Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

Owen is still sleeping.

I try to maintain my focus on the coffeepot, ignoring the delicious hunk of a man crashed out in my bed. I say try because my gaze keeps slipping to his snoozing form like high heels on ice. I grab a mug and stroll back into the bedroom. My hope? He’s still asleep, and I can bask in his perfect form without him thinking I’m a level nine creeper.

But those gray eyes are wide open when I cross the threshold. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Sorry if I woke you. I needed my morning java fix. Nursing hazard.” Holy hell, I’m babbling. It’s been a hot minute since there’s been a man in my bed, and I know there’s never been one of Owen’s caliber before. His appeal is off the charts.

“Come here.” He pats the bed, a smile playing on that luscious mouth. The mouth that was all over me last night.

I pad to the bedside with barely enough time to set down the steaming mug before Owen grabs me about the waist, trapping me underneath him. “I was wrong.”

Oh, crap. “About?”

“You’re more beautiful in the morning.” His fingers push my hair from my face as his lips claim me.

I’m gasping when his mouth breaks from mine, traveling down the column of my neck. I saw one bite in the mirror already, but I have a feeling he’s planning to add to the collection.

“You taste so good.”

“I can fix you breakfast. Are you hungry?” I manage, but judging from his erection pushing against me, it’s not food he’s after.

“Only for you.”

Who can argue that statement? Not me, as I slide my nails along his scalp, feeling his quiver of excitement.

“Too many damn clothes.” Owen paws at my shirt and panties until I’m as naked as him.

He nuzzles my breasts, nipping and sucking at the tips. “Your body is perfection.”

The man is ravenous, all hands and tongue, as if he can’t get his fill of me. Let me tell you, it doesn’t get any sexier than that.

My hand closes around his shaft as he grunts into my mouth. I run my thumb over the tip, moving my hand along his length, and guiding him into me.

“Fuck me, Tally. You’re so tight. Christ, you feel so good.”

I scratch my nails down his back, my legs wrapping around his waist. “Show me how good I feel.”

Owen slides his hands under my ass, tipping up my hips as he buries himself inside me. I cry out, but he’s relentless—pulling almost all the way out before driving into me again. So slow, so calculated, so delicious. I squeeze around him, my body thrashing against the mattress as he owns every inch of me.

Just like he promised.

His grip on my hips tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh until the blistering pleasure tears me in two. Owen releases a rough cry as he comes, and I feel him erupt inside me. He collapses on top of me, both of us covered in a sheen of sweat.

I stroke his scalp and back, reveling in the weight of him on top of me. He lifts his head, peppering my face with kisses.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

I run my tongue along his lower lip, a smile breaking across my face. “Ready for round two?”

“Little girl, you are going to kill me.”

“Is that a yes?”

His mouth claims mine, and he starts moving inside me again with slow, undulating pumps that perfectly match my rhythm. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m the luckiest girl in the whole damn world.”

“Are you working today?” Owen inquires, his fingers running along my body. “You work three twelve-hour shifts, right?”

“I’m not a staff nurse.”

He props up on one elbow, his free hand getting more devious by the second. Glad to know I’m not the only one with an addiction. “What do you do?”

“I’m the nurse manager of the Cardiac Cath Unit at Memorial. Sorry, medical terminology. Heart unit. What do you do?”

A cloud flickers over Owen’s features, but it’s gone in an instant. “I told you, I’m a thief.”

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what you do for a living?”

“I think I just did.”

I send him a fake glare, but I enjoy our ribbing. I feel like I’ve known Owen my entire life. “Fine, don’t tell me,” I mutter, turning my focus to the suit of ink covering his body. The man is decorated from the chest down, except for his hands. The work is breathtaking.

Who am I kidding? Owen is breathtaking. My fingers trace along his rib cage when I notice it.

A caduceus—the symbol of doctors and medicine.

“Huh.”

Owen tips his head to the side. “What?”

“I’m admiring your ink. I hadn’t noticed this one before.”

“Tally, I’m pretty sure there’s several you haven’t seen yet.”

“I don’t know. I examined every inch of you last night…and this morning.”

He props himself up, his gaze flitting to where my fingers trail along his ribs. “Oh, that one.”

