Desire In A Kiss

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Her fingers moved over the phone like rapid fire, preventing her from thinking too much or talking herself out of answering him back. She wasn’t sure of what she’d written until she read it over.

I love music and play several instruments—piano, violin, clarinet and sax also. You seem to be a music lover too.

By the time Serenity wrote, edited, deleted and re-wrote that simple message, she found herself breathing hard, as if typing caused her to exert physical energy. She laid the phone on the side table as if it were hot. Then she laughed. She laughed until tears streamed down her face. What was wrong with her? If she acted this way now, how would she act if she actually met this man in person? That would probably never happen, she thought, waving her hand in the air dismissively.

Serenity picked up her bowl and stabbed a hearty forkful of salad. Midway to her mouth, her phone buzzed again. She paused, steadying the food inches from her open mouth. Her heart rate quickened. She laid the fork in the bowl, carefully placed the bowl back on the table and picked up the phone. As she thought, it was the guy replying to her.

That was quick.

Serenity swiped her way to the message.

Wow! That’s cool. How long have you been playing?

That sparked an instant conversation via the in-app messaging system. Music had always been easy to talk about. The initial pressure she’d anxiously anticipated had quickly waned as their conversation continued. Within the next fifteen minutes, they knew of each other’s music-loving history, favorite musicians and best-rated performances. Comfort had sidled its way into their interaction. The first layer of Serenity’s heavily guarded defense system was down. Music was the Trojan horse.

The two exchanged email addresses, taking the conversation offline. Email was as personal as she was willing to get for now. Offering up her cell phone number wasn’t on the table yet. Perhaps that option would come later, after she’d gotten to know him more—as much as one could get to know someone via email.

When talk of music was temporarily exhausted, Chris treaded into a sea of more personal inquiries—but none too intrusive. He asked about her likes. She told him about her work teaching music to disadvantaged youth but carefully withheld the name of her organization and deliberately failed to mention that she was a founding partner. He mentioned that he sat on the board of a nonprofit organization that served youth. He too avoided naming his company.

He gives back to his community, Serenity deduced from his board involvement. She figured he was also straddling the line of giving just enough information. Technically they were still strangers, so she was fine with that. The conversation turned to family makeup. Serenity explained that she was an only child, initially raised by a single mother, and that she had always wanted sisters. Chris emailed about his three siblings and large lively family and joked about selling his three sisters to her for a nominal fee.

Sense of humor—check! Serenity liked what she seemed to pick up from their exchange. They continued getting to know each other. By the time they ended their email discussion, her curiosity had been thoroughly piqued. He had grown up on the North Shore of Long Island, but she didn’t know where he lived now. He had an MBA, managed a hectic schedule like she did and was family-oriented. Both of them enjoyed traveling abroad and had a desire to visit all fifty states. Still, she wanted to know more. But for now, she let him know it had been great “chatting” with him. He promised to reach out again soon.

And he did—the very next night, and then again the night after that.

Chapter 8 (#u89e3b525-76d0-54fb-b187-5b30021c0034)

Chris hurried to his car, still dripping with the sweat of his workout. He looked forward to going home, getting on the computer and exchanging emails with Serenity. They had communicated in that fashion every day for the past two weeks. Their conversation always made room for talk about music. He did some research, finding her on social media, and viewed what he could of her profiles without being a connection, friend or follower. He liked what he saw.

Serenity’s passion for music and life and her fun-loving nature were the threads woven throughout her online narrative. Chris viewed pictures of her hanging with friends, working with youth and spending time with her mother. One look at the older version of her and he could tell she had inherited her good looks from her mother. Both had beautiful doe eyes that he imagined would compel him to offer her the world with a single bat of her lashes. He learned about her forty-pound weight loss and how it was inspired by her mother’s health scare. Before and after pictures chronicling the journey of both women revealed their curvaceous frames prior to dropping the pounds and showed them looking just as gorgeous in new svelte figures after the weight loss.

