Malena Lott - Dating da Vinci

When the boys pulled away, waving from their backseats of my father's SUV, I instinctively pulled da Vinci closer to me, and when the car rounded the corner out of sight, da Vinci pulled me into him in a long, urgent kiss that sent us tumbling back into the house for privacy.

I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, but it wasn't food I was hungry for. Da Vinci lifted my flannel nightshirt over my head, kissed my shoulder blade and steered us to the bedroom. I put the brakes on, my feet firmly planted on the hardwood floor, my arm reaching out to grab the wall, but da Vinci was much stronger than I. Before I could protest, we were already on the king-sized bed, much softer than the drafting table in the studio, and I got lost in the heat of our bodies pressing together, forgetting that this bed ever had any other purpose than a soft place to make love in that moment.

“I should've known you'd be blissing,” Anh said, arms crossed in the doorway. I shrieked, awkwardly grabbing for the sheet to cover us, but we were still nearly fully clothed. We hadn't even gotten to third base yet.

Da Vinci's groan turned from pleasure to annoyance. Something was always getting in the way of our togetherness, and it wasn't because of him. My boys. My family. My best friend who really, really should've known better. Nothing should break the spell of a Fantasy Sex Day. It wasn't fair. And I only got one, maybe two, my whole lifetime.

Da Vinci's arm was wrapped around my waist, his hot breaths at my shoulder blade, warming me from the outside in. I couldn't believe I wouldn't get to do what we were about to do. “What are you doing here?”

Anh gave an apologetic shrug, but obviously she wasn't sorry enough to turn around and leave when she saw us. “You said you'd watch Vi for me, remember?”

Vi appeared from behind Anh's legs and stared up at me with her big brown eyes, a sucker stick hanging from her mouth, sugary goo dripping onto my carpet. “I did? Why would I do a crazy thing like that?”

“Because I have the conference in Galveston this weekend, remember?”

I pounded my head against the pillow. So much for a free weekend. “I'm sorry. I can't believe I forgot.”

Anh knelt down, a worried look on her face. “I hate to ask this, but do I look as bad as I feel? I've felt like crap all morning.”

I pressed my cool hand against her head and quickly removed it. “You definitely have a fever.”

Just then Vi removed her sucker and threw up all over the floor beside my bed. She was so shocked at her own vomit that she ran out of the room and straight for the couch, where she promptly spewed again.

Good thing Joel and I had a plan not to get new furniture until our kids were older. Little tykes believe couches are their personal wipe rag. Because our boys had finally reached the age where they knew potato chip grease was meant for napkins instead of seat cushions (well, half the time anyway), we'd been looking for a new couch the week before Joel died, but couldn't agree on one we both liked. Vi began to wail. “Oh-up. Oh-up.”

“Dammit!” Anh said. “My son was sick earlier this week. He must've given us his bug.”

I began tending to my friends. Another clue da Vinci was not a typical American male: he cleaned up the throw-up without even being asked. Actually, I wouldn't have asked him to do it at all, but by the time I'd retrieved the thermometer and trashcan from the bathroom, he had already grabbed a towel and began cleaning the mess. “Carpet cleaner?” he asked, and I directed him to the Oxy10. I'd almost forgotten his last temp job had been cleaning office buildings.

“Oh, God,” Anh said, laying on the clean part of the couch. “He's sexy and he cleans. I'm the world's biggest bitch for breaking up your sexfest.”

“Yes, you are,” I said, shoving the thermometer in her mouth. “But as usual, I'll forgive you. Besides, we have three more days to be together. If he'll forgive me.”

“This can't be happening,” Anh said, closing her eyes.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. Don't talk. We want an accurate read.”

Anh lay moaning on the couch while I scooped up Vi and bathed her and brushed her teeth with my finger. I wrapped her in a towel, and when I returned, I took the thermometer from Anh's hand.

“Yikes. 103,” I said. “On the bright side, you won't have to go to a boring conference.”

“It better not be boring. I'm the one who planned it.”

“You work too hard. A little R &R won't kill you.”

“That's what the conference was supposed to be. Do you know how much my hotel room is? And how much I was looking forward to getting away? And for all intents and purposes, I'm a single mom, you know. Her biological mother hasn't taken her the last four weekends, and her father, well, let's just say he takes after his own father. He's dating some hot college student and hasn't told her about Vi yet, the putz.”

“Well, let's just worry about getting you better now.”

Anh's cell phone rang.

“Don't answer that,” I said just before she answered.

Anh's voice turned from corporate cool to fun and flirty. Nothing in my dissertation research said anything about being able to flirt with a fever. “You don't need to do that,” she cooed.

I mouthed, “Who is it?” but she shooed me away. A moment later, she hung up.

“Nobody,” she said.

“This no-named nobody sure seemed to turn your frown upside down.”

Anh shook her head. “Fine. It's Michael. He said he'd come over and take care of Vi and me this weekend.”

“Seriously? As in my Michael that you couldn't see doing anything other than blissing with?”

Anh put her hand over her head. “Weird, isn't it? Well, I'm sure even Republicans can make chicken noodle soup.” She groaned. “The conference! My room! I even splurged for a suite. It's too late to cancel now.”

“On the bright side, at least it's tax deductible.”

She shook her fevered head. “You know where you can stick that ‘bright side‘ Miss Sex-a-lot?” She removed her washcloth. “Wait a minute. I've got a great idea. You and da Vinci should go stay in my room. That way, it's not $350 down the drain. Come on, my treat.”

“Me and da Vinci vacationing on Galveston Island? On the beach? That's crazy talk.”

“You said you needed to take a vacation anyway, right? Wasn't that on The List? So do it! And I do mean, 'just do it.'”

Da Vinci's hands were folded in prayer. He clearly understood the words “island” and “beach”… and probably even “sex-a-lot.”

“ Fallo e basta, ” he said urgently. Just do it.

SIX HOURS LATER, WE were naked on the king-sized bed in an expensive suite I would've never been able to afford, living out the Fantasy Sex Day I couldn't believe was a reality. If a best friend could get any bester, then Anh had done so. Getting away unleashed any inhibitions I'd had about being with da Vinci. I felt young again, beautiful again and sexy again. Me, the thirty-six-year-old widowed wordsmith. Da Vinci became sweeter and more real by the minute. He cradled me, caressed me, and made love to me like I was the only thing he desired on the planet.

Getting away from Austin was like shedding a protective skin. As da Vinci and I walked along the shoreline after dinner, I realized I wasn't the same person at all. I still didn't know who I was, but getting outside of my comfort zone, my wall of imprisoned grief, I let myself smile again and really, really meant it. I let him hold my hand in public and didn't mind being seen by others. I could see the way other women looked at him, how they all wondered what I'd done to get a man as striking as him. They probably assumed I had money, though I didn't look it, or I was incredibly famous to land a boy toy such as this, though I saw him as so much more than a handsome man on my arm.