Three Times the Charm Read online

  “I promised you breakfast,” Alex said with a grin. “Go take a shower and I’ll start cooking.”

  She hesitated then nodded. After such a vigorous round of loving, hunger roared within. “All right,” Carisa said.

  Since her clothes lay crumpled on Alex’s bedroom floor, she found a robe of his and donned it after her shower. Although she wondered just what she’d wear home, Carisa headed to the kitchen, damp hair trailing down her back. The enticing aromas of coffee and bacon reached her. Her tummy did a flip and when she saw Alex at the stove in nothing but a pair of boxers, her cunt did cartwheels. God, this man was yummy and she wanted more.

  “Sit down,” he said and waved a spatula toward the old pine table. “I’ll bring coffee and you can drink a cup while you look out at the garden.”

  “Thanks.” Carisa sipped coffee as she stared outside at the backyard. His house reminded her of an enchanted cottage, something from a fairy tale, but the garden cinched the image. The greenest grass she’d ever seen stretched out toward a tall privacy fence at the rear, lush and thick. Hollyhocks bloomed along the fence beside a stand of burgeoning tiger lilies. On the left side of the yard, two apple trees displayed hard green knots, which would become the fall harvest. Petunias lifted their heads toward the sky in a riot of color from several flowerboxes. Shasta Daisies rioted along the right side of the yard along with what she thought must be Brown-Eyed Susan flowers and purple coneflowers. Just outside the back door, rose bushes offered up beautiful blossoms in several colors: pale pink, vibrant yellow, and scarlet.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I didn’t know you had a green thumb.”

  Alex grinned. “I don’t, not really. Most of it is just perennials, things my grandparents planted and nurtured. All I have to do is keep the weeds down, keep them watered, and tend them a little.”

  “It suits this amazing house,” Carisa told him. “And both suit you.”

  His face flushed with pleasure. “Thanks. I like to think so. A lot of people can’t appreciate this kind of place. I’m glad you can.”

  “Oh, I do, believe me,” she said. “And you can cook, too!”

  “I hope you still think so after you eat it. Do you like your eggs scrambled or over easy?”

  “Scrambled, please.”

  The breakfast he served featured three strips of bacon, crisp but not burned, done to perfection, the fluffiest scrambled eggs Carisa ever put into her mouth, and whole wheat toasted, with just enough light margarine to be perfect. She savored each bite with pleasure. Although Alex skimmed the morning newspaper and she looked over some of the Sunday ads, Carisa didn’t feel slighted at all. Something of the cocoon created when they made love lingered and she thought, for the first time, waking up each morning with a man she loved might not be so bad. As a child of divorce, daughter of a deadbeat dad, Carisa once vowed she didn’t want a long-term relationship––but then, she’d never met a man like Alex. Her view began to shift, just a little.

  “It’s delicious,” she told him after she finished. “Thank you.”

  “What would you like to do today?” he asked. “It’s Sunday and unless you have something going on, we have all day.”

  Carisa shook her head. “My big plans included spending the day reading, maybe cooking something. I planned to bake those cookies for you.”

  His green eyes sparkled. “Bake them here,” he suggested. “We can go to the supermarket together and get the stuff.”

  She liked the idea, a lot, but baking in either his bathrobe or her Roaring Twenties garb didn’t have much appeal. “I would, but I don’t have anything to wear,” she said.

  He frowned. “I could loan you something, but I don’t think anything of mine would fit.”

  “Probably not,” Carisa agreed. She wondered if she could call Daphne but before she decided, her cell phone sang out. “Hello? Yes, I’m fine. I’m, uh, at Alex’s.”

  Daphne’s whoop of delight echoed into the kitchen. “Awesome!”

  “Yeah, it is,” Carisa agreed. “Can you do me a huge favor?”

  She outlined what clothes she wanted and her friend agreed to bring them over. “It’s right on my way to brunch anyway,” Daphne said.

