Today, I’m looking back
at Belonging, the 8th book in the Firsts and Forever Series. I had
so much fun writing Gianni and Zan! I didn’t set out with the intention of
writing a May-December romance, but putting these two characters together made so
much sense to me.
Gianni Dombruso was this beautiful guy in his late twenties
who should have had all the confidence in the world, but instead, he was so insecure and thought no
one would ever value him as more than a pretty face. And then there was Zan
Tillane, my British former rock star, who’d totally cut himself off from the rest of
the world. They both needed rescuing, though neither would admit it.
In the following scene
from Belonging, Gianni and Zan aren’t a couple yet. Gianni has taken on the job
of grocery shopping for the reclusive rock star and has made it his mission to broaden
Zan’s closed off world. He thinks a step in the right direction is to introduce
some exotic foods into Zan’s very limited diet. But the Buddha’s hand citrus
fruit might be one step too far:
Fortunately, Zan snapped
me out of my completely misplaced reverie by snatching the canvas sack from me.
He stuck his hand inside and pulled out what I’d brought him, then yelled,
“Bloody hell, what is that?” as he tossed it onto the counter.
“It’s called a Buddha’s
hand. It’s a citrus fruit.”
“It isn’t! It’s a fat,
yellow octopus!”
“Not even close.”
“The thing has tentacles!
Where did you find this monstrosity?”
“The market,” I said
flatly.
“There’s absolutely no
way that’s fruit, or even edible!”
“It is! I want you to try
it, I hear they’re good.”
“Aha! You hear they’re good. That means you’ve
never been daft enough to try one yourself. I won’t be the first one down that
gangplank!” He plucked it off the counter by one of its long, yellow fingers
and rushed for the back door as I ran after him.
“Don’t you dare throw
that thing! It was expensive!”
“And now it’s doubly
crazy! Also, just look. You yourself called it a thing!”
“Only because it sounds
pretty freaking insane to yell don’t
throw Buddha’s hand outside!” He flung open the back door and went to throw
it, but I grabbed his arm as I exclaimed, “I mean it! Don’t do it!”
A ridiculous game of
keep-away ensued, worthy of a third grade playground. I burst out laughing and
told him, “You’re being really immature!”
Zan was laughing, too.
“It belongs outside,” he said as he twisted his body to hold the fruit away
from me. “That way, it can crawl back to the mothership!”
“Granted, it’s a little
weird looking, but it’s a fruit! Its
cousin is an orange!”
“Maybe you should have
brought me its cousin, then,” he said, grabbing my left wrist while I grabbed
his.
“You’ve had oranges! I wanted you to try
something new.”
“So you brought me an
octopus alien!”
“Okay, I’ll concede that
I might have been aiming a bit too high. But try it anyway! I’ll reel it in
next time and bring you some grapes or something.”
“I don’t like grapes,” he
said.
“You can’t make a blanket
statement like that,” I told him. “There are dozens of grape varieties and
they’re all different. If you tried a few, I bet you’d find one you liked.”
“But they’re all squishy
little balls, and I want no part of that.”
“God you’re weird.”
“You think?”
He executed a
surprisingly graceful move all of a sudden and pinned me to the wall, holding
me in place by leaning against me. “You’re going to injure your sore shoulder,”
I told him.
“It’ll be worth it for
the immense satisfaction of seeing the space octopus become airborne,” he said
with a smile.
My heart was already
beating quickly because of our game of keep-away, and it stuttered when I
looked in his eyes. He let go of my wrist and I let go of his, both of us
becoming serious at the same time. My gaze dropped to his full lips. I wanted
him to kiss me so fucking bad. God I wanted that.
But he didn’t do it. He
didn’t do anything. Zan just stood
there, his body pressed against mine as lust shot through me. He was breathing
hard just like I was, his chest rising and falling, but aside from that, he
remained perfectly immobile.
Was he waiting for me to
make a move? I looked in his eyes again and seriously considered leaning in and
planting one on him. But I just couldn’t do it! What if I was the only one
feeling this? What if I went to kiss him and he pulled away? How incredibly
embarrassing would that be?
Besides, if he wanted to
kiss me, he would. It wasn’t like he was shy, given what he used to do for a
living. There was just no way.
Zan stepped back from me
abruptly and muttered, “Sorry.” Then he (and the fruit) went back to his cave.
He closed the door to the den behind him. I stared after him for a moment
before I retreated too, heading straight for my car.
