Something Unexpected Pt. 02

She turned her face to look at me as if considering what answer she should give.

"I don't mind," I said.

"Are you sure? There is so much I was supposed to be doing this weekend. All I need to do is check my emails. I swear."

"No swearing in this house, young lady – unless sex is involved." I winked, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then put on just enough to run outside and grab her laptop.

"And my attaché case in the backseat..." She called after me. I looked back to see her sitting up in bed trying to look innocent.

When I returned a minute later, Isabel was already sitting up in bed with her glasses on waiting – blanket bunched up around her waist. She stayed up until after midnight, allowing me to watch what she was doing - to my relative surprise. There was a lot of confidential stuff going on there, mostly emails back and forth that she was responding to, almost none of which I understood unless she explained it to me. Which, she actually spent a lot of time doing whenever she saw me watching.

"I've never had anyone interested in what I do, much less understand it like you do," she said after a while of this. I smiled and asked her another question. I enjoyed listening to her; I always had, even at work. There is nothing more attractive than an intelligent woman that is passionate about what she does.

I yawned – more than once – before she finally forced herself to shutdown and place her folders and laptop on the floor beside the bed. I held onto her thigh as she reach down so that she kept her balance, and couldn't help but give her a good squeeze, always loving the feel of her skin within my fingers' grasp. She placed her glasses on the nightstand and then slid down in the bed beside me.

Isabel looked up at me with such adoration that I felt oddly subdued. When she reached up and brought my face down to hers I didn't resist. Her mouth worked slowly at first, but then the kiss became more intense, more heated. I pulled back and looked into her eyes, feeling my cock getting harder every second.

"You didn't have to stop for me..."

She looked at me with a renewed passion in her eyes and slid her hand inside my pants. "Oh, yes I did!"

Oh well. Who was I to argue?

***

I remember things. Stupid things.

Like when I passed her in the hall returning from my meeting and she was racing off to hers. A tight lipped smile from both of us was all we had time for – or could allow ourselves the liberty of showing. I couldn't even look at her from behind for fear that someone would see me. It's funny, how even after all we'd done behind closed doors it was still exactly the same at the office.

I know of at least two "couples" that have worked at our company over the years, even met each other there. But they were not working as closely as the two of us, so I don't think they had to be so careful not to show their feelings.

Feelings.

I knew I was starting to feel something more for her; much faster than anyone else before. But where could they lead? People knowing we were a couple? I hate to admit it, but I doubted she would even be able to show her face around the place – and who knows what they would have thought about me. No doubt that I was sleeping with her for all the wrong reasons.

That is how it was at the office every day. The brief looks we shared that only we could decipher; while at the same time juggling the thousand and one things that kept our jobs moving smoothly. The only other awkwardness was when she asked me to do something for her which seemed out of the norm just to help her out; or due to some admin slip-up, I needed her advice or assistance with something – or someone. That was when we were both all business, and the roles we played in bed shifted immensely. There were times I could almost forget that this was the ravenous woman that had allowed me to kiss her all over unto ecstasy the night before, so adamant she would be about her opinion – and me having to accept it regardless.

Over the next few weeks, she had started staying at my place at least two or three times a week, and the entire weekend. I thought it stupid that she continued traveling all the way to her house an hour away, talking to me on the phone three times a night, when she could have stayed with me every night.

I missed her when she wasn't there. I had felt a little of that with a couple of women over the years, but nothing like I felt toward Isabel – even though I saw her every day. I would come across a pair of her nylons mixed in with my underwear, or a notepad in the kitchen drawer with scribbles only she could decipher.

Flings were not supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to have been about sex; but if that was the case, then why is it I hated to see her go – even after those times when we were both too tired to make love at all?