  Alex lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. “Daphne’s bringing me some clothes,” Carisa said. “If you want to catch a shower, I’ll clean up the kitchen. You cooked, so it’s fair. Then we can go to the market, get the stuff, and I’ll bake you some cookies.”

  His grin began small and stretched across his face until it became huge. “Sounds great.”

  “You don’t mind Daphne dropping by?”

  “Why would I?”

  “You’re her boss.”

  He laughed. “I might feel awkward if Daphne was the one wearing my robe, but no, it’s cool with me.”

  Two hours later, wearing her favorite blue and white sailor-style blouse over a pair of navy pedal pushers with comfortable canvas shoes, Carisa pushed the cart up and down the aisles of the big chain grocery store in the nearest shopping center. Alex walked beside her, tossing odds and ends into the cart. He’d said he was shopping for the coming week, but somehow she doubted he normally bought some of the items.

  At the fresh meat counter, she picked out two fine strip steaks, something she knew she could cook without any difficulty. Carisa added a couple of huge potatoes and a bag of salad.

  “What’s all this?” Alex asked as he peered into the cart.

  “I thought I’d make dinner,” Carisa said. “And make the cookies, too.”

  “Wow,” he said and she thought he meant it. If she’d guessed, she would’ve thought women would be crawling all over this great-looking guy, making him gourmet meals, and offering him world-class sex . . . but he seemed almost lonely. “I’d love dinner.”

  “Good,” she told him. “You’re going to have it.”

  Her recent Sundays were long, slow days, blocks of time to endure. Carisa often did spend them reading romance novels and dreaming. Sometimes she went to a nearby park, or took the bus to visit an art gallery or museum. Once in a while she cooked up something, more for amusement than appetite. Daphne always had a date or something going on with some of her friends or her huge family. Although Carisa went along to a brunch or party, she always felt like an intruder.

  This Sunday, however, back at Alex’s amazing place, Carisa felt at home. She mixed up her chocolate chip cookies from the recipe lodged in her memory and baked six dozen. Then she put the potatoes into the oven to bake. She chopped up a tomato, a green pepper, and a sweet onion to add to the salad. Carisa even stirred up a package of balsamic vinaigrette dressing so they’d have it freshly made. She sliced up the loaf of French bread she bought at the market and they dined like royalty that night.

  After spending the afternoon and early evening watching vintage movies from Alex’s collection, he took her home.

  “Hey, it’s a busy week ahead,” he told her as they pulled up outside her apartment house. “But I’d like to do something Friday night, if you’re interested.”

  “Absolutely,” Carisa told him.

  “Great,” he said. “I’ll pick you up early, right after work, around five.” And with that, he left her with the promise of another date, mouth tingling with his kiss.

  Chapter Three

  Carisa’s work week stretched out long and thin. Her kids had never been quite so fussy or prone to arguments. She broke up more disagreements over crayons than she could count, wiped tears from freckled cheeks, and struggled to remain cheerful. She missed Alex and wished he’d call, but he didn’t. Their two dates ranked high on her list of best ever and she couldn’t complain about anything. When they were together, he couldn’t be more awesome.

  As she picked at a frozen entrée and stared at some sitcom on television Wednesday evening, Daphne whirled into the apartment. “I had the most wonderful day,” she sang out as she dropped her handbag onto the floor and sprawled into the easy chair. “How was yours?”

  “Same
old, same old,” Carisa told her. She gave up on the shrimp and pasta meal. Either she’d overcooked it in the microwave or it just tasted like burned rubber. “This week sucks.”

  Daphne plucked a chocolate kiss out of the candy dish they kept on the coffee table. “You sound down. I thought you had another hot date with Alex on Friday?”

  “I do.”

  “So what’s up?”

  Carisa shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m looking forward to going out with him again, but it’d be nice if I heard from him in between our dates. I never do and for all I know, he could have a different date every night of the week.”

  Laughter burst out from Daphne. “Honey, he doesn’t.”

  Her roomie’s swift denial made her feel a tiny bit better but Carisa still asked, “How do you know?”