“The symbol of doctors. An odd choice for someone not in the medical field.”

Owen rolls onto his back, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, to be honest, it was my lifelong dream to be a doctor.”

For some reason, this piece of information doesn’t surprise me. Or freak me out like I expect. I prop my chin on his chest as my fingers trace yet another piece of skin art. “I think you would have been an excellent doctor.”

His eyes widen at my words. “I thought you hated doctors.”

“Not at all. Some of my closest friends are doctors. Just because I won’t date them, doesn’t mean I don’t respect and admire them.”

“Interesting,” Owen murmurs.

“Let me guess? You wanted to be a cardiologist? I can’t blame you. I adore the field.” I pepper kisses to his chest, taking his nipple between my teeth. “It’s not too late.”

“For what?”

“Go to school. Become a doctor. We need good doctors.”

His fingers slide along the length of my hair, and I lean into his caress. Christ, I’m as bad as Hecate. “But if I was a doctor, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“In bed after a night out? Sure, I would,” I joke, but Owen doesn’t return my smile.

“But I wouldn’t be here, would I, Tally?” He doesn’t let me answer, choosing instead to pull me into another heated kiss, his bulk rolling over me. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than next to you.”

I release a heated cry as he buries himself inside me, capturing my moans in his mouth.

At the rate we’re going, we’ll never need clothes.

“You can’t stop smiling, can you?” Stefani asks, popping her head into my office.

“Go away, I’m doing important things,” I volley back, but my friend plops into the vacant chair, a knowing grin on her face.

“So? Did you get your skirt blown up?”

I shake my head as a flush crosses my cheeks. If she only knew. “I’m not entertaining that question.”

“How was he?”

I don’t normally kiss and tell. Let’s be honest, in the last two years, there has been nothing to tell. But Owen is too delicious not to share. “He’s fantastic. Seriously. Our chemistry is off the charts, but it’s more than that. He’s become one of my closest friends.”

Stefani mouth falls open. “In a week?”

I nod, biting my lip. “It’s crazy, right? Tell me I’m crazy. Make me snap out of it.”

“No chance in hell. I like this version of you—all giddy and sexually satisfied. Good for you, Lu. Owen is quite the catch. What does he do, anyway?”

And that’s the million-dollar question. The one crimp in my groove is Owen’s continued evasiveness about his occupation. “I’m not sure. He’s very vague about work, aside from joking that he’s a bank robber.”

“If he is, he can steal my money anytime.” She grins at my heated glare. “Stop it. I know Owen is your man. He made his desires real obvious that first night.”

I prop my chin on my hand, tapping my pen against the desk. “Should I worry that I don’t know what he does for a living?”

“Do you think it’s illegal?” When I shrug, she continues. “Some people are weird about their work. They don’t like to talk about upcoming deals in case they fall through. Maybe he’s superstitious.”

“Or maybe he’s a doctor,” I blurt, finally giving voice to the nagging feeling in my gut.

“Why do you think that?”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. “He’s evasive about his job.”

Stefani’s brows draw together. “Why would he be evasive about being a doctor? That’s bragging rights central.”

“I don’t date doctors, remember?”

“Does he know that?”

I nod. “I told him on the first date.”

“Did it faze him?”

I shake my head, recalling the memory. “Faze isn’t the right word, although he seemed shocked that a nurse wouldn’t consider dating a doctor. It was more like he wanted to know the reason behind my decision. That, and he has caduceus tattoo on his ribs.”

Stefani shoots me an exasperated glare. “You have a unicorn on your thigh, but I don’t see a horn sticking out of your head.”

I snicker, picturing myself with a horn and hooves. “This is also true.”

“Don’t invent problems, Lu. For once, believe something good has fallen into your lap. Lord knows you deserve it.”

She’s not lying. I’ve been through the wringer with men, most notably with the doctor I dated. I know it isn’t healthy to dwell on the past, but even the thought of that piece of crap makes me seethe with anger.

My friend senses the tension, opting to change topics. “Did you hear they filled Dr. Levinson’s spot?”

“Dr. Watts sent me an email this morning. She didn’t mention his name, but she claims he is brilliant, and we are beyond lucky to have snagged him.” I shrug, shoving the remains of my lunch into the fridge. “I just hope he’s nice to the staff. Levinson was a tool.”

