Close To You: Part 1 Read online

  "Thank you sir!" the waiter said, slipping the note in his pocket in a flash.

  They left, and Julian Hunter opened every door for her like a true gentleman. A sleek, black Lincoln MKS sat outside. The driver got out, opened the back door for them.

  "Do you want a ride home?" Hunter asked her.

  Scarlet didn't hesitate to accept the offer, and slid into the back seat. Hunter went around the other side and got in. The driver peeled away from the curb and navigated the afternoon traffic.

  "It was a really great lunch," Julian Hunter told her. "I'd like to do it again some time."

  "Me too," she said.

  The driver glanced back at them. "Where to, Mr. Hunter?"

  Scarlet told him her address. She watched Hunter press a button, sending a screen up between them and the driver.

  "There you go, a bit of privacy," he said.

  "You didn't have to drop me home," she said. "It's really nice of you."

  Hunter shrugged. "Don't mention it."

  "I'd love to do this again. I don't suppose you get much free time."

  "I'm actually free the next couple of days. I'm in town for some business meetings. I don't want to be too forward with you," Hunter said.

  "Not at all," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

  They came to the crossing before her street. The Lincoln slowed to a stop at the lights.

  "This Saturday? About six in the evening? I know a great little place down by the beach," Hunter said. "I could come by, pick you up outside if you want."

  "I can make my own way, I don't want to put you out," Scarlet said.

  He put his hand on hers. It was a purely friendly act, nothing implied by it. But still she felt the hairs stand on end at the back of her neck. "Honestly, it's my pleasure."

  The car moved again and Hunter's hand left hers. "That'd be really nice."

  He smiled. "Then it's a date."

  The driver pulled up outside her block.

  "Well, this is me," Scarlet said.

  Hunter leaned forward. She thought he was going in for a kiss, but he took her hand in his again, lifted it to his mouth and kissed it instead.

  "Goodbye," he said softly.

  She felt the colour rush to her cheeks. The driver opened the door for her.

  "Bye," she said, and got out.

  She walked inside her apartment block and when she turned back in the doorway, the Lincoln was still sat there. She realised that Hunter had watched her walk away. She called the lift to take her to her floor.

  Wearing the black number with the red heels to accentuate her legs and behind had been the right decision after all.

  9.

  "You're crazy," James said. She'd gone to his place this time, a modest two-bed apartment he shared with his friend Harrison. Thankfully, Harrison was out right now, otherwise she knew he'd been chiming in with his ever-so-precious opinion.

  She couldn't stand Harrison.

  Scarlet shrugged. "Well, that's your opinion."

  "You can get any man you want. Yet you go out, pick up these losers who ditch you the morning after," James said. He handed her a mug of tea. At home her friend was strictly a tea man. Herbal, fruit. Green tea. Relaxing stuff. "And now you're online, hooking up with cheesy billionaires."

  "He's not cheesy. And besides, he's not a billionaire. At least I don't think so," Scarlet admitted. "Then again, he might be."

  James sniggered. "See?"

  "What?"

  "You don't even know what he is. What if he turns out to be some kind of crook? A date raper."

  Scarlet frowned. "A what?"

  "Someone who, you know, takes you on a date, spins you a load of crap, gets you to meet up again . . . and wham! Rape time. It happens. I've heard about it," James said.

  She chuckled, shook her head, and sipped her tea. "A fucking date raper. Well, I've heard it all now."

  James rolled his eyes.

  "Look, I met the guy. He seems lovely. He's like somebody out of 90210. Lush. And I'm meeting him again, whether you agree with it or not, prissy pants," Scarlet said.

  "Prissy pants?" James asked her. "What sort of insult is that?"

  She shrugged. "Dunno. But it's better than date raper, I know that much."

  He pointed a finger at her. "Date rapers are real. A fucking prissy pants . . . well, it just isn't. And anyway, it's all getting off the subject. I worry about you being okay because I don't want you to get hurt."

  "I know you don't, and I won't," Scarlet assured him. "Honestly, he's a really nice guy. The nicest I've been out with for a long while. Maybe ever."

