Page 24 of Remembering You
His smile pressed wider and he chewed the inside of his cheek before leaning down. Marty’s eyes fluttered closed and she parted her lips, awaiting that moment when they connected. But just before he reached her mouth, he turned his head, his lips brushing against her ear. His breath was hot against her skin as he whispered, “Our kiss won’t be bad, Marty. I think we both know there’s no lack of chemistry here.”
Her breath heaved in her chest and she felt his words between her legs. She lifted her hand, and as she brushed her fingertips against his smooth, chiseled jaw, she felt the spark resonate up her arm. She stroked her thumb against his cheek until her fingernail brushed the corner of his mouth. “Then prove it,” she whispered back.
She barely got the words out before his lips were pressed against hers, sliding over her mouth. She gasped and he took the moment of parted lips to slide his tongue against the open seam of her mouth. Marty groaned, diving her free hand into his full head of soft hair as he palmed her hip, giving her a firm squeeze.
It felt so good. So, so good. And it had nothing to do with the time that had elapsed since her last kiss. In that moment, Marty was grateful she had waited. For the right man… for the right kiss.
He pulled back, ending their kiss at just the right moment, his lips brushing the crest of her cheek before he looked down at her, smiling.Wow. Marty swallowed and without thinking, ran her tongue across her lips as though she might be able to still taste trace amounts of him on her.
“What did I tell you?” Chris said, sliding his thumb across her lower lip.
Marty smiled, dipping her chin to hide the blush she could feel warming the apples of her cheeks. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” She moved out of his grasp toward the front closet to grab her coat.
She heard a rustle behind her and glanced back in time to catch him shaking his head no. “It wasn’t my kiss that I had confidence in. It was all you. How the hell could anyone have a bad kiss with you?”
She tensed up at that, all the nerves slamming back into her belly, considering she hasn’t kissed all that many men in her life. With a deep breath, she opened the closet door and reached for the pea coat she wore every day around town and to work. Her hand hovered there for a moment. Right beside it was her black leather coat. Sleek. Sexy. Fitted. And warm. One of the last gifts Jim ever gave her, but the classic cut never went out of style. Only, she hardly ever wore it. She swallowed hard, curling her toes within the heeled pumps and grabbed the leather coat, sliding her arms through it as she and Chris exited her house. She turned, locking the door behind her as the crisp February air kissed her face.
“That’s a beautiful coat,” Chris said, opening the passenger car door for her. “Is it vintage?’
She smiled. “That’s a phrase my kids would use,” she teased. “Sure. I guess it’s categorized as vintage. Except it wasn’t when I first bought it. I’ve owned it for twenty-five years.”
And it still fits. Well, it was a little snugger around the middle, but even so, she was pretty proud of that fact.
He walked around to the driver’s side and slid in, starting the car. “It’s in beautiful shape.”
They arrived at Jolie only a few minutes later and as they entered the restaurant, dread filled Marty’s belly. Despite their amazing kiss in her kitchen. And despite the easy conversation and the way he made her laugh, this just felt… wrong. A first date on Valentine’s Day at the same restaurant she and Jim had their first date. Even though the space had been updated through the years and the old wallpaper from decades ago was now stripped and painted over with a soft heather gray, it was still their Jolie. Hers and Jim’s. Not hers and Chris’s. It was the restaurant Jim would always take her to on date nights.
A lump caught in her throat and she jumped as Chris placed his hand at the small of her back.
“Name?” A girl around the same age as Marty’s youngest daughter asked at the front of the restaurant.
“Oh, um, Marty Tripp. I talked to Francois earlier today—”
“Marty!” The thickly accented voice called to her from the back of the house and made her jump as he came rushing toward her, kissing her on each cheek. “I was thrilled when you called me today! You never come around anymore.”
“That’s not true, Francois.” She smiled up at her old friend, easily fifteen years her senior. “Francois, this is Chris. He’s a doctor at the hospital where I work.”
Francois slid her a curious look, but his smile was easy as he took Chris’s hand. “I didn’t realize doctors took out their nurses on Valentine’s Day.” He gave Marty a wink. Even though she knew the banter was playful, she couldn’t ignore the sense of unease that slithered down her spine.
“They don’t,” Chris said. “But I think we both know Marty is not your average Maple Grove nurse.”
“We do know that, indeed,” Francois said as Marty felt her blush deepen.
“I’ve heard amazing things about your restaurant,” Chris added.
“You better have! My son mostly runs it these days. I’m more of just a figure head now. But C’est la vie, non?” Francois gave two quick claps. “Come! Follow me. Your table awaits.”
As they made their way through the restaurant, Chris slid his hand into Marty’s, lacing his fingers with hers. She jerked her gaze to meet his simmering brown eyes as he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
His lips were silky and soft against her hand and the feel of that kiss against her knuckles eased her nerves as well as promised of something delicious to come. Even more delicious than Francois’ escargot and steak tartare.
They followed Francois to the back of the restaurant where a small two-person table was adorned with a white linen tablecloth, a candle, a vase of gardenias in the center, and rose petals sprinkled across the table. Chris nodded at Francois who, ever the gentleman, bowed as they sat. “Enjoy your meal.”
Chris ran his fingers across the gardenia petal and eyed Marty curiously. “It seems I’m not the only person who’s aware of your love of this flower.”
Marty smiled, chewing her lip and ignoring the tightness in her chest at the memory. “Francois and I have been friends a long, long time. I hope that’s not a problem for you.”
Chris shook his head no. “Not in the slightest.” Then, he cleared his throat, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. The soft linen wrinkled beneath his weight and he held her gaze carefully, adding, “Marty, I know you have history here. A long history. I’m not trying to replace that or take anyone’s place. But… I like you. I’ve liked you for some time at the hospital and I just want to get to know you better. If that’s alright?”
