“I almost forgot one important detail,” I mentioned before hanging the locket of my family around my neck, with the light catching it in just the right way.
“Let me do one last thing. You don’t have to be out in the cold looking in. He’s going to be here any second. This will make him lose focus during dinner. Being a little bold and brazen doesn’t hurt anybody,” she said. She took the scissors and cut a deep V neckline, leaving nothing underneath to obscure his view of my mountainous terrain.
“This is ridiculous. I just got out of a nasty relationship. I’m not ready for anything at the moment. The same thing can’t be said for my body. It craves his touch and the feel of his hot breath on the back of my neck. I can’t do this,” I protested. But there was very little conviction behind my words.
It was wrong to make her think I was vulnerable. Everything I had gone through made me stronger. I wanted her to convince me. The only way to save face was to make her think she was the catalyst for me moving on. It had to appear to be her idea.
“There’s no reason why you can’t have your cake and eat it too. I seriously doubt that he’s going to complain if you throw yourself at him. Some guys like a forceful attitude and a woman who knows what she wants,” Bethany said over her shoulder. She left the room with a big smile on her face for a job well done.
She snipped the scissors in the air several times with this guilty look of a friend who was trying to push me out of my comfort zone. If only she knew that this was part of my plan to get her to work with me, not against me.
Manipulation came easy to most women, but it was a foreign concept to me. It felt nice to turn the tables and give Cameron a taste of his own medicine.
A pair of open-toed sandals accompanied the outfit. The black dress was put away for a rainy day when he wouldn’t see it coming. Bethany was unaware of my discreet trips to a shop that catered to those who had sexually discriminate tastes. A few implements of satisfaction were in my toy chest under the bed.
There were also pieces of lingerie that would have any man willing to do practically anything to please me. There were some that were a little more scandalous and revealing than others. Leather in a variety of colors was just one of many weapons in my arsenal of sexual tricks.
It was time to fake it to make it. He did make me nervous, but that was the little girl 10 years ago trying to raise her ugly head. She was still there begging for acceptance in his eyes. I wasn’t going to waste any more tears on him. Getting over the worst humiliation of my life turned me into a bitter woman who was barely able to make that connection with the opposite sex.
Nobody knew of my secret shame and I was going to keep it that way for as long as possible. He had caused me heartache.
Two months of teasing him mercilessly was nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Making my way down the stair, I touched the banister with some concern for my safety. It was wobbly and falling apart, piece by piece. The roof was foremost on my mind. It was all about priorities. The place was livable, but I still had to watch my step or risk tumbling to certain injury at the bottom of the stairs.
The paint was peeling but the design of the banister was something that I wanted to bring back to its former glory.
Something smelled delicious.
I was able to spy Cameron on the deck with a cold beer in his hands. He was flipping the meat, searing both sides with char marks. He had a huge smile of on his face.
Bethany was out there with him, but there was no way to know what they were talking about with the balcony door closed. It made my heart skip a beat when I saw him with his shirt open, in an attempt to cool himself off in the unseasonably warm fall weather.
This was an Indian summer.
Some of the leaves surrounding the property had changed color. The fall foliage was threatening to overshadow what was left of summer. The one thing I hated was that divide between fall and winter. That smell of decay, when things were dying, gave birth to my seasonal affective disorder.
Getting out and enjoying winter activities was my answer to the crippling depression that could easily have me bundled up, hibernating inside for the next few months. A pair of skis was sitting at the door; ski boots were on the floor.
Everything was now ready for dinner, with fresh seasonal vegetables simmering on low heat on the stainless steel stove. Fresh corn on the cob had that familiar scent of summer. Scallops and a medley of other seafood, including lobster tails, were basting in spices and garlic butter in a frying pan.
I was turning this meal into a surf and turf experience.
Nothing was threatening to burn, with me keeping a careful eye. There wasn’t one thing I’d want to change about the evening. The whole world practically ground to a halt when I stared unabashedly at the way that he was letting the breeze ruffle his short hair.
It made me sigh deeply with concern for my sexual sanity. It would be easy to let nature take its course after dinner. The only thing standing in my way was Bethany. It wasn’t like I was going to go all the way but there were other things I could do to excite his palate for something more than food.