There were definitely other unexpected benefits though; because, that refrigerator was never so well stocked until after she'd started shopping with me. We would travel fifteen miles away to a rinky dink grocers just so we could do it together. Both of us were always on the lookout for someone from work, and since she knew many more of them, it was her that took on the stress much more than me. I would tease her about the baggy sweaters and sunglasses, and even silly hats she would wear on these outings – anything to keep people from seeing it was her. But then I would enjoy so much the sessions we would have back at my place undressing her completely.

I convinced her to go away with me in mid-November; just a three hour drive so that no one would know us and we could be ourselves for once. There was nothing planned, just a nice comfortable inn that served continental breakfast next door – and included a jetted tub of course.

I was quiet on the way up, not wanting to interrupt her as she worked on her laptop beside me. She talked non-stop though, both to me and the non-present "jerks" that sent her one email or another needing more info about the same thing – again and again. She was adorable sitting there in jeans and sneakers. A thin tight sweater that showed off her attributes all too well and made it even harder to concentrate on driving. She had insisted we take her car, and surprisingly she seemed rather comfortable with me in the driver's seat after just a short while. When she told me she never let anyone drive her cars, it made me swell with pride.

We saw a movie that Saturday night. Something with Keanu Reeves and the one from Baby Boom; the one with the glasses. There was a scene where he and she got it on towards the end and I admit it, I was turned on – but I was also extremely anxious watching that going on. Isabel's fingers were entwined with mine – the popcorn long gone by then – and each of us had a hand on the other's leg. A few people had looked at us earlier, noting our age differences, so both of us were attempting to be on our best behavior now. I didn't have the courage to look at her and see what she might be thinking but I found out soon enough after the movie was over.

She laughed, burying herself into me as we hurried back to her car, the night bitterly cold.

"What did you think of the movie?" she asked.

"It was good. Made me a little mad though. Towards the end." I took a chance, but I was never one to hide my true feelings.

"I know. She should have kept Keenoo, instead of that old goat Jack Nicholson!"

I smiled at how she said his name, but also because she agreed with me.

"So if you were her, you would have chosen the young sexy doctor instead of a mature lady-killer like Jack?"

She grinned and leaned toward me. I saw her eyelashes fluttering behind her frames. "So are you the young sexy doctor, or are you just seeing a young sexy doctor on the side?"

"I'm seeing a very sexy someone that makes me feel like that young sexy doctor," I responded.

She sat back up. "Good answer."

It was one of those weekends you never want to end. No pressure, no awkward silences; she worked a little, but mostly we just spent our time looking in shops and eating – both our favorite pastimes out of the bedroom.

She only stayed a few minutes at my place when we got back Sunday afternoon. Laundry to do, prepare for the work week, etc. I was sorry to see her go, and stood there looking like a lost puppy as she waved to me when leaving my development.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was a few days before Thanksgiving now. Isabel had marked on her Outlook that she would be preparing all afternoon for a meeting that week – from home – so not to disturb her. I had put in for the afternoon off to go to the dentist and then just head home.

We spent the entire afternoon making love in my bed.

We were relaxing, with my head resting on her chest this time, and an arm and leg draped over her body beneath the warm damp sheets. She spent the time sifting her fingers through my matted hair, while I traced mine up and down the other side of her body – from hips to shoulder and then back again.

I had never been with a woman where the sex was awesome every time. I think that very thought was going through my mind when she spoke up.

"I have to go away next week."

"I know."

"I've already put in for it you know. I could just stay here with you."

"I would love that, but I know you can't."

"Not really. My sister and her family would kill me."

"I understand."

"Are you going home for Thanksgiving?"

"No. My family isn't big on it. So I stopped years ago."

"Oh."

We were quiet for a few minutes before I added, "Call me though. If you get lonely."

She laughed. "There will be over twenty at dinner itself. I doubt I'll get a chance to even be alone, much less lonely."

"OK."

She was quiet for a few seconds but then squeezed me hard. "I think I'll call you."

And so I squeezed her back.

***

Thanksgiving was definitely different that year. I had my football to watch with my friend and his wife and my reading to catch up on, and even a movie to see at the theater, as well as some Christmas shopping to do. But spending every waking moment with a woman like Isabel was enough to make any man go through withdrawal when she was gone.

