Valentine Vote Page 9

  As much as she’d like to get down-and-dirty with him, though, she feared she’d disappoint him with her lack of experience. Aside from what she’d read in romance novels or conjured in her wild fantasies, she was a novice on the mechanics. (She flashed to a mental image in Popular Mechanics of inserting rod A into slot B.)

  Truth be told, wild fantasies had nothing to do with true affection or closeness, and with him, sex was about more than just fitting their bodies together. It was about sharing something with him she’d never shared with anyone else. It was about becoming one.

  Face it, Court, you’re falling in love. She took a deep breath then sunk under the rising water in the tub. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought about how she’d need to be honest with Eric … even if it meant losing him. But not tonight.

  Tonight she just wanted to be in his arms.

  • • •

  The restaurant, Sanctuary, had formerly been a small brick home. It was tucked on a quiet street near the university, an area more residential than commercial. Courtney tried to mask her disappointment at not staying at Eric’s house by chatting incessantly as they exited the car and walked up to the front door.

  The restaurant owner, who Eric introduced as Michael, led them to a small room that looked to be a former bedroom. He pulled out a chair for Courtney. “You’ll be the only party dining in this room tonight.” Courtney caught his wink to Eric. Theirs was one of three tables, each set for two diners. “We have a couple of special items since you were last here, Senator, including rack of lamb and veal piccata.” He handed menus to Eric and Courtney. “The wine list is on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your selection.”

  “Just bring us something from Shelton’s. Whatever white you like, Michael,” Eric said.

  “Shelton’s?” Courtney asked as the owner left the room.

  “It’s a local winery, and if I remember correctly, you like white.”

  “I do like white, but I don’t eat lamb or veal.”

  “I’ve seen you gobble bacon, so I know you’re not a vegetarian.”

  “No, but those baby animals never had the chance to grow up. Ever since I saw lambs frolicking in a spring meadow and a PETA film about calves, I swore off them.”

  “Good for you.” He reached for her hand. “I can vouch for the trout; it’s top notch.”

  Goose bumps rose on Courtney’s arm when Eric turned her palm over and stroked it with his other hand. He could keep that up … forever.

  “Uh, this restaurant seems excellent, but I was kind of hoping we’d stay in.” She could feel the heat creep up her neck with her bold remark.

  The side of Eric’s mouth twitched. “The temptation was too great.”

  “Temptation meaning me?”

  “Precisely.”

  Courtney tingled all over from the palm massage. She wanted his hands on her breasts. “Sometimes the most sensible move is to give in to temptation.”

  “Sensible? I don’t think so, Courtney.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what was this weekend about?”

  “It was, is, a chance to get to know each other better.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Did you think I’d soften my stance on you-know-what?”

  “I believe I know where you stand.”

  “So, if you weren’t, aren’t, going to seduce me, I guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” She eased her foot out of her suede pump and inched her toes under the hem of Eric’s gray wool trousers.

  “You’re playing with fire, Courtney. I have my limits.”

  “And just what might those limits be?” Courtney smiled seductively as she ran her toes up and down Eric’s calf and placed her hand on his thigh.

  “Let’s just say you’re getting dangerously close.” He grabbed her hand under the table, just as Michael returned with the wine.

  “I think you’ll like this Sauvignon Blanc.” Michael seemed oblivious to the near miss he’d interrupted. “Who’d like to taste?”

  “I’ll let the lady do the honors,” Eric said. He let go of her hand then removed reading glasses from his shirt pocket.

  Courtney swirled the wine in the glass and took a sip. She noticed a slight flare in Eric’s nostrils as he picked up the menu and buried his face in it. His breathing seemed deep, like he was trying to calm himself. Good.

  • • •

  Much as my dick’s about to explode, I am not going to cave. Holy shit, I need a drink! Eric picked up his wine glass and almost emptied it in one gulp. He’d told himself he needed to keep his wits about him, but right now, he wanted the calming effects of a little alcohol.

