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“I’ll pick you up here at… What time are your office hours over?”
She shook her head like she was trying to get her bearings.
“Just pick me up here at seven. I want to go home and change.”
“Seven,” I repeated. “I’ll see you then.”
I closed the space once more between us, and I could feel her body melt as she leaned her backside against the desk for support. But this time, I didn’t take her into my arms. I pressed a short, intense kiss to her lips, and then walked away. As I reached the door, I turned and looked one last time at her. She was half-turned toward me, looking at the desk with unfocused eyes. Slowly, her gaze rose to mine.
“Seven,” I said. “I won’t be late.”
The smile that stretched across her lips was enough to gain one of my own, and I slipped out of the door, not caring that I probably had lipstick smeared across my lips. I would wear it with pride all the way home, feeling the tingle of the memory of her lips and relishing it.
As soon as I was home, I hopped in a cold shower and got myself clean, then went into the closet to find something decent to wear. There was a newer restaurant in the recently rebuilt shopping center near Vic and Melanie’s grocery store.
I called Vic, who happened to be working that day, and asked him if he could get their number since it wasn’t listed online yet, and he offered to just go over and make a reservation for me. Not without prying a little, but I was willing to take it. I kind of wanted to brag.
As I finished getting ready, I checked the clock. It was barely five. I still had an hour and a half before I had to leave to get to the school on time. And now that I was dressed and ready, it wasn’t like I could just go out and hang out with the horses like I normally did.
Sitting down at the dining room table, I began scrolling through my phone, not really paying attention to anything and just kind of wasting time. I wasn’t normally a tech person, but Carmela had bugged me until I got a decent phone, and now I was still trying to figure out how to use it beyond calling and texting and my one, never-updated social media account, which was only ever used to respond to the boys when they posted things or utilized the group chat.
Finally, the clock said six, and I simply couldn’t take it anymore.
I drove across town and pulled into the parking lot, crossing over the courtyard and arriving at her office door at six-forty. I rapped on the door and again heard her voice from inside. Only this time it didn’t sound distracted. It sounded like the voice of a woman who was excited.
The door swung open, and my eyes fell on Kristen, standing in the center of the room. She was wearing a black and yellow dress that accentuated her curves and gave a deeper, yet still modest view of her chest. She was sexy as hell. The smile spreading across her full, pouty red lips only added to that sexiness.
“You weren’t kidding about not being late,” she said.
“Told you I wouldn’t be.”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Our reservation is for seven-thirty,” I said. “We have a few minutes to spare.”
“Where is the reservation?”
I told her, and she nodded.
“So maybe you can walk with me around downtown for a few minutes before dinner,” I said. “If that sounds all right.”
“It sounds great,” she replied.
Smiling, I held the door for her, and as she passed, her perfume filled my senses again. I wanted to bathe in her smell. To cover myself with it and claim it.
We drove in a comfortable quiet, and when we parked several blocks away from the restaurant, I held out my hand for her, and she took it. Leisurely, we paced around some of the newer shops and prominently in front of Brewer’s Grocery. I peeked my head inside and caught Melanie’s eye, who waved, then saw who I was with.
“A friend of yours?” Kristen asked.
Normally, I would detect a note of jealousy in that from other women. A pretty woman waving at me from inside a store probably would be enough to get a curt response. But not this time. Kristen seemed rather comfortable in herself and the fact that she wasn’t in competition with anyone. That level of confidence had all my cylinders firing, and I wondered just how long I was going to be able to hold out before I had to taste her lips again.
“That’s Melanie Brewer. She and one of my best friends own this store together,” I said.
“She seems sweet,” Kristen said.
We headed into the restaurant a few minutes later and sat down to eat. The meal was a whirlwind, and I could barely concentrate on the food or conversation. My eyes kept traveling over her body. The way her veins traveled down her neck and to her collarbone. Her painted nails that were just a little longer than her fingertips. The way her mouth curled around the straw as she drank water rather than wine.
I didn’t want to drink either. I wanted to be completely stone-cold sober tonight.
