheets to the wind would work. But she wanted to hide behind the bar, like a big fat chicken. She was surprised she hadn’t sprouted wings.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to happen tonight, but the strange fluttering in her belly was starting to give her concern. She’d prepared herself ahead of time, was ready for the fauxmance to continue, and then Hawk had to go and do something sweet, like make her feel girly, and muck everything up.
Even worse, the entire time he’d been right there for her, making her feel as if she had a partner to get her through tonight. Instead of focusing on the fact that this was his ex’s engagement party, which most people would, he’d focused all of that intense concern and care on her. Offering a comforting hand on her back when she welcomed her mom, steering Marty away from the dessert table and toward the veggie trays, even stepping behind the bar when Bridget complained that the signature cocktail was too sweet.
Never once had he complained. And that made it so much worse.
Ali knew how to deal with friend Hawk, knew how to handle tough situations, like her demanding family or Hawk’s undivided attention, when wearing her steel-toed boots. But in this dress and these heels she felt soft, delicate.
Vulnerable.
And then he’d squeezed her hand and said he’d be right back, asked if she’d be okay alone while he grabbed something from the storage pantry. And her heart had fluttered. So had her lady land. A sure sign that it had been too long since she’d had an orgasm with someone else in the room.
“Be careful not to get red wine,” Gail said, and Ali held tight to her smile, even though she knew what was coming. “The stains are impossible to remove and would stand out like lint on Velcro with Ali’s dress color.”
“Couldn’t look any more ridiculous than that bride trying to pull off white,” Loraine said to Ali, her red lips puckering in horror. “That’s why I didn’t bring a present. I figured she could rewrap the last one I gave her. You don’t get a second set of corncob plates just because you made an oopsie.”
“Ali was always a dribbler,” Gail went on as if she’d heard not a word. “Too busy to sit still, always in motion, especially at meals. I’d spend half the time trying to get her to sit still, and the other half in that laundry room, scrubbing away stains.”
Even though her mother was talking to Loraine, all eyes went to Ali. She felt her cheeks heat, and her chest tighten until she couldn’t breathe. It was like she was ten again, with her mother in tears because Ali had spilled apple juice down the front of her flower girl dress.
“Girl was always a class act, if you ask me,” Loraine said with a wink. “All those meals on the boat she’d help prepare. Marty would man the grill and little Ali would be inside shucking peas or making a salad.”
“We had a lot of fun eating out on the sailboat,” Marty said to Ali with a warm smile. “We were too busy having fun to worry about stains. Huh, kiddo?”
Ali’s chest got tighter, but this time it wasn’t from being misunderstood or disappointed, it was from love. Her dad’s love.
“Oh, I didn’t mean…” Gail looked helplessly at Marty, then gave her an apologetic smile. “It’s just you look lovely, dear.”
Like Ali’s childhood therapist had pointed out, Gail didn’t mean any harm by her words, she was looking for a way to connect. And since she’d lived so afraid that what she possessed inside wasn’t enough, she’d placed all that value on external things. Like cars, and status, and appearance.
“Thanks, Mom. I was hoping you’d like it,” Ali said, squeezing Gail’s hand. Gail smiled ear-to-ear and squeezed back. “And I remember, Dad. Those were some fun times down on the boat.”
