“The waiter. If you want to call him and try a hookup.”
I pull my head back. “Gods, no. Firstly, I’m here on a mission, and secondly, well, he’s a stranger.”
“You only live once.” He laughs. “I guess that’s not true, is it?”
“No. I’m not interested in that, but thank you for your benevolent permission.”
Borja raises an eyebrow. “Hey now, spicy kitten. I was just making sure it wasn’t weird for you.”
“Spicy kitten?”
“Calling it like I see it.” He winks, which immediately defuses my annoyance. He takes the bill and digs some money out of his wallet. “This is enough to cover the tip too. Ready to go?”
I nod, sliding out of the booth. “Ready.”
Just before we exit the restaurant, Leo waves and mouths the words,Call me. I’m still confused by his interest in me.
“I have a question, Borja.”
“Hit me.”
“Leo seems young to me, yes?”
“Yeah. Midtwenties, I’d guess.”
“Right. So how could he look at an old man like me?”
Borja’s brow crinkles as he turns to face me. “Old man? Dude, you realize you don’t look a day over thirty, if that, right?”
Huh?
“You might be old in years, but your face is young. Sure, your vintage style adds a maturity to your look, but on the outside you’re young. You’re also totally gorgeous, if you forgot.”
“I don’t feel young. I suppose I have forgotten how I look on the outside.”
“Clearly.” He steps closer, resting his hand on my waist. “Listen to me, Farns, you’re a looker. Leo won’t be the last guy who tries to catch your eye.”
“Well that’s very flattering.”
He moves closer, obviously giving me an opportunity to stop him if I want to, but I don’t want to. I want his lips on mine, and the thrill of doing it so publicly isn’t lost on me either.
The kiss is brief, simmering with heat and the promise of more later, but the warmth spreading through me is enough to trigger a desire for so much more. Could I really do the things he suggested we do? What would it feel like to be with a man that way? Could I put him in my mouth?
My breath catches at the thought and Borja smiles. “You okay?”
I nod, smiling back. “Yes, just thinking of… later. Perhaps.”
“Duty first, pleasure later?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
We cross the street to the gallery and step inside. It’s a sterile space, with white walls and marble floors, sporadic artwork and a few sculptures. It’s dimly lit, but I suppose that’s because it’s not fully open yet.
The man we saw earlier comes out from behind a wall carrying a large canvas, and pauses when he sees us.
“Can I help you?”
Borja jumps right in. “We’re looking for Michael Wolcott.”
