Hard Beat(67)

“It’s not much, but —”

“It’s perfect!” There’s appreciation and so much more woven in her tone. “Just perfect.”

And the repetition of the word mixed with the break in her voice tells me that this was the right thing to do, that my sister was right: Every woman needs to feel like she matters regardless of how many hours you spend together a day.

“I won’t take all of the credit. I had some help.” Her eyes whip over to mine, but I just smile at her. “Relax. Hotel staff that don’t know us from Adam. It wasn’t anyone who works with us.”

When her smile softens as she turns to survey the scene again, I reach out and grab her hand, tugging her body so it lands firmly against mine. As she looks up to me, her eyelashes flutter, and her eye color is such a sharp green in this vast backdrop of tan landscape. “I just wanted to give you a real date like you deserve. Something more than sex in a hotel room…” I pause when we both laugh. “Which is kind of the only way we can have it here, considering the circumstances, but…” I have to stop myself from rambling, because even though I am never unsure of myself around women, for some reason, right now, I am nervous.

I don’t know if it’s the look in her eyes or the fact that this is the first time in forever that I really, truly wanted to try to make something special for someone, but the sudden sense of insecurity that I feel is foreign and oddly welcoming. Yet at the same time the feeling is a pain in the ass.

And I think she senses my conflict, sees me falter over the words that I can’t form, because she steps up on tiptoe, uses her hands on my shirt to pull me down to her, and presses her lips against mine. The kiss lingers over the next several minutes, tongues fluttering as we drink each other in, before she leans back and looks at me. “It’s the nicest thing that anyone has done for me in as long as I can remember. Thank you. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.” Tears glisten in her eyes as I pull her into my chest, wrap my arms around her, and just hold on.

We stand like this as time moves slowly amid the glow of tiny flickers of light and colors illuminating the sky on the horizon. And then, I begin to sway back and forth with her, stepping side to side, dancing to the beat of our heartbeats in rhythm together. I twirl her out at arm’s length, her gasp of surprise turning to a laugh that causes her head to fall back and her hair to hang farther down her back. She spins into my arms again, so that our chests touch and our hearts are connected once more.

“I guess I could play some music on my phone,” I say in a pseudo apology, suddenly embarrassed that I forgot such an important element of the evening. But when I start to let her go, she just holds on tighter.

“No. Don’t. It’s perfect just like this. Everything is…” Her voice trails off as emotion thickens it.

So we dance for a few more minutes, spinning around the rooftop and laughing until our bodies home in on the need to be close again, before we sit down on the mattress. Beaux looks at me over the bag, and her face lights up when she pulls out a bottle of wine followed by cheap plastic glasses and some cheese, crackers, and chocolate. “Oh my God, this looks like Heaven!” She takes a bite of the gourmet cheese that I had to pay an arm and a leg to get here, but for the look in her eyes and the smile on her face, I’d have paid double.

“I pulled out all the stops. Even the fine china,” I tease, thinking that in a way this date is beyond silly but still perfectly fitting for the two of us. In the life we lead chasing stories, it comes down to the little things that mean so very much – and tonight I’m glad to know by her reaction that she feels the same way.

“You did!” she says as she leans over the food spread between us and presses her mouth to mine. “When did you do all of this?”

“You’re not the only one who can go wandering the streets all by themselves, rookie.” I give her a quirk of my brow and receive a head shake from her in return.

“Should I give you the same lecture you give me?”

“It’s different.”

“No it’s not!” She swats my arm.

“I’m a guy. It’s totally different,” I repeat.

“And I’m a woman,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest in mock irritation.

“That you are,” I murmur, a suggestive smirk turning up the corners of my mouth. “A mighty fine one at that, and I most definitely am not complaining.”

“Good to know you approve.”

I trace my fingertips up the bare skin of her thighs. “Oh I approve, rookie. I definitely approve.” Desire stirs in an atomic bomb of need curling in the pit of my stomach.

“Later, Pulitzer. You’ll get to approve a lot more later.” She laughs as she pushes the bottle of wine against my chest to fend me off.

“That’s cold!” I take the bottle, though, and start to open it.

“Do you actually think you are going to hand a woman who has been deprived of indulgences a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate and who knows what else is in here and think you’re going to distract her with sex?”

“Did I just get denied for food?”

“It’s not just food. It’s chocolate. That’s like the holy – Tanner, what is… really?” Her voice escalates in excitement and then laughter as she pulls two kid-sized bottles of bubbles from the bag.