  “Would you like me to order for us?” He continued to peruse the menu, not daring to look at Courtney. She was probably licking her lips, and he didn’t need that image.

  “Sure. Want to start with oysters? I’ve never tested their aphrodisiac qualities.”

  Eric lowered the menu just far enough to reveal his eyes. He peered at her for a long moment before answering. “Not a good idea.”

  “Mind if I ask why you’re being so coy?”

  “Men aren’t coy.”

  “Okay, then, evasive?”

  He set the menu down. “Courtney, I think we should wait.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t take your virginity lightly.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that?” She sighed. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Wait a minute, now I’m starting to feel like the means to an end.” Eric laughed.

  Courtney touched his hand lightly. “No, you’re much more than that, and if I have to admit it, I appreciate your concern. But I’m beginning to understand what sexual frustration is.”

  Out of Eric’s peripheral vision, he saw Michael approaching.

  “Are you ready to order? Would you like to start with some bruschetta ?” Michael asked.

  “Is it loaded with garlic?” Eric swiped a finger across his eyebrow, which was moist with perspiration. Courtney was sexually frustrated and embarrassed, but she’d said something else that truly jolted his heart. She’d said he was ‘much more’ than a means to an end. Maybe she really cared about him. Now, more than ever, he had to make sure they didn’t end up in the sack.

  “Do you want it to be?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, absolutely. I want it to ooze out of my pores.”

  Both Courtney and Michael’s eyes grew wide.

  “All right, then,” Michael said, “I’ll get going on that while you decide on the rest of the meal.” Michael gave Eric a quick nod and left the room.

  “Do you think I’m a vampire? Because if you’re trying to put me off with garlic, I’ll eat as much as you. We’ll neutralize each other.”

  Eric raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have known you’d come up with a cogent counter.”

  “Hey, counselor, no one said we weren’t equally matched.”

  “Will you excuse me for a moment?” Eric pushed back from the table, and though he was in no shape to stand up, he kept his napkin strategically placed in front of him as he pushed his chair back under the table and quickly turned to leave the room. He needed to splash water on his face … and maybe down his pants. When he closed the one-man bathroom door, he gripped the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. Courtney was coming on to him like there was no tomorrow. He’d need to turn the tide to dissuade her.

  Think. Think. Think. Aha!

  He cupped his hands with water, splashed his face, and dried off with paper towels as his plan took root.

  Returning to the dining room via the kitchen, he completed the dinner order in conversation with the chef, ordering carrot soup and trout meuniere. The pungent smell of garlic made his eyes water when the bruschetta reached their table. The chef must have minced every garlic bulb within a hundred mile radius of Winston-Salem.

  “Save some for me,” he said to Courtney, who had
a large square of bruschetta poised in her hand.

  “Don’t worry. We’d have to take separate cars if only one of us ate this.” Courtney returned the bruschetta to her plate and fanned it toward Eric.

  Eric sat down and reached for a slice. “If we went somewhere else after dinner, we’d clear the room.” He took a bite.

  Courtney laughed, her nose crinkling in the process.

  “Listen,” Eric said, weighing his words carefully, “there’s nothing I want more than to make love to you, but I want it to be right.” Here comes the zinger. “I don’t have any of my accoutrements here in Winston-Salem, and I’m sure you’d enjoy the … event … more with the addition of some toys.”

  Eric smiled inside as all color drained from Courtney’s face. Her posture stiffened and one hand flew to her neck to fiddle with a little diamond heart on a gold chain. So much for her bravado. “Well, that’s not entirely necessary.” Her voice cracked on ‘necessary.’

  “But it’s your first time, and I want it to be all you expect.”

  She blinked … repeatedly.

