He grabbed his clothing and chased after her. Small twigs and bits of stone jabbed at his feet. How did she run so fast barefooted? “Wait up.” He minced his way toward her. Her hair glistened in the sun of another small clearing.
“What’s the matter? Delicate feet?” She threw back her head and laughed at his grimace.
She was beautiful. Exquisite.
“Apparently your feet are tougher than mine,” he agreed.
“I love being barefoot. Come on, you owe me dinner and I need dry clothing.”
An hour later, dressed in one of his T-shirts with nothing on under it, she sat across from him at the glass topped table on his deck. She leaned back in her chair. “That was the best steak I’ve ever eaten. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Thanks for fixing my computer. I can’t believe it works again. I am impressed. You’re a woman of many talents.”
“Yes, I am. I have one you haven’t seen.”
“What’s that?” He had no idea where this conversation was going, but he eagerly anticipated finding out. She intrigued him.
“Dishes. I can wash dishes.” She stood and loaded their plates on the tray they’d brought from inside. “I’ll wash. You dry.”
“Or, we could just put them in the dishwasher. It’s nearly full already.”
He opened the door for her and she slipped inside.
“More wine?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I have to drive home,” she demurred.
“Working in the morning? Or tonight?” He didn’t want her to leave.
“No. I’m off for two days. At least at the restaurant. I could probably skip my other job tonight. But I’d have to make up for it later. I get paid by the hour with a set number of hours a week.”
“Stay,” he urged.
“I don’t know…”
“Have a glass of wine. Stay the night. I have a spare bedroom.” She looked torn and he was certain she’d refuse. After a ridiculously long minute, she spoke.
“I guess I could stay, but what if I’m afraid to sleep alone?” She gave him a coy look which stole his breath and his sanity.
He swallowed hard. “Then I’d consider it my sworn duty, as a former military man, to protect you from all the things that go bump in the night.”
She set the tray on the counter and strolled toward him, hips swaying. “Pour the wine, soldier boy.” She lifted up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. Her arms wrapped around him, one hand dragging his head closer to hers. She kissed him hard and fast. “Maybe the wine will wait.” She stepped back, took his hand, and led him toward the bedroom.
