I nodded. "Okay. I'll change and meet you down there in five minutes."
I went back inside, set my glass on the kitchen counter, and checked on Rob, who was fast asleep. Gotta be a mom first. I taped a note to his door that said, "At the pool-Mom." Then I quickly changed into my white bikini with red hearts all over it, piled my hair on the top of my head, grabbed a towel and the key to the pool, and tiptoed down to the pool in the quiet night. Although units surrounded the pool, some with lights on, some without, it felt like everyone had gone to bed and we were all alone outside.
Jake paced on the coping at the edge of the pool, wearing his t-shirt and long, dark blue swim trunks. He didn't see me approaching.
As I walked toward the pool fencing, he reached behind his head and pulled at the neck of his t-shirt, taking it off, and I responded physically.
Oh my.
My neighbor looked dapper in his suits. But out of one? Now that was really something to talk about. A fit guy, his chest muscular, his stomach flat, he didn't so much look like a bodybuilder, but rather a guy who simply kept in good shape. I gaped at his soft-looking skin, not as tan as mine. I wanted to touch him, everywhere. He turned toward me and saw me, his dark eyes catching mine in the half-lit night. My eyes went to his chest. A little bit of hair, not much, a little bit of hair below his belly button, extending into the low waistband of his swim trunks, not much. Just right. His broad shoulders and narrow waist formed that classic triangle. Toned arms and broad pectoral muscles rounded out the view.
Yummy.
All I wanted to do was nestle myself into his arms and see what his chest felt like against my cheek, what his nipple felt like on my tongue, what his back felt like when I clawed at it.
Instead, as he watched me, I set my towel on a chaise lounge, took off my heeled sandals, and dipped a toe into the pool, which registered as a comfortable, warm temperature.
Then I turned around, away from him, and walked to the shallow end, feeling his eyes on my ass the whole time. I grinned to myself. If you got it, flaunt it. I wiggled in, and dog paddled over to where he stood on the side of the pool.
"Are you going to come?" I asked, blatantly embracing the innuendo.
"Yeah." He smirked and dove into the pool next to me, splashing me and making me squeal, surfacing at the other end of the pool. He took off underwater and came right next to me, under the surface, pulling me down by my ankles.
"Jake! No! I don't want to get wet!" I protested, wiggling around. He breached the surface like a mer-god in the middle of my squeals and grabbed me by my waist. He was so much bigger than me, but having him so close, wet and muscular? And playful? Hot damn.
"You're in the pool," he laughed. "You are going to get wet." Yeah, that had already happened every time I thought of him.
"My hair!"
"It's beautiful."
"But I don't want to get it wet." I never put my face in the water either, not wanting to wash off my makeup.
"Okay," he relented, taking pity on me. Instead, he pulled me in close to him and kissed me, our bodies wet and close together, those muscles holding me tight. With only a thin layer of clothing separating us, I could feel him on my belly and I could tell that he was starting to get ideas.
More yummy.
He broke apart. "You are so fucking pretty, Lucy. I don't know what comes over me. I can't keep my hands off of you."
"You don't have to," I gasped.
He held me in the water by my waist. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his hardness against me, reveling in it, and he groaned. "You share custody of Rob?" he asked, sucking on my neck.
Rob, Rob who? Then I chastised myself. God, what kind of mom was I? But Jake absorbed all of my attention when I was with him. "Yeah, every other weekend his dad gets him." I ran my hands through Jake's thick, wet hair. He kissed my nose and looked at me.
"Then I'm looking forward to this weekend."
Me too.
The following evening, after dinner, dishes, and Rob's bedtime, I heard the knock and opened my front door to Jake in a dark blue business suit paired with a sober red- and blue-striped tie, holding a bottle of wine. Since it was past his newly usual seven or eight o'clock visit time, I'd dressed for bed in a white tank top, with no bra, and cute, pink pajama short shorts. I hadn't wanted to admit that I was waiting around for him, so I had gone about my night as usual.
