Hot Docs On Call: New York City Nights. Tina Beckett
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Not smart, Clay.
That didn’t stop him from turning his hand so that his palm was facing up and catching her fingers in his.
And then, opening himself to what could be madness itself, he lifted her hand and kissed it.
Shock went through Tessa’s system at the firm press of his lips against her skin. Memories old and new swirled through her head and her eyes locked with his as he slowly lowered her hand back to the table. But he didn’t let go.
His plate was empty. So was hers.
“Do you want dessert, Tessa?”
She did. Only it was the forbidden kind that she’d enjoy for a little while and then regret the moment she swallowed the last little bite.
She shook her head, still unable to look away.
Not bothering to ask for the check, Clay released her long enough to throw a couple of bills on the table and then stood, hand outstretched.
Her tummy began to twist and turn, half in anticipation, half in fear of what she might say or do.
She gripped his fingers and let him haul her out of her seat in a way that felt like old times—when neither of them had been able to wait for what came next.
Only Tessa no longer knew what that was.
He towed her through the restaurant, nodding at the hostess, who wished them good-night. Then they were outside in the balmy New York air and her back was against the rough adobe finish of the restaurant.
With Clay standing in front of her. Inside her personal space.
He was so close, and when his thumb swept over the back of her hand she jumped.
“Scared?”
Yes. But she knew when to lie. “Not at all. Should I be?”
His fingers gripped even tighter and he gave a slow, knowing smile. “Absolutely.”
“Why is that?” Okay, now she was not only scared, she was dying for him to come a little closer, everything inside her coiling in readiness.
And desire.
Another couple went by them on their way to the front entrance of the restaurant, glancing quickly at them and then away again as if afraid of intruding on an intimate moment.
And they were.
Clay must have felt it, too, because he leaned next to her ear. “Exactly how soon do you need to be home, Tessa?”
Her stomach dropped to her feet. Was he asking if she had to be home, period? Because she had no idea what she was going to say if he asked her to spend the night with him.
Um… Okay, think this through for a minute.
He probably didn’t mean what she thought he did. It had to be something else. Something different, and she was being stupid and naive.
Except he was still stroking his thumb over her skin with featherlight sweeps that were driving her crazy. And his breath was still warm against the side of her face.
She bit her lip, struggling against the need to close her eyes and just go with the flow. If he did mean what she thought he meant… would she say yes?
Yes.
“I don’t have to be home right away. Why?”
How was that for prevaricating? She gave herself a high five for quick thinking.
“It’s a beautiful night. I thought we might start with a walk in the park.”
Start with?
Her stomach dropped a little lower. Central Park was one place they’d gone when they’d been dating. To either walk or study… or find a secluded spot.
They’d been kids back then, though.
So thirty-year-olds didn’t make out?
He doesn’t want to make out with you, Tessa. Get real!
“Do you go to the park a lot these days?”
“Sometimes. It’s a good place to clear my head after surgery.”
Had he gone there after she’d broken things off with him—walked around all by himself? Somehow that thought made her heart ache. But he’d never called again after that scene at her dorm, or even acted as if it had been a big shock.
They’d been fighting on and off for months before that. It had been inevitable that things would eventually come to a head. If he’d just heard the cry of her heart back then, maybe the end of the relationship wouldn’t have been so bitter. They could have parted as friends and gone their separate ways with nothing but fond memories of their time together.
But, of course, that’s not what had happened. And she couldn’t take back what she’d said to him, even if she wanted to. She still felt justified in breaking things off, in some ways.
She hadn’t wanted Clay’s gifts or to have him fix things or take care of her. She’d just wanted his love and respect. He’d never been able to understand that. And maybe he still didn’t, judging from his offer to put in a good word for her with Dr. Wesley.
Enough, Tessa. Let it go.
One thing she did want to do was go for that walk he’d suggested. Just to put to rest any animosity between them. Although she definitely wasn’t sensing any from his side right now.
So she gave his hand a quick squeeze. “The park sounds good.”
Twenty minutes later they were looking over the pond as a couple of runners glided past on silent feet. “I remember when I was a teenager,” Tessa said, “Mom told me to stay out of the park at night. Things sure have changed over the years.”
“My folks were the same way. In fact, I doubt my mother would come here after dark even now unless she had a police escort, and even then it’s iffy.” He gave a low chuckle. “I probably won’t admit I came here, even now.” Clay probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone, actually. Especially his mom, who’d been stunned by the abrupt end of their relationship, although Clay had broken it to her in a completely different way, telling her that the decision had been mutual. There’d been no reason to poison his folks’ attitude toward her, and at the time he’d had no idea that his parents’ scholarship had had anything to do with how Tessa saw him.
Evidently it had.
He was doubly glad he’d handled it the way he had with them. They’d be hurt. Devastated, actually, if they thought they’d had anything to do with her dumping him.
He wished she’d said something. Anything. Maybe they could have worked it out.
No, they couldn’t have. If not because of Tessa, because of him. He’d failed at two