Then There Was You(69)

She reached out and touched my hand. “That’s all I ask of you,” she sang in return, using my own joke against me.

I laughed, shocked by how easy and comfortable I felt around her, as she was with me.

What was it about her smile that sent a bolt of lightning through my fucking heart?

I stood up, holding out my arm for her. She linked her arm with mine, and I escorted her from the quaint little restaurant, feeling a burst of pride for the beautiful woman I had by my side.





“You look stunning, by the way,” I told her softly, as we walked down the aisles of the theater toward our seats. “I know I told you at the airport, but I just thought you deserved to hear it again.”

“Thank you,” she purred, just before I caught her gaze. It took everything within me not to reach up and touch her blushing cheeks.

It was crazy how not so long ago I was still pining over Kaitlyn. Now, I hadn’t thought of her in… Shit, how long has it been? I couldn’t even remember.

After years of musical success under my belt, I was starting to feel this gnawing edge of something missing. Over the years women had come and gone, but none had quite made an impact like Salem had. I worried that if I pursued what I was feeling that things would change between us… that things wouldn’t be the same as they were so many years ago, or as they were now. I valued this friendship that we seemed to be making and I didn’t want to fuck that up. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny this overwhelming attraction I had for her, or these crazy as hell feelings I felt for her. And if I were being honest with myself, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deny them.

I cautiously snaked my arm around her waist as we made our way to our seats. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds or push things too quickly. Thankfully, she curled into me, and for a moment I considered ditching the show to take her back to my hotel room, but I had more respect for her than that.

This woman made me think and do things I had never considered or done before. Hell, I was about to sit through a two and a half hour show that I cared absolutely nothing about just to see her fucking smile.

We took our seats close to the front. I was lucky to pull a little weight and at the right price, score a couple of seats, front and center. I wanted this night to be perfect for her.

“I’m so excited,” she whispered as the lights dimmed. Her smile lit up her whole face, and I saw a glimpse of what she must’ve looked like as a little girl. It almost made me sad as I wondered what it would’ve been like to know her then—to know her before she attached herself to that piece-of-shit husband and wasted all those great years on him.

Sitting back into the velvet-covered seat, I watched her for the whole first act. I don’t think she noticed because her eyes were glued to the stage. Every smile, every blink, every frown. I saw it all. And as the first tear fell, I reached out to her and grazed a thumb across the back of her hand. She sniffled and gave me a timid half-grin.

Two words came to mind. Worth it. Every second spent in those two and half hours was worth it.





I lay in bed that night thinking of the possibilities and chiding myself for the crazy feelings bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. I tried to stuff them down—the warm, fuzzy emotions. These feelings are wrong, I argued with myself.

But, the feelings were real. And if I wasn’t mistaken he was feeling them too. I saw the way he looked at me. I was so confused. I didn’t know what to do. Why did I come here? What was I thinking? You’re here because you like him, and you know it, Salem!

I drifted off to sleep, trying to convince myself otherwise.

The next morning I awoke to a knock on the door.

“Room service,” a female voice called.

I jumped up and grabbed the robe off the hook on the door, sliding my arms into the sleeves and tying a knot in the belt.

I opened the door to a cart full of silver domed plates. A friendly smile greeted me. “Breakfast, ma’am,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said.

The worker rolled the cart into my room. “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?”

I looked at the abundance of items on the cart. “No, thank you.” I quickly looked around the room for my purse. Grabbing it off the chair, I reached into my wallet for a tip.

“Oh, no ma’am. Mr. King has the tip covered. Thank you. Please ring the front desk when you’re finished with your meal. I will come and get the cart.”

“Oh okay,” I nodded. “Well, thank you very much…” I said, looking at her name tag, “Juanita.”

She smiled, “You’re very welcome, ma’am.”

I followed Juanita to the door, and held it open for her as she left. A few doors down I heard her stop by one of the rooms where some ladies where busy changing sheets and replacing towels. I could hear their indistinct chatter echoing down the hall. I clicked the remote to turn on the television.