  James just shrugged. "So long as you're sure . . ."

  10.

  The day Scarlet was due to meet Julian Hunter she had a deliveryman buzz her to let him in. She waited at her front door as he stepped out of the lift carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.

  "Wow," she said.

  "Miss Clarke?" the deliveryman asked her. She nodded and he handed her a clipboard to sign. She gave it back. "Thanks. This is yours."

  She took the mass of flowers inside and closed the door behind her. She'd started to tidy the apartment, and for once there was a nice place to put the flowers. The thought of Hunter maybe coming to her apartment had crossed her mind, and it had spurred her on to finally tidy everything up, make it all smell nice and clean. She had a nice place when she cleaned it up and sorted through all the crap she had everywhere.

  She had a vase in the cupboard under the kitchen sink, so she got that first, filled it with water and put it on the little dining table she had. The flowers were nearly too big for it, but when she stepped back it looked magnificent. A mass of green stems and cream coloured flower heads. Roses. Lilies.

  "Aww," she said to herself.

  There was a brief note attached to the bouquet.

  Can't wait to see you again. JH

  It made her smile. "Me neither," she said.

  * * *

  Scarlet picked out a pair of white jeans, matched them with some flat sandals and a light blue blouse that showed just enough cleavage. It could drop in the evenings, especially down by the shore if that was really where he planned to take her.

  A part of her still couldn't believe it was really happening. That she'd clicked a link through Facebook, then signed up at some nutty "Meet A Millionnaire!" site. Then, what was even crazier . . . the CEO of an international company had connected with her. And what was more, Julian Hunter was young, charming, breathtakingly hot, and seemed to be genuinely interested in her.

  He was what she needed right then. Something positive.

  Scarlet showered then dried herself in her room, in front of her mirror. She looked at the reflection of her body in the mirror. The breath of cool air through the open window had turned her nipples hard. She ran a hand over her right breast, her thumb over her erect nipple. She thought of Julian Hunter. Closed her eyes. Imagined his hand there, gently squeezing her tit, tweaking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. His free hand at the small of her back. Hunter's hot breath against her neck, his hand dropping from her breast, his fingers tracing the contours of her toned abdomen.

  Then he would find his way to her pelvis, to her vagina. And she would be wet for him already, she would be waiting for him to press against her with his fingers, waiting for him to slip inside. Scarlet would reach down, grab his hand and push him in further.

  She opened her eyes, looked at herself in the mirror, her hand against her pussy.

  "Damn it," she said huskily. She took a deep breath, every sense more enhanced and alive than moments before. "Now I've gotta shower again."

  * * *

  The Lincoln awaited her when she went down to the street at five minutes to six. The driver stood at the ready, and as she approached, he opened the door for her.

  "Evening, Miss," he said and tipped his head.

  "Thanks," Scarlet said and slipped into the back seat. Hunter was there, wearing blue jeans and a crinkly white cotton shirt. H
e leaned toward her and kissed her on the cheek.

  "Hello," he said.

  "Hello again," Scarlet said.

  The driver got back in, started the engine and drove off.

  "Did you get the flowers?"

  She nodded. "Thank you. They were amazing. You didn't have to do that."

  "I wanted to," Hunter said. "I wanted you to know how much I appreciated your company the other day."

  He locked eyes with her. "And I how much I looked forward to tonight. To seeing you again."

  Scarlet smiled, looked away because she couldn't bear to lose herself in the deep green fire of his beautiful eyes anymore. "Stop. Don't be silly."

  He laughed. "I'm not, honest."

  "So, uh, where're we going?" Scarlet asked him.

  "A place called Shore."

  "Shore? Really?" she asked him, almost disbelieving.

  "I know, right? Sounds totally screwy. But that's what it's called. And they do the most amazing food you'll ever eat. It's not a top restaurant or anything. All they serve is beer. But it's real in there, you know?"

  He seemed to be at ease with her now. Relaxed. More himself. Away from the exclusive restaurant, the business suit, and the pretense.