“He was great in the cath lab, though. A total turd of a man, but expert-level interventionist.”

I can’t disagree. “But for once, can’t we have a brilliant doctor who is also an agreeable person?”

“And hot as hell.”

I smirk. “Can’t forget that.”

“You can. You have a hot as hell man already. It’s my turn.”

“I thought you liked Dan,” I murmur, watching my friend’s face flush.

“I do, but he doesn’t reciprocate.”

My eyes narrow. “He thinks you’re gorgeous.”

“He also thinks I have the depth of a mud puddle since my musical tastes run more toward Taylor Swift than the Sex Pistols. Don’t give me that look, Lu. You know it’s true.”

“Is that even a competition? I can’t say I like Taylor Swift, but she’s more musically inclined than the Sex Pistols.”

“You missed the point.”

I lean across the desk, squeezing my friend’s forearm. “No, I didn’t. My advice? Prove Dan wrong. I think he’s more concerned that you’re only looking to warm his bed for a night, and he’s got a full roster there.”

“Gee, that was a lovely visual.”

“Stef, you have a full roster, too. If you like Dan, let him know you’re willing to cut your roster. Significantly. I’m not the only one who deserves some long-term happiness.”

Owen is on the porch, chatting with my landlord when I arrive home. With anyone else, I would feel suffocated. But I want Owen near me all the time. The man warms my soul and judging from the smile on Mrs. Small’s face, he’s charmed the pants off her, too.

“Hey folks,” I throw up a hand in greeting, giggling when Owen jumps down the couple steps and swoops me into his arms.

There is something delicious about a man who is unafraid to show affection. Particularly when said affection is aimed solely at me.

“Hey Darlin,” he coos, as his lips waste no time finding mine.

I fall into the kiss, not caring that Mrs. Small is privy to our intimate moment. “You’re a pleasant surprise.”

“I made plans for this evening. Come on, let’s get you clean, so I can dirty you up again.”

Thirty minutes later, we are in Owen’s car, heading toward the ocean. I say Owen’s car because he’s now the proud owner of his very own Audi A8, complete with every upgrade imaginable, and I still don’t know where the money is coming from.

“We aren’t swimming, are we? I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

Owen pulls into the parking lot of a luxury condo complex, right on the Intracoastal Waterway. “I have an appointment with a realtor to look at a few places. I wanted you to come with me.”

I nod, as my stomach rumbles. “One condition.”

“What’s that, Darlin?”

“Feed me afterward.”

Owen smiles, leaning across the seat to kiss me. “I made reservations at La Dolce Vita.”

“You thought of everything,” I reply with a smirk as he helps me out of the car. The man insists on treating me like a lady, and for the first time in my life, I’m allowing it.

I gaze around at the luxury accommodations. I’ve driven past this part of town, but I can’t afford a mailbox in one of these buildings, much less a condo. “This is the high-rent district.”

Owen shrugs, an embarrassed smile on his face. “It’s not that expensive.” He holds out his hand to me. “Come on, let’s see if we like it.”

I slide my fingers into his hand, but his words repeat in my mind.

Let’s see if we like it. 

Ninety minutes and four condos later, Owen and I are seated in La Dolce Vita, tucked into a private booth at the rear of the restaurant. In the short time I’ve known Owen, he’s treated me like a kid on Christmas. I’ve had more five-star meals in the last couple of weeks than I have in the three years prior. Even then, those were medical dinners, riding on a pharmaceutical company’s tab.

But this, this is divine. Just me and the man I’m swiftly falling head over heels for…fine, the man I’ve already fallen head over heels for. But I keep that handy dandy fact to myself. Those words are sure to send him screaming in the opposite direction.

I prefer him right here, next to me.

“Talk to me, Darlin. Did you like any of the condos?” Owen inquires, popping a shrimp in his mouth.

I take a bite of my bruschetta, catching the stray piece of tomato that falls from the bread. I’m the definition of grace. “They’re all beautiful.”

“You can do better than that.”

“I like the third one the best. I love the rooftop garden and the kitchen. But that’s just me, and my opinion doesn’t matter.”

