Stay With Me Now

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

IVY

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MY EYES WIDEN. Tell him everything? He wouldn’t believe me if I did. As it is, I’ve already had to watch what I say and think about every word before it leaves my mouth. He probably thinks I’m really shy and quiet.

“I never know what to say when someone says that. I’m better with direct questions. Besides, you don’t want to know about my life. It’s boring.”

“That’s where you are wrong, beautiful,” he says, and my stomach bursts into a field of butterflies, just like it has every time he has called me beautiful today. “My parents always tell me the story of how they met and fell in love. They tell me how it was love at first sight. My dad would say he knew in the depth of his soul that my mom was his. The moment she touched him, he felt her soul burn into his. Soul mates,” he says, staring directly into my eyes.

The field of butterflies multiplies, and my breathing gets heavy. His parents seem to be describing how I felt when we first met. But this can’t happen. My soul mate can’t be in 1957 when my life is in 2009. As if he can read my thoughts, he continues.

“That’s how I felt when I saw you standing across the street today. There is something between us, and I can tell you feel it too, even if you may not want to admit it right now.”

I shake my head. I can’t let this happen. I’m supposed to slip in, get some info for Brian, and slip out. Not make any waves and most certainly not allow the biggest name in rock and roll to think I’m his soul mate. This is not happening.

Oh god, Brian is going to kill me.

“I bet you say that to all the girls. It’s no wonder they all swoon for you.” I try to joke. After all, he does get himself a playboy reputation for a reason, and I’m sure that all starts now.

I glimpse what might be anger crossing his face quickly followed by hurt. My heart clenches. I can’t handle that look, and knowing I put it there is killing me. But I tell myself I’m imagining it because there is no way David Miller isn’t making a play here. Right?

Before I can even speak, he is up and around the table. He kneels on the ground in front of me, so we are eye to eye. He brings one hand to my cheek and just looks into my eyes, searching for something.

His eyes plead with me as though he needs me to believe what he is about to say. It’s as if he’s looking past me and sees me, my soul, and the me I try to keep hidden.

“I haven’t said that to any girl. Ever. It’s okay if you don’t believe me right this moment, but in your heart, you know it’s true, and I will prove it to you. All I ask is that you give me the chance.” He takes in a shaky breath and brings his other hand up to frame my face with his hands.

“I’m going to kiss you now, beautiful, and if you don’t want that, then you need to stop me,” he says barely above a whisper.

My mind races. This is crazy. We’ve only known each other for a few hours. I may know all about him in the future—who he becomes and how his life turns out—but he knows nothing about me. He doesn’t even know my last name. But then I remember my time here is on a deadline of two weeks at most, so why not live a little and enjoy it? When I go back home, I can forget about it and move on, right?

Half my brain is yelling that I can’t do this and it’s a horrible idea. I should get up and walk right out the front gate and never look back. Go find a hotel room and get on with my plans.

The other half of my brain says it’s only two weeks, two weeks out of my whole life. Surely, I can have a little fun? I could be one of David Miller's first conquests. My heart then weighs in like an i***t and wants to believe him. Wants to believe the words are true, that he feels this connection and truly wants to be mine.

My heart wins out, and I lean in to kiss him. I swear at that moment, the world fades away the fact that I am fifty-two years in the past and all my doubts are gone. I just know that nothing that feels like this could possibly be wrong.

When his lips move over mine so softly, sparks shoot from all my nerve endings, and it’s as though our souls are connecting, and my soul is finally at home. He presses his tongue against my lips, seeking entrance, and when I open just a little, he’s right there in the most passionate kiss I’ve ever experienced. I kiss him back with everything I have because there’s no telling if I will ever get this chance again. His hand moves to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair to angle my head and deepen the kiss.

Grasping his shirt, I pull him to me, and he comes like a magnet that can’t stay away. His other hand grips my waist, and my heart pounds as I grow aware of every little touch of his skin to mine.

When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine, and we both try to catch our breath.

“Tell me you felt that. Tell me it wasn’t just me,” he begs.

I can’t lie to him. Even if it’s scary or I know I should.

“I felt it,” I whisper.

He gives me a soft peck on the lips, then settles himself back in his chair. I can’t take my eyes off him, and his gaze never leaves mine.

“That was one hell of a kiss, Ivy.” His voice is as intense as his eyes.

My skin heats a bit as I look around, trying to break the connection.

“Yeah, it was,” I whisper.

He clears his throat. “Eat up, this is the best chicken salad sandwich you will ever have,” he says and takes a bite.

I take a bite and look down at my sandwich as I chew.

“Well?”

With a smile, I say, “It’s really good.” I watch a smile cover his face, thinking he won. “But it’s not the best I’ve ever had.”

His face falls, and he sets his sandwich down and wipes his mouth. “Oh, yeah? What was the best one you’ve had then?”

I can’t tell him it is the sandwich at Panera Bread from back home because I’m pretty sure that chain hasn’t even been invented yet. So I go with a version of the truth.