  “Let’s wait until we get back to Washington.” Eric reached across the table and took her hand. He’d bought himself some time, albeit with a lie that he’d have to back pedal out of later. But at least he wouldn’t take her under false pretenses, and if she bolted after the vote, he wouldn’t feel like a heel for stealing her virginity. Also, this was all so new for her. Maybe she’d gotten ahead of herself with the sexual innuendos. Maybe underneath her bravado, all she wanted was his vote. His heart sunk, but only momentarily. He didn’t want to believe that, but could it have something to do with why she always pulled away?

  For now, he’d be content with this small victory. Her first time should be with someone she really cared about. Eventually, he hoped that would be him.

  • • •

  Well, I royally botched that up. Deep in contemplation, Courtney chewed on her bottom lip. What is Eric’s modus operandi? Why is he so reluctant to go to bed with me? She appreciated his concern about her virginity, truly she did. It warmed her heart. But her girly bits had other ideas, and darned if she wasn’t ready to become a woman in the true sense. As each day dawned, she inched closer to competing in the Guinness Book of World Records as “Oldest Living Virgin.” But it was deeper than losing her virginity. She respected this man, so while the lust factor was high, there was so much more to Senator Eric Morrison. She was even starting to understand his stance on tobacco, and wasn’t that a paradigm shift? Oh, well, it looked like lovemaking was off the table for the evening, and maybe that was for the best. At some point, she’d need to tell him that the sex toys were unnecessary. Would that be the death knell for a relationship? She shrugged mentally, hoping there was no outward sign. Then with a heavy heart, she bit into the pungent bruschetta .

  Chapter Thirteen

  Valentine’s Day couldn’t come fast enough for Courtney, and it wasn’t tied to the anticipation of a bouquet of roses or a huge box of chocolates. Nope. This Valentine’s Day Courtney would know if the campaign she’d devoted so much of her time and energy to these past few months would benefit the lives of vulnerable youth … or not.

  Since she and Eric had returned from Winston-Salem, they’d had little time to see each other, which gave Courtney more time to consider her future. And she was quite sure she wanted Eric in it. He’d invited her for lunch at the Courtyard Café at the National Portrait Gallery, and with the vote just four days away, this might be her last opportunity to set the record straight … before he cast his vote.

  For once, Courtney arrived early—an attempt to calm herself for the revelation she’d spring on Eric. The Courtyard Café was one of her favorite spots in D.C. Housed in the Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard, it was a magnificent space under a glass canopy, and she’d attended a number of fundraising events here. But today, only a handful of patrons sat at the linen clad tables, sipping their illy coffee or glasses of wine. She and Eric would have plenty of privacy.

  Suddenly, what had been nervous jitters in her stomach turned to churning waves. Instead of eating, they should stroll the museum first. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could eat now anyway. She scooted back to the museum entrance to wait for Eric there.

  He bounded up the steps of the Greek revival building, the collar of his overcoat turned up against today’s gale force winds. She waved through the glass entrance doors, marveling at how handsome he was.

  “Wow, you arrived before me. That’s a first.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek.

  Courtney chose not to comment on why she’d gotten there early. “I love this place, and it’s been ages since I wandered through the collections. I thought we might go upstairs before lunch. They’ve added a few new portraits to the “Struggle for Justice” permanent exhibit.”

  “Is that how you see your job, as a struggle for justice?” He half smiled.

  “My stance isn’t about justice, it’s about personal responsibility.” Courtney took a deep breath. “And that’s what I want to talk about.” She pointed to the broad marble staircase. “Let’s go upstairs first.”

  Entering the exhibit, Courtney picked up a flyer about the portraits in the “Struggle for Justice,” all of whom were major cultural and political figures—from key nineteenth century historical figures to contemporary leaders—who struggled to achieve civil rights for disenfranchised or marginalized groups. She led the way down a long corridor, stopping at the portrait of United Farm Workers organizer César Chávez.

  “Interesting you should stop here.” Eric nodded to the portrait. “He’s one of my heroes.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Courtney reached for his hand. “Chavez devoted his life to the conditions of farmers, and that’s what you do for your constituents.”