His eyes narrow in my direction. “Of course it matters. I like that one, too. Plus, it has three bedrooms.”

“It’s a lot of room for one guy. You could save money by buying a one-bedroom.”

His stormy gaze holds mine as he slides his hand across the table, grasping my fingers. “I hope I’ll need the room in the future.”

My mouth goes dry at his statement. Brain, slow down. Don’t start playing the wedding march just yet. Gather your facts first. You probably heard him wrong. “Home gym?”

Owen laughs, releasing my hand as our entrees arrive. “Not exactly.”

By the end of dinner, Owen has narrowed down the condo choices to two, and I’m choking over the price. I know that San Francisco is much more expensive than Fort Lauderdale. Still, three-quarters of a million dollars is way above my pay grade—in either city.

I try to snatch the bill, but Owen smacks my hand away. “No chance in hell, Darlin.”

He scribbles in the tip, and I giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“If you decided to become a doctor, you’d blend right in with that almost illegible penmanship.”

He chuckles, offering me his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It was a wonderful dinner. Thank you, Clark.”

Owen’s face scrunches in confusion. “Are you forgetting my name now?”

“No. Clark Kent. You’re so mysterious, but you’re also my definition of perfection, so I can only assume that you’re Superman.”

His arms wrap around me, his mouth nipping my exposed shoulder. “I thought you were a Marvel girl.”

“I am,” I declare, twirling in his arms. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

He presses his forehead to mine, and I breathe in the delicious scent that is all Owen. “I really want to be your exception, Darlin.”

That makes two of us. I really want him to be the exception, too—the one who holds my heart without breaking it. A woman can dream, right?

“I have another surprise.”

“Let me guess. You’re buying a yacht, or perhaps a private island in the Caribbean. Am I close?”

“Not today. Maybe next week.”

The temperature is finally dropping when we pull up to the skate park. My jaw slackens when he pulls two boards from the trunk, along with a bag of clothes. “Go change, and then, Ms. Big Talker, I want to see what you’ve got.”

I place my hands on my hips, offering up a fake glare. “I’m not a big talker, I’m a truth talker.”

“You think you’re pretty badass, don’t you, Tally?”

“I know I’m pretty badass. And this badass is about to show you how it’s done.”

Owen is damn near doubled over as I accept the bag of clothing. Let him laugh. I’ll simply have to wipe his sweet cheeks all over the pavement.

Granted, it’s been years, but how hard can it be? Like riding a bike, right?

So very, very wrong.

Never ask rhetorical questions that involve bodily injury. Karma loves to quiet your mouthy ass for that level of stupidity. Suffice it to say, I’m not the skater I once was, and my ankle has paid the price.

“Ouch,” I grumble, grabbing my injured extremity. That’s what I get for attempting a kickflip after a decade away from the skate park.

Owen races over, his long fingers palpating my foot. He maneuvers it with gentle pressure to the left and right, and I can’t help but notice how professional he is in his examination. “Can you wiggle your toes? I don’t think it’s broken, but we need an X-ray to rule out a fracture.”

“Okay then, Dr. Stevens,” I retort, his eyes bulging at my nickname. “What? You sounded like a doctor just now. Even the whole examination part. Something you want to tell me?”

Owen settles on his haunches, his gaze focused on the beach beyond the park. “I told you, I always wanted to be a doctor.”

“Maybe you should go back to school for medicine,” I suggest, surprised how calm I am at the idea. “In between your robberies, of course.”

It’s a joke. He should smile, but a worry line creases Owen’s brow. Apparently, this whole doctor discussion is a bigger deal than I thought. “If I did that, I’d lose you. Right?”

My mouth goes dry at his direct question. What if he is considering a career in medicine? What then? “I…I don’t—”

“Exactly. I’m not willing to give you up, Tally.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, giving him a squeeze. “I don’t want you giving up on your dreams, Owen.”

He drops a kiss to my forehead before hoisting me off the ground. “Why can’t we have it all? Your dreams, my dreams, and our dreams?”

Something flickers in the back of my brain, like a tiny beacon flashing out a warning. A warning that, for the time being, I’m choosing to ignore. Owen has something to tell me, and when he’s ready, he will. Until then, I’m enjoying every second.