Page 10 of Undoing the Grumpy Guy

I want her. I want to know her and discover if what I feel is a mere attraction or something far deeper.

And that’s why I call her.

Her voice is cool at first and I know that I haven’t adhered to the so-called rules of dating. It’s been over a week since our date and anything past four days signals disinterest. That’s a strike against me and I feel sorrow at the upset I caused her.

I don’t bother with excuses because that’s exactly what they would be- excuses, and I have no doubt she would see right through them. Maybe someday I can confess how I warred with myself, but not now.

Instead, I ask her out.

The warmth in her acceptance makes me smile and I feel lighter than I have in days.

That feeling remains two days later when I knock on the door to her apartment, and she lets me in with a bright, beaming smile.

“Hi,” she says, ushering me inside.

I’m far too busy gazing at her to take in much of her place. She’s dressed in another odd outfit, tight brown corduroy pants and a pink velvet tank top. The sleeveless top shows off her long, slim arms, displaying the small hard knots of her biceps under a smooth layer of pale skin. My fingers itch to test the strength of those tantalizing muscles.

Her long, wild mane of hair has been contained. Twisted up into a knot on her head, I find I miss the flowing locks and the untamed beauty of them.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, reaching out to run my fingers down her arm, stopping at her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gray eyes clash with my blue ones. “I wondered if you were going to call or not. I didn’t see you at the senior center on Tuesday, either.”

Remorse cramps my stomach. “I know. I owe both you and Elliot an apology.”

Disentangling her fingers from mine, she takes a step back, her gaze cool and appraising. “You didn’t have to call or see me again if you didn’t want to. I know we’re not exactly an even match.”

How correct she is makes my head hurt. She’s lovely, unique, and sweet and I’m… none of those things.

Releasing a slow sigh, Winnie attempts a grin and fails. “I don’t know what our grandmothers were thinking setting us up. If you’re here out of some sense of obligation, don’t worry about it. I’m not upset-”.

I cut her off. “Winnie, you’re right, we’re not a wonderful match. You’re someone I never would have agreed to a date with-”.

“No need to be rude about it!” She snaps, her features pinching tight with hurt. “Or to come here just to insult me.”

Shoving my fingers through my hair, I close my eyes and do a long, slow inhale and exhale. Talking with her is so different from presenting a case. My normal cool deserts me and my emotions, that I try so hard to keep in check, surge to the surface instead.

I open my eyes and plea my case. “I’m not trying to insult you. Far from it. Winnie, I’m here because I want to be, not because of some obligation to Elliot or anyone else.”

Grimly, I continue, basically giving her the win. “On the surface, we might not be a good match because honestly, you’re far too good for me, but I hope to persuade you that we could work.”

Winnie cocks her head, her stiff features relaxing slightly. “How am I too good for you? I’m a little nobody. You’re Reed Jackson.” She gestures with her hand at me. “You’re gorgeous and intelligent and…” she trails off. “And I’m me,” she finishes in a small voice.

I can’t help smiling at her words, pleased that she finds me attractive. That’s a step in the right direction. Though the fact that she thinks she’s a nobody is baffling.

I claim her clenched fists in my hands and smooth my thumbs over her tight knuckles. “Yes, you’re you. Not a nobody, but wonderfully, unabashedly you. And I spent every day since meeting you, thinking about you.”

Her hands relax as the tension leaves her body. Tilting her face up, her eyes are bright as she breathes. “You did?”

Nodding, I smile. “I did. But Winnie, I’m older than you and my appearance might be pleasing- thank you for that by the way-”.

She blushes, making my grin grow even wider.

“But I find you very pleasing, as well. More than pleasing, downright addictive.” Coming closer, I lower my head until her large eyes are all I can see. “I’m desperate for another taste.”

A low whimper escapes her and swooping in, I capture her soft pink lips in a kiss full of greedy need.

She tastes as good as I remember, like mint and something wild and sweet. Her lips part for my advancing tongue, letting me in to stroke and explore her silken mouth. Our hands remain clasped as our bodies strain together, lips, teeth, and tongues sucking, nipping, and caressing.

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