  “I certainly try.”

  Courtney took Eric’s other hand, so they stood facing each other in front of the portrait. “I know your heart is in the right place, Eric, and you need to know that the way I feel about you has nothing to do with how you’re going to vote on the tobacco tax.” She squeezed his hands. “There, I said it.”

  Next thing she knew, Eric had pulled her into his arms. He breathed into her hair, that wonderful warm breath of his. She inhaled his glorious spicy scent as he said, “Courtney Larson, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  • • •

  Courtney panicked when her phone chirped and a text from Eric popped up, congratulating her on the vote and saying he was on his way to her apartment. A mixture of excitement and dread gripped her when she heard the knock on the door. He’d voted against the tax, of course, and in an odd way, she was proud of him for his stand. She froze for a moment. Now that the vote had been decided, she’d have to come clean about the kind of relationship she needed. But in this moment, all she wanted was to be in his arms.

  She flung the door open and then skidded into him on the icy stoop. He lost his footing, and they toppled together onto the sidewalk. Arms and legs tangled, they rolled, and then came to an abrupt stop at the boxwood hedge lining the walk. Courtney sat up, laughing. Eric bounded to his feet and helped her up.

  “I guess you’re not mad at me,” he said.

  “Mad? Did you think I’d be mad?”

  “I wasn’t sure, but since your side won,” he smiled, “I’m the one who should be licking my wounds.”

  “Are you licking your wounds?”

  Eric pulled Courtney into his arms. He rested his chin on her head. “Oddly, I’m relieved. I felt duty bound to support my constituents, but the vote went the right way.”

  Courtney looked up at him. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. And I want you to know that your campaign did have an impact on me. I’m going to crack down on growers who are spiking up nicotine in tobacco, and I’m going to try to get incentives for growers to begin planting hemp and other environmentally-friendly crops. I truly believe it’s the best option for my constituents’ long-term survival. I don’t have m
uch influence in the North Carolina General Assembly, but I’ll encourage everyone I know in state office to fund tobacco prevention and cessation programs. It won’t happen overnight, but I’m committed to making changes.”

  “That’s quite a confession, Senator.”

  “It’s nothing compared to what’s coming.”

  “What, now you’re going to tell me that you have a wife and three children holed up in a Georgetown townhouse?” Courtney’s heart raced. She was joking, but her tendency to prepare for bad news got the best of her.

  “Of course not.” He tucked her head back under his chin and caressed her neck. “I’m going to tell you what I really want. I just hope you want the same thing.”

  Courtney stiffened in his arms. Would this be the end of her hopes and dreams? Had he waited for this vulnerable moment with her high on the vote’s victory to plead his case for BDSM? Had all his gentility been merely a ploy to get to this moment of truth? She hugged him tighter, wanting to prolong this last embrace before he found out she wasn’t even close to the woman of his erotic dreams. She was a complete fraud. Well, she’d kept up the ruse as long as possible. Better face the inevitable.

  Eric cleared his throat. “I’m in love with you, Courtney. I love you.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I love you, and I want you, whenever you’re ready to take the next step.”

  When Courtney opened her mouth, her teeth started chattering, but she managed to say, “I love you, too.”

  Eric laughed and hugged her tightly. “What say we continue this discussion inside?” He helped her up and they entered Courtney’s townhouse. Just as she closed the door, it sprang open again. Helen bolted inside rubbing her arms from the cold, before she even noticed Eric and Courtney. When she saw them, she jumped, and then she looked closely at their expressions. “Uh, did I catch you two in the middle of something?” She held up a hand. “Wait, don’t even tell me. I haven’t been laid in so long, I don’t think my heart could stand it. Just know that I’m happy for you two.” She looked back and forth at them again. “Oh, God, you probably want to be alone, and here I show up like a bad penny.”