  “Alex has been at jury duty all week,” Daphne told her with a mischievous grin. “They’re sequestered until they return a verdict, so he couldn’t call if he wanted.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I thought I told you.”

  She pondered it and shook her head. “I don’t think so. And neither did Alex.”

  Daphne smiled. “He wasn’t looking forward to it at all, so maybe that’s why. Or what if he did, and you just weren’t paying attention?”

  Denial filled her mouth, but before she spoke Carisa considered how distracted she’d been. She might’ve missed it while ogling his masculine beauty or basking in the afterglow. Or maybe Alex didn’t mention it so she wouldn’t obsess about it or worry he might miss their date.

  “It’s possible,” Carisa said. “But what if they don’t reach a verdict before Friday?”

  If the jury didn’t, her date wouldn’t happen.

  “I don’t know, but it’ll work out. He’s crazy about you,” Daphne told her. “I heard him talking to Geoff, his assistant about how awesome you are and how much fun you two had. Remember, Alex is my boss and I’ve heard all the office gossip. He hasn’t talked about a woman he’s dating this much, ever.”

  “Wow,” Carisa said. Maybe Alex might make the transition from dating to something more long-term. “Thanks, Daphne. I feel so much more encouraged now.”

  Although she still wondered if their planned date would happen, Carisa retired early and slept until her cell phone, plugged into the charger beside the bed, blasted her awake. She groped for it without even checking the caller’s name. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” Alex said into her ear. Carisa roused from her drowsy stupor to full awareness. “I know it’s late, but I grabbed a chance to call even though I’m not supposed to. I’m using the desk clerk’s phone downstairs at the hotel, but I wanted to talk to you.”

  So, Carisa thought, he’d meant to tell her. A glad feeling spread through her body, like warm butter over toast. “I’m glad you called,” she told him. “How’s jury duty?”

  “Boring,” he replied. “I couldn’t remember if I mentioned it or not. Anyway, we’re deliberating on the verdict. I don’t know when we’ll finish, but I wanted to ask a favor. It’s huge and if you don’t want to do it, just say so, and no hard feelings.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “I think we’ll be finished sometime late Friday or early Saturday morning,” Alex said. “I hope so, anyway. I don’t know if I’ll be cut loose in time for our date, but I want to see you. So I wondered if you’d mind hanging out at my place until I get there. That way, I can head home, grab a shower, change my clothes and we’ll make plans from there. Will you?”

  “I’d love to,” she said and meant it. “But how do I get inside?”

  Alex laughed. “I keep a hidden key. It’s on the front porch hanging behind the mailbox. Swing it aside and you’ll find it.”

  “Okay,” Carisa replied. “I’ll be waiting for you, then, Alex. I’m glad you asked me. I’ve missed you.”

  “Baby, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” he said. “I’ve got to go, though. I’m not even supposed to be out of the hotel room, let alone on the phone. I’ll see you, just as soon as we finish up here.”

  “I’ll be there,” she promised.

  She didn’t expect to sleep after his phone call, but Carisa did. She woke a little late and rushed to get to school on time, but her mood remained so buoyant nothing darkened it. The daily skinned knees, stomach aches, and squabbles from her class were just minor hiccups in an otherwise great day. Carisa read a fairy tale to the kids, but her mind wandered as she planned for her upcoming stay at Alex’s marvelous house. After school, she headed home and packed her largest suitcase. Maybe she shouldn’t, but she headed over to Alex’s, found the key and let herself inside.

  Silence met her at the door and with no one at home, the still air almost echoed with emptiness. Carisa entered and the same sense of homecoming enveloped her. She’d expected to feel like a trespasser, but she didn’t. She carried her suitcase to Alex’s bedroom and noted how tidy the house remained. No dirty dishes littered the counter or filled the sink. The plants near the pine table needed watering so Carisa took care of the chore. She checked out what food he had on hand and made a list.

