Page 62 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“But if they were sent to me, and before I tuck in, I’m asking myself the following questions: One, is this what they like or were they chosen for me? Two, are they the safe bet like the red rose or sending a message like a yellow rose for friendship? And lastly, is it basic psychology to assume everyone loves chocolate chip or reverse psychology to weed out the weirdos?”

As if she’s exhausted, she lies flat on her back. Draping her arm over her head, she says, “This is way more complicated than I thought. Can’t we just take cookies at face value?”

“Trust me, I never knew I had so many thoughts on cookies. I usually just eat them.”

She bolts upright again. “What? Then what was all that fatal attraction and reminiscent imagery about?”

I shrug. “Thought you wanted more context to help save your business.”

Laughing, she drops her head forward into her hands. When she looks back up, she has a cocked eyebrow. “I never said my business hinged on it, but I have a client who thinks she can get a player to commit by sending him a basket of baked treats.”

“I’d say yes.”

She crawls across the blanket, carefully avoiding the empty dishes. Settling in my lap, she leans back in my arms and stares out the window. “And here I thought I was getting insider secrets.”

I wrap my arms around her middle and kiss the side of her head. “Here’s an insider secret for you,” I whisper. “I love you and your baked goods.”

Even through the dim light filling the space, I can see her million-dollar smile. Her arms cover mine, and she says, “I love you and that nonsense cookie advice, too.”

Bending down, I kiss her neck. Her eyes close, and she sighs contentedly.Who needs cookies when one has this?Not me.

We sit like that for a few minutes, enjoying the peace, the night, and being together again. I’m realizing that she’s feeling a lot like home to my soul than when I was just in California, despite the lack of beach.

I’d rather let her roll over me than a wave any day.

Her head lulls to the side, and she says, “My parents are placating me like I’m a child who’s playing house for the weekend.” I’ve learned that given enough time and space, Natalie will share what’s really on her mind. I keep my mouth shut and my ears open. “My business is low priority. If I worked for the company, though, I’d legitimize my career in their eyes.”

I hate that I can hear myself swallow, but there’s nothing I can do to fix such a problem. I would if I could. I’d fix it so she feels proud instead of misunderstood. Instead, I’ll support her in ways that others don’t. “It’s a unique business, but it’s legitimate. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.”

“My brother handles this pocket portfolio of companies. . . my brother who’s still in college, if I’ve failed to mention that previously. He wants to follow in my father’s footsteps. As for the portfolio, they’re investments on their last legs that haven’t made money.” I hold her, and she adds, “My brother is managing my company from the loan standpoint. Reports are sent to my parents, and their input is syphoned through him to me. I haven’t been a priority since they signed the extension.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not worth their time. It only means that they believe in you enough to continue supporting your dream. And they trust your brother to give him the hands-on experience he needs.”

She turns to look at me, a smile gracing her lips. “That’s a great way of looking at it.”

“Just call me Mr. Positivity.”

“I’d rather kiss you.”

“We can do that, too.”And we do.We kiss until the food containers are pushed to the side and we’re naked in each other’s arms.

Kissing. Loving. Fucking.Holding each other until the early hours of morning come. And I realize why sex with Natalie is out of this world. It’s because of love. It’s not just a moment in time with a hot woman to get off and get her off.

Every moment with her is richer. Every moment feels like a reward. Every moment just makes me want more, and if that means pulling up roots in California, I can see now that it’s a no-brainer.I don’t want to be separated from my girl.

* * *

I pullup in front of her apartment building just shy of five in the morning and take off my helmet, resting it on my lap. She doesn’t make a move to get off, keeping her hands on me, though she isn’t wrapped around me like I prefer. “Do you want to come up?”

“I have an early meeting and my stuff is at the hotel.”

She slips off, and I do the same. I look up at her building. I expected a high-rise when I met her, but this building is smaller and quaint at only ten floors compared to its neighbors. She sets the helmet down and moves against me, not quite touching, but still too far. “Next time you come to New York, if it’s not for good, then I want you to stay with me.” Tugging the hem of my shirt, she asks, “Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” That brings a smile to her face. Since she won’t do it herself, I take her arms and wrap them around my middle. “Would you like to come with me?”

Her laughter echoes down the quiet block of the street. She grips her hands behind my back, laughing. “Oh, now you ask me.” Thoughts are racing through her eyes. She finally says, “You go to your hotel and get a few hours of sleep, and we can meet up this evening. How does that sound?”

“Lonely.”

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