She called me every night as she lay in bed at her sister's house and everyone had gone to sleep. And even called me once right after Thanksgiving dinner to wish me a Happy Holiday. I told her in jest what would make me happy and she just got quiet on me before giving me the info for her flight again.

I met her at BWI that Saturday night after Thanksgiving. She looked tired, but she also looked so good. Tight jeans and winter boots, with one of those black stretch turtleneck tops that made it look like even she was a C-cup.

We kissed right there in the terminal, our first actually in public, but we made it as brief as possible – both of us searching the crowd immediately afterward.

She was exhausted that night from the flight. We had planned it from BWI so that I could get her to her home sooner, but she opted to come straight back to my place instead. I was delighted of course.

Isabel went to sleep a little after eight, and I got in bed with her after cleaning up dinner. I just held her in my arms as she slept, and found that her soft breathing was enough to put me to sleep in no time as well. It was the first good night's sleep I'd had in a week.

***

"I told my sister about you."

Isabel had blurted it out while we were walking down the grocery aisle looking for that wild rice she loved. I could tell all morning that there was something eating away at her, even after I'd made her climax in the shower in hopes that she would forget whatever it was.

"You did?"

I was surprised, as she had been determined not to let anyone know about us at all. She still wore sunglasses in the store just in case someone from work happened to be way out here in the middle of nowhere shopping for peas.

"It wasn't intentional. Or maybe it was. I don't know." She reached for a box of those horrid instant potatoes neither of us liked, tossing them in the cart as she kept on walking. I put them on the next shelf the moment she wasn't looking.

"How much did you tell her? Or would you rather not say?"

"If I didn't, then I wouldn't be telling you would I?" she snapped at me without raising her voice at all. She immediately stopped herself and turned toward me, gripping my forearm and giving a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sorry."

I just winked, leaned in and kissed her rosy cheek, and then started pushing the cart again.

"It's the same conversation every year. Only this time it happened before dinner instead of while all us girls were cleaning up after. She just wouldn't let up on me still being single." She could see the look on my face, as if to say, why do you put up with a family like that? "She means well. She's five years older than me, but like a mother hen now since our parents are both gone."

Isabel turned her face away and I peered around to see that it was hard as stone, but no tears running down her face. Yet.

I hadn't really known about her family at all until she mentioned Thanksgiving. Although, I did vaguely remember her leaving for a funeral a couple of years back. Was it her mother, or father? Mother I believed.

We didn't talk again for a few minutes, but I was able to find that rice and held it up for her to see.

"Get more than one this time," she said. She stepped behind me and put her arms around my torso, pressing her head into my shoulder. I grabbed three more boxes and tossed them in the cart. "Be careful of the eggs, Dear!"

I laughed and twisted my body so that I could put one arm around her as we pushed the cart together now.

"The whole world could be coming down and you could still be your cute little bossy self," I exclaimed. I felt her snuggle into me.

"Fine. Don't come crying to me when you get home with broken eggs then."

I pulled her closer, squeezing her in that thick winter coat of hers. "Nah. I'd just send you back out to get some more, my darling Isabel."

"The hell you would. Your 'darling Isabel' might just tell you what you can do with those eggs if you're not careful." She smiled weakly and bumped her left hip against mine, nearly throwing me into an oncoming cart.

We made it all the way to the frozen foods before we spoke about anything other than dinner or the next few meals. Consensus was that neither of us really cared all that much about the food anyway at the moment, but we went through the pretense anyway.

"What are we doing here?" she asked softly.

"I don't know. Just seemed like we needed some ice cream to me. At least one of us does." I grinned and stuck out my tongue.

"Us. Where is this going?" She had stopped and had her arms folded in front of her. I couldn't see her eyes because of those damned sunglasses, so I didn't know if she were looking at me or a million miles away.