  Her plans included having something delicious and hot waiting for his arrival and although she hadn’t figured out what she would prepare, she ruled out what she wouldn’t cook. She determined to make his homecoming as romantic and fun as possible. Carisa snooped just a bit, peeked into his closets and listened to the messages on his answering machine. None were from other women. She found a photo album stashed inside one of the bookshelves and thumbed through it. Photographs of Alex from babyhood through college filled the pages and she grinned as she watched him grow up through the pictures.

  After a couple of hours, Carisa headed out, stopping at the local market. Using the list, she bought the makings for homemade chicken and dumplings along with a bottle of a crisp white wine, a small apple tart from the bakery with whipped cream and some croissants. In the floral and gift department, she bought several scented candles. Last, she picked up a sandwich in the deli and returned to Alex’s to put everything away. Her original intention to return to the apartment for the night evaporated, and she ate her sandwich at the kitchen table.

  Playing house, Carisa took a long, delightful soak in the big bathtub and made a mental note to pick up some scented bath salts for another time. She dried off using one of Alex’s fluffy oversized towels and climbed into his bed. The sheets emitted his masculine fragrance and although the bed seemed too large for one, she drifted to sleep with contentment.

  On Friday morning, she dressed for work and stopped for coffee on the way to school. Keyed up with anticipation, although Carisa had no idea when Alex would show up, she wished she’d called in and taken the day off. She managed to muddle through the finger painting, story time, and recess. When school dismissed, she all but danced to her car and headed straight for Alex’s place.

  Carisa spent the next few hours cooking and didn’t stop until a Dutch oven filled with chicken and dumplings simmered on a rear burner. She washed up everything she’d dirtied in the process, and ate a half a sandwich.

  After a quick shower she combed out her hair and let it air dry. Carisa donned the lovely rose-colored satin nightgown she’d brought along. The full-length gown fit her curves and the lace running from the bosom to the hem accented the overall look. She’d bought it months ago on sale because of its beauty and wondered when or where she might wear it. Carisa spritzed on just enough French perfume to be enticing and pleasing. Then she applied her makeup with exaggerated care, almost as if she were a movie star, not just a kindergarten teacher. She coaxed her curls and waves into a semblance of order and settled down to read while she waited for Alex to return. She lit the lavender-scented candles, too. Once in a while she headed to the kitchen to stir the simmering entrée.

  Hours crawled by, but when Carisa heard Alex’s key turning in the front door lock her heart went crazy, beating an irregular rhythm. She sprawled across the sofa in what she hoped would be
a sensual pose and waited. He came inside, his collected mail in one hand, and stopped short.

  Alex grinned and the expression lit his tired face. “Carisa, you look lovely,” he said and held out his hand. She rose as if he charmed her from the couch and crossed the floor to take it.

  “Thank you,” she said. “How did it go?”

  He made a face and frowned. “We found the man guilty and voted for a life sentence. I’m sure he did the crime . . . but I’m worn out. The jury spent hours debating it.”

  As if she’d done it often, Carisa clasped her hands around his neck and kissed him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  As he bent toward her lips, he nodded. “I’m starved. I thought I smelled something cooking. What’d you make?”

  “Chicken and dumplings,” she said before his mouth claimed hers. Alex kissed her, his lips fit to her as if they’d been tailored. He wrapped her into an embrace and gave her his mouth, slow and measured. Her pulse quickened and his cock moved against her with interest. The long smooch promised more to come as he released her.

  “That’s my favorite,” he told her. “My mom always made it for my birthdays or special occasions. Will you think I’m an ass if I insist we eat first?”

  She didn’t need to ask what he meant––dinner now, with sex later. “No, not at all.”

  The late-night meal provided a deep sense of intimacy, cozy and familiar. Carisa, who seldom enjoyed her own cooking as much as she did someone else’s, thought she did well with the dish. Alex praised it and ate two heaping bowls along with a croissant. They sipped the white wine and by the time they finished, Carisa experienced a deep, calm sense of relaxation.

  Neither wanted the apple tart so she saved it for later. As she prepared to run dishwashing water, Alex stopped her, one hand on the faucet. “Just soak the dishes,” he said. “I’d like to spend some time with you.”