“There is this a soup and sandwich shop near my house, and they have this amazing chicken salad sandwich. It has grapes and almonds, and they mix it with mayo and honey and a few spices. The flavor is amazing. I have the recipe written down back at my house.”

“Where is back home?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

I just shake my head. I’m enjoying myself, so there’s no point in ruining it.

“Okay, so something a little simpler, what’s your last name?”

“Collins.”

“When is your birthday?”

I pause because I’m twenty-one, but I was born in 1988, but I can’t say that, so I say, “October eleventh.”

“What year were you born?” he asks, not missing a beat.

“Well, I’m twenty-one, so you do the math.” I smirk at him.

“Only a year younger than me so 1936.”

I smile at him and keep eating. We talk about simple things like favorite colors, favorite foods, and our families and friends. Before I know it, the sun is close to setting, and I realize I need to find a place to stay while I’m here.

I stand. “Thank you for lunch, David, but I really must be going now.”

He stands up and takes my hand. “Let me drive you home.”

“Well, I actually need to find a hotel. I just got into town this morning.”

He is quiet at first and then looks into my eyes. “I have a guest room, and you are more than welcome to stay here. In fact, I’d love more time with you. How long are you in town?” he asks.

“For the next ten days or so,” I tell him. Why did I say that? I should have just said two days and headed home as soon as I could. Oh, I know because my heart beat my brain to my mouth that time.

“Please, I’d love to spend that time with you. I could sure use your help planning some of the rooms here at the house, and I’d be happy to take you anywhere you need to go.”

I can tell this is hard for him because he isn’t used to begging for something he can just make happen. If he isn’t now, I know he will be anyway.

I take a deep breath. It would make things easier to stay here, for sure, but it could complicate things too. I mean, I do have my cell phone in my pocket, for crying out loud. It’s turned off to save the battery, but still, how would I explain that one?

I figure I can keep it and the rocks hidden, but I do need to get some clothes. “Okay, but I do need to get some clothes. I kind of came here on a whim and didn’t bring more than what I have on me. If you point me to the local clothing store, I’ll get some clothes and be back before dinner.”

“Nonsense. I can take you.” He starts walking with my hand still in his toward what I am guessing is the garage since that area wasn’t on the tours when I went.

Then I hear Brian in the back of my head tell me to keep to the shadows. I know David is photographed every time he goes out. If I am with him, I could end up in one of the photos.

I start to panic a little bit because I need to limit the number of pictures taken of me. It could change history. “David,” I say.

He stops and looks back at me. “Everything okay, beautiful?”

“Well, umm, what are the chances someone would take a picture of the two of us while we are out?”

He looks a bit confused. “There might be one or two taken of us, but I don’t care. I want to tell everyone you are mine.”

“No, David, please don’t. I don’t want anyone to be able to track me here,” I say before I realize I could have said that better because he instantly looks worried.

“What’s wrong? Is someone after you? You have to know I can protect you.”

I need to calm him down.

“It’s not like that. It’s just ...” I’m franticly searching for something plausible to tell him. “This is so new, and I want to keep it ours for a bit.”

He pauses and studies my face. I try not to let my eyes betray me, but it seems he can read me as well as Brian can. “You aren’t a very good liar, are you?” He chuckles.

I sigh. “No, my mom used to say the same thing and so does Brian.”

I watch his body tense. “Who’s Brian?” he almost growls.

He is just so damn cute when he’s jealous, and I can’t help but smile. I walk over to him and place my hand on his chest to calm him. “Brian has been my best friend since we were kids.”

“How much of a threat is he? Do I need to worry about having to put him in his place?” He still doesn’t look calm. I have to admit I’m enjoying this just a bit. It’s been a long time since anyone has cared enough to get jealous over me.

“David, Brian is zero threat. He is...” I think how to put this because I can’t for the life of me remember how the gay community is viewed during this timeframe, but I guess I can take my chances. “Brian is gay,” I say and watch him very closely.

He looks over my shoulder for a moment in thought, then he relaxes under my touch. “Okay well, let me introduce you to Nancy. She is my housekeeper and cook and the only staff I have here at the house right now. You tell her what size you are, and she will get you some clothes.”

I decide to have a little fun with him. I just can’t resist.

“And this Nancy, how much of a threat is she? Do I need to put her in her place?” I ask but can’t keep a straight face if I tried because the corner of my mouth tilts up.

He turns all serious for a moment, then softens when he looks in my eyes. “No, beautiful, she is more like a grandma to me. If you feel threatened by anyone on my team, you tell me.”

I tear up. “David, I was just playing around with you.”

“I know you were, but I want to make my stance very clear, and I’m trying to do it without scaring you off.”

What’s scaring me is how intense this connection between us is. I have to laugh, though, at how dating or courting has changed through the years.

“If anything, it will be me scaring you away,” I say just above a whisper.