"Where do you think it's going?" I asked.

She started playing with her earring, a sure sign she was troubled. "Someplace -dangerous."

I frowned and walked back over to where she stood, leaving the cart in the middle of the aisle.

"Dangerous? How?"

"Dangerous for me." I could see she was looking into my eyes now, so I reached up and took her sunglasses off. To my relief she was not crying, but she looked very tired.

"Let's talk when we get outside, Honey."

She almost cringed when I called her that. "Every time you call me that, every time, it just hurts all over again."

"What? What is the matter, Isabel?"

She looked down and stared at my chest while collecting her thoughts. "Am I really your 'Honey'?" she asked. "I mean really?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Of course you are. How can you even ask me something like that?"

She just shook her head emphatically before going on. "I don't mean for now. I mean ... I mean..."

I was quite for a few seconds, unsure of hot to respond and feeling suddenly caught off guard. "I don't know what to say to that. You are always hiding from someone, even now. You want me to lay it all out, right here at the store, and let you know how I feel about you? Tell you how hard it is for me to come home and you not be there for even one night? Or come into work and have to keep the entire world fooled?" I held up my arms in frustration and walked back to the cart.

But angrily grabbed two Cherry Garcia's on my way by.

***

I knew Isabel, so I knew that she would only take as long as the car before bringing it up again. And I knew exactly how I felt. The problem was I was afraid of how she would treat me after knowing for sure. I had come close, not this close, but close on two previous occasions. And both times I had laid my feelings on the line only for it to fizzle out for one reason or another very shortly after. It was like, say I love you and the whole relationship suddenly goes to pot!

And now, this woman. This amazing, incredible, girl of my dreams woman, was asking me to do just that. And after only three months. I decided to nip it in the bud.

"OK. You want to know how I feel?" She nodded, but stared straight ahead as we drove down that two lane highway. "Alright. This is how I feel. I think that no matter what I say, it won't make a difference anyway."

Isabel twisted her in seat and looked at me incredulously. "Why wouldn't it make a difference?"

I took a deep breath and glanced at her before continuing. "What are you going to do when the shit hits the fan? And they all find out about us? Are you going to let them say what they want? Deny it? Quit? I've been thinking about that for weeks now it seems. And I for one don't have an answer. I can speak for me, but not for you. But then, you have so much more to lose."

She turned away immediately and looked out the side window. I realized as soon as I'd said it, that she had not thought about it at all; she had just been thinking about us – as if I were the one responsible for our relationship not moving forward at some predetermined pace. It was her that had approached me – and for sex – so I thought. Yet she was clearly as wrapped up into us as I was.

But I also knew how she felt about it. There was no way in hell she was going to let people find out and be the talk of so much gossip. She'd made it clear to me on far too many occasions. And to be honest, I understood that. I'd understood that from the beginning. But the mind and the heart play terrible games with a person. And despite all those times, I still felt that deep down, there was hope.

Sometimes, I think hope is a very bad thing.

We rode in silence all the way back to my place, and even though she allowed me to hold her hand when I finally had the courage to do so again, she did not reciprocate like she normally would. She just kept staring out the side window, as if I was not even there.

I helped her pack her things that afternoon. Not just the usual items she carried back and forth, but everything. Even the little blanket with the puppy dogs on it that she used when sitting on the couch to watch TLC and work on her laptop every night. I know now that I should have been more assertive and refused to let her go, but a part of me kept saying that we were never supposed to have ended up together. It was after all – just a series of afternoon delights, right?

As strange as it sounds, after I closed the trunk and opened the door to her car for her to get in, she stopped and crushed herself against me. We stood like that for about a minute. Not long, but long enough for my ears to start freezing from the bitter cold. I wanted to kiss her. To carry her back inside and tell her that whatever happened, we could make it work. But before I gathered enough nerve, she gave me one last squeeze and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. I pressed my lips against the corner of her mouth and just inhaled her scent – for what I believed would be the last time.