Though I still had my makeup on. So okay, I wanted more than just research for my book. I liked the guy.
The night before, after swimming and making out in the pool, we somehow tore apart from each other and ended up back in our separate homes, in our separate beds. I didn't know what he did in his bed, but I sure know what I did in mine.
Tonight, tired, leaning against the doorjamb, his coat swinging, he gave me that thrill that he was taking the time to see me, even though he worked so much. As much as this excited me, however, I still felt the need to be cautious. I didn't know him and I was wary to invest too much in pleasing a guy. I got so epically burned pleasing Carlos. While I leaned against the doorjamb under him, he noticed my scantily dressed body, then shook his head and blinked.
"I have a lot of clients who bring me samples as gifts," he said in his low voice, "but this one I thought you would like." He handed me a bottle of Santa Barbara chardonnay.
"Thank you," I said, happily cradling the wine.
"I was thinking that you could chill it and we could drink it tomorrow night," he continued. "I should be able to get out of the office earlier tomorrow. By earlier, I mean earlier than," he looked at his watch, "nine forty-five."
"That sounds great-" I started and his fucking phone sounded.
He let out a breath, pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at it, and muttered, "Fuck." He gave me an apologetic look. "I have to take this but I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sorry." Leaning in, he brushed his lips against mine. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and closed the door behind him. I heard him answer the phone as he crossed the way over to his unit and unlocked his door.
The sound of his door shutting made my brain click into place.
What was I doing?
I didn't want to be second place to a phone call. No way in hell would I be a convenient booty call for a guy with no time for me. Alarm bells rang in my head because I did not want my self-esteem hanging on whether a man thought I was worthwhile. I knew I was worthwhile. I'd spent the last twelve years building my own self-esteem about my body and my choices so that I knew this deep down in my soul. I wasn't going to sit around all day and wait for him to come to me when he thought it was time to see me.
That said, he was just so goddamned pretty and playful when he wasn't working, it was hard not to. I felt really, really, really pulled to him. And he said he felt the same way. Otherwise, why was he even making the attempt to see me?
So apparently I was just sitting around waiting for him to come to me, under the circumstances.
I padded down the hall, turning off lights, and started washing off my makeup, thinking it had been never since I let a man see me without makeup. I got into my bed to read, but I put my e-reader down and thought about it.
I liked Jake. I also saw how little time he had for me.
If a man is into you, he makes time for you no matter what he does and no matter how busy he is.
But Jake seemed to be trying hard to make time for me, despite the fact that he was phenomenally busy. And I liked it.
So I didn't know how to take this. I decided to sleep on it. I turned my e-reader on, face clean, hair up, and started reading.
The following morning, no brilliant conclusion had come to me overnight. As I showered and dressed, I realized that I had to proceed with caution, not get overly attached to responses or attention from Jake, and have fun and see what happened.
That evening, Rob sat on the porch with me, drinking milk, while I sipped a sparkling water in a glass, looking at the lights on the surface of the pool.
"How you doing in school, mijo?"
"Good," he answered.
"Not good enough of an answer for your mama," I returned. "What's that mean?"
"I got a ninety-three on my spelling test, a ninety-five in math, and an eighty-nine in social studies."
I nodded. "Those are good grades. But numbers and data aren't everything. How are your friends?"
"Good," he answered.
When I looked at him, he kept going. "Cody is fine and he likes to play Minecraft too. So does Ramón."
"And your teacher?"
"She's nice."
I nodded. "What do you have coming up in school?"
"Winter pageant and then we have to get started on our science fair project."
With kids, sometimes you had to press them, otherwise you would just get yes/no answers. But when they started talking, that was where you could find the gold.
It was time for him to go to bed and I went inside and tucked him in. I decided to get out Jake's wine, and, feeling optimistic, I got out two glasses to go with it. If he didn't come by, I'd still have a drink by myself.