"You smell like roses."
Those were the first words that Brad said to me when I met him.
I had known him for almost four months at that time but our "relationship", if that was the word for it, had been limited to phone calls, e-mails, and the occasional meeting/conference. It came to me that he possessed the kind of dry humor that appealed to me. The first time that I saw him laugh, part of me began to pray that he wasn't in a relationship. Then again, that had not stopped me before. I was relatively new to this new world of dating, having just divorced my husband of nearly twenty years, and was a bit of a chicken when it came to making it known that I liked someone. While my affair with John had brought me out of my shell and awakened me to the desires of my own flesh, this was all very new to me.
We both worked for the same company, contracted to the government, albeit at different ends of the country. He was born and raised in San Diego and had never left the west coast before coming to Washington. A new contract would bring us together, his "street" experience and my technical know-how seemed to have made for a very good business relationship. I was relatively new to the DC area myself, moving to the region from Tennessee only eight months previously so our awkwardness would have been another thing that should have drawn us together. However, after four months, scarcely a word was said to each other that wasn't business related.
That would change when we were sent with a group to North Carolina to investigate a claim. I'd be lying if I didn't say that as I sat on the plane to Raleigh-Durham International that I was hoping we would become better acquainted with each other. Unfortunately, as fate had it, he sat four rows back of me. I did look behind me a few times to steal a glance at him. On one occasion, his blue eyes met mine. His short, curly auburn hair was perfectly trimmed and the faintest shadow of hair on his face gave him a very Gerard Butler-bad boy look that I am sure any woman would find desirable. His half-smirked smile was one of his most alluring features, carrying with it a hint of mischief that only added to the allure. I brushed my hair behind my ear, returned his smile, and played it cool by turning around slowly before exploding into school girl giggles as I raised my book up to begin reading.
We'd arrived at the airport and dropped our bags off at our hotel to freshen ourselves up before meeting at a coffee shop that we had been asked to come to in order to meet our local "contact".
I saw Brad through the coffee shop window, talking into his cellphone, as I walked in. He had not purchased anything yet and thought if I bought his coffee that it would be a great ice breaker. I walked up to the counter and purchased two coffees before walking to where he was sitting and I waited patiently as he continued his phone call. While I spent the first minute or so trying to think of a witty opening line, I became distracted by the t-shirt he wore. His dress was very casual, that damned t-shirt was dark grey, very fitted, and accentuated his chest's features well. It was obvious that he worked out and was in shape.
I noticed that his conversation had become quite tense before he realized I was standing within reach of his voice. He hung up and looked at me with a look of both annoyance and mild frustration. "Yes?" he asked.
"Uh," I stammered, not prepared for this response to my presence, "I bought you a coffee."
He stared into my eyes as he stood up and took both cups from my hands, his right hand brushed mine very slightly, not that he noticed. I certainly did. As he stood, I smelled him. It was a combination of Irish Spring and Drakkar, both of which drove me crazy for some reason. He proceeded to set the cups down and pulled out the chair for me. As I sat down, I looked in his direction trying to catch a glimpse of those gorgeous blue eyes.
His mouth curved and broadened into a smile as he took his seat. He shook his head and apologized to me. I knew him well enough to know that he was troubled and as I asked him what was wrong, I was not prepared for his answer.
"My daughter misses me." he spoke thoughtfully before pausing for a second.
My heart jumped into my throat and sank instantly. Of course, he's married. He also has a daughter. Just as disappoint began to set in, he continued.
"Her mother won't let her come to visit when I get back to DC." he growled, "She's playing hardball, playing with my emotions unless I agree to get back together with her."
"So you're divorced?" I nodded in acceptance of what he was saying.
"Not nearly," he joked, "Never married. We were together for seven years, through college and my three years in the NFL but she accepted my proposal. After my daughter was born, we stayed together for her."