  Tonight, Julian Hunter was just a guy.

  "I know what you mean," Scarlet said. "I'm really looking forward to it. I really appreciate it."

  "I can't believe when I signed up for that site a couple of months back, that I'd meet someone like you," he said. "I thought the first woman I met would be some kind of . . . nut job."

  Scarlet snorted. "Sorry. You caught me off guard!"

  "You know?" Hunter asked, laughing.

  "Well, I sort of signed up on a whim. I was looking through my Facebook and I saw this ad," Scarlet started to say.

  "Me too!"

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. I clicked it, thought, I must be out of my mind, then found myself signing up. I never thought anything would come of it," Hunter said.

  Scarlet happened to look down at his feet. He wore brown leather, low-cut boots. They suited him.

  "I kept checking mine, out of curiosity more than anything," Scarlet said.

  "Well I had a look around every now and then," Hunter said. "But you can tell what people are like. I only had to look at some of their profile pages. Nearly all the women on there are after one thing only. But then I saw yours. It was so different, so honest, I knew I had to make contact."

  "Well, I really don't know what I was doing it for," Scarlet said. "Maybe to meet someone a bit different to the kinds of men I'd usually meet?"

  Hunter licked his top lip. "And, uh, am I different?"

  "Yes. You're like nobody I've ever gone out on a date with before."

  The Lincoln slowed to a stop. She hadn't noticed the trip across town to the seafront. Hunter got out of the car, then leaned in and offered her his hand.

  "Milady?" he asked her. Scarlet took his hand and got out.

  "What about the Lincoln?" Scarlet asked him as they walked away from it. "Is he just going to sit there?"

  Hunter shrugged. "He'll wait for us. Anyway, don't worry about Max. He's stuck on Candy Crush. He won't even notice we're gone."

  * * *

  Hunter wasn't exaggerating when he told her that Shore was on the beach, because it really was. Inside, it had seating for perhaps fifty diners, but they didn't bother with eating inside, although it was nice enough.

  "I only ever come here when it's warm. Eating outside is what makes this place special," Hunter explained.

  Shore had outside seating . . . directly on the beach itself. A path separated the promenade area and the sand. They'd built a decked area directly opposite the restaurant, over the sand with enough space for twelve tables. Each seated two, with a small gas lantern at the centre.

  "I'll go in and order. What d'you want to drink?" Hunter asked her as he pulled a chair out for her.

  "Oh, whatever you're having, I'm not fussy," Scarlet said.

  "What about seafood? Anything you don't like?"

  She shook her head.

  "Okay, I'll be right back," he said. She watched him go, surprised that he'd go anywhere there wasn't table service. And it seemed strange to watch the CEO of an entire company taking her order.

  But still, it was nice. Refreshing. That fits him well, she thought. Much like the warm breeze rushing in off the sea, a hundred yards away from their table, Hunter was a breath of fresh air. She knew what he meant about only eating there when it was warm enough to sit outside. It was quite magical, and there weren't many people there that evening. It was like they had the entire beach to themselves.

  Hunter returned carrying two tall beers.

  "That's surprising," Scarlet said. She thanked him for her drink.

  "How's that?" he asked, sitting down opposite.

  "I took you for a wine man," she said. "I'd have never fit you with a glass of beer."

  He opened his hands, a cheeky grin on his face. At that moment a gust blew in off the surf, ruffling his shirt, exposing more of his tanned chest. He had a slight sprinkle of hair there. "I'm but a simple man."

  She cocked her head to one side, really looked at him. "You know, I think you are. Away from the suit and everything, I mean."

  "Yeah . . ." he said and took a deep breath. Hunter looked away then, out to the sea, the flicker of the little gas lamp casting soft shadow across his features. "It's a blessing and a curse sometimes."

  Before she could ask him what he meant, a waitress came by with their order. Scarlet's eyebrows rose in surprise.

  "I hope that's okay," Hunter said as Scarlet looked down at her fish and chips. "If it's not . . ."