Chris could already tell that Serenity had a big heart and wondered how she might respond to the fact that he hadn’t been completely honest about who he was. Purposely, he never asked to connect with her via social media since he, of course, didn’t have any profiles under his partially fictitious name. Chris Mullins was a ghost online. He’d gotten the last name Mullins from his grandparents’ hometown in South Carolina. When she had asked him about his online presence, he’d simply said he wasn’t a fan of social media and with his busy schedule wasn’t sure how he’d find time to engage anyway. Who knew how things would go? Maybe he’d never get the opportunity to even tell her the truth. Yet the more they communicated, the more he wanted to meet her in person. It was quite possible that once they actually spoke or met the intrigue that resulted from only knowing so much about one another would wane. Serenity could be just like the other women he’d been meeting lately. Then he’d be happy that he hadn’t got too close. He decided to see how far this could go. He had time before having to worry about his fictitious identity.

The short ride to and from his gym and home seemed even shorter with his mind on Serenity. He made the trip on autopilot, hardly recalling the route he’d taken. Inside, he washed the sweat off his body with a long hot shower, stepped into sweatpants and sat on the bed.

Chris planned to ask for her number. Would her voice sound the way he imagined, based on her pictures? If she were reluctant, he’d move on. Two weeks of email was enough for him.

After settling in, propped against his headboard, Chris turned on his laptop and launched his email.

How was your day?

Chris reached for the remote and brought the television to life while he awaited her response. He had missed the first half of the basketball game. During a commercial, he refreshed his email and saw that she had responded. A smile eased across his lips. She replied with a quick account of how hectic her day had been. The grant application she had to get in before five o’clock, the students she had to settle a conflict with, and the restaurant she and her friend had to check out to see if it was a good choice for their friend’s bridal shower.

Chris replied with a few details of his busy day at work and the fact that he was happy that he didn’t have to go in to work tonight.

Would it be okay if I called you?

He again wondered what she sounded like. Her reply didn’t come instantly like the others. He smiled, imagining her doe eyes looking at his words with trepidation etched in her expression. He’d wait. He got up, headed to the kitchen and popped the top off a bottle of beer. Taking two swigs before leaving the kitchen, he headed back to the bedroom, sat and placed the PC on his lap.

Serenity sent her number. Chris swallowed another swig of beer before reaching for his cell phone. He dialed. She answered on the first ring.

“Hello.” Her voice was soft but professional—confident. The sound was pleasing—full and feminine.

“It’s nice to hear your voice.” He felt himself smile.

“Is it what you thought it would be like?”

“Better.”

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Mullins?”

At first, Chris was thrown. Mr. Mullins. He’d never actually been called by his fake name before.

“Maybe. I’ve wondered what you sounded like. Now that I know, I like what I hear.” She was blushing and he could feel it. “Did I make you blush?”

“You know how to put a girl on the spot, don’t you?”

“I’m direct.”

“I like that.”

“Are you flirting with me, Ms. Williams?” Chris teased.

“Maybe.”

The two of them laughed. The ice had been broken. They eased into conversation just as smoothly as they had on email. It was as if they’d spoken on the phone all the time. Somehow the conversation moved to pets.

“I would love to have a dog, but I’m just not home enough,” said Serenity.

“Do you like those cute little dogs I see women walking around with in their handbags?”

“Ha! I love those, but if I were to get a dog, I’d want a big one...a husky maybe. I’m one of those small girls that likes big things.”

“Napoleon complex?” Chris willed his thoughts to focus on Serenity’s words and not the innuendos her comment could have suggested. He chuckled. “Do you like big cars too?”

“Yes.” Serenity giggled. “I drive an SUV. How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“I need the space for the kids I work with. I carry loads of stuff in my car.”

Relishing the soothing cadence of her voice, Chris kept the questions coming. It was then that he determined that her name was the perfect fit. He found the sound of her laughter even more titillating and leaned toward a more humorous slant, just to hear it flutter through the phone. Before he knew it, midnight arrived. They’d been talking for almost three hours. He yawned, which prompted him to look at his clock.

“Oh now, Chris. Don’t yawn. It’s—” he heard her yawn in her pause “—contagious!” She laughed. “Please excuse me.”