  She shook her head, giggled. "You just surprise me."

  "In a bad way?"

  "No," she said. "In the best way possible."

  He beamed, then he lifted a chip and bit the end off of it. "Aah."

  * * *

  After dinner, they left their plates where they were and walked down to the shoreline.

  "Hey, I thought they didn't have table service here," Scarlet said.

  Hunter shrugged. "They don't. I went in there, made 'em an offer they couldn't refuse," he said in mock Italian-American. A really bad Godfather impersonation.

  She couldn't help but laugh at his playfulness. Was it all just a front? Could he really – possibly – be this nice all the time? Maybe. It wasn't impossible. There had to be men out there like that. She hoped Hunter was one of them.

  "How do you feel about getting your feet wet?" he asked her.

  Hunter gave her his arm, and she held on with one hand as she slipped her shoes off with the other. She rolled her bottoms up so they wouldn't get too wet. Hunter quickly pulled his boots off, tucked his socks in, and tossed them a metre or so up from the water.

  "Aren't you worried someone might steal them?"

  Hunter chuckled as he bent down to roll his jeans up. "They're just boots."

  "Well . . ." she said, and before she could overthink it, threw her shoes up with his.

  Hunter sprang up, offered his arm again. She tucked her arm around his, and together they walked through the whispering sea foam. Despite how warm the weather was, the water was ice cold over their bare feet.

  "This is nice," she said.

  Hunter looked up. The sky was the colour of blue jeans. Darkening toward night. The first few stars poked through the curtain of twilight.

  "It's quiet. I like that," he said. "And I'm in good company."

  "Thanks. Me too. This isn't something I'd have ever done. I didn't even know this place was here," Scarlet said.

  Hunter stopped. The surf rolled around them. Up on the beach, the warm light of the restaurant glowed like a false dusk.

  Hunter took her into his arms. The waves moaned. She gazed up into his green eyes, and with his hands around her waist she'd never felt so safe with anyone before.

  "I really enjoy your company," Hunter said softly. He held her close to him and she
didn't resist. Didn't even think about it. She could smell his strong, sexy scent and found it exhilarating to be so near.

  "Me too," she said.

  "May I?" Hunter asked. He bent down to her and they kissed, the surf freezing cold over their feet, a warm wind off the ocean and only the diamonds in the sky to watch them. Scarlet reached up, held his face as his tongue found hers, exploring one another's mouths. They parted, and they continued to walk along the beach, talking. This time they weren't arm in arm, but hand in hand.

  * * *

  The Lincoln stopped once again outside her apartment block. It was fully dark now.

  "Well here we are again," Scarlet said.

  He reached out, took her hand in his. "Listen, I have had the best time I've had . . . in ages. Honestly. I don't want this to end."

  "Me neither."

  "I'll be travelling for a little while. I don't want to scare you off. I don't want to make it seem I'm too forward," Hunter said. "But would you like to come with me?"

  Scarlet was taken aback. Hunter held up his hands. "Hey, you don't have to give me an answer right now. Think it over."

  She nodded slowly, not sure what to say. "Okay."

  He got out, walked her to the door. They kissed again, but not for too long. She didn't want to ruin a good thing. She'd always moved so fast, it seemed. This time she'd go slower. Make herself wait. Any other time, if he'd wanted to go on up to her apartment right there and then, she would've let him. But with this guy she knew she wouldn't. It'd ruin it.

  Hunter was special, she knew that much. And someone like that, it was worth the wait.

  Or so she hoped.

  He stepped away from her, still holding her hand. Then her fingertips. Then he was walking back to the car, glancing back at her, a smile on his face.

  Scarlet went inside, called the lift and bit her bottom lip in thought.

  The offer had blown her out of the water. What should she do?

  For the first time in her life she didn't have a clue. Her gut told her to be cautious. She didn't know the guy, not really. But her heart said different. The way it had fluttered in her chest as he kissed her goodbye.

  11.

  The next day Scarlet picked up dinner from the store, charging it all to her card. When she got home, she texted James to see if he was at home.