Page 132 of Whirlwind

Actually, he knew that she needed a lot of encouragement. She just might not be ready to accept it from him.

He told himself that he wouldn’t have any expectations for tonight. Just a nice meal and time spent together outside of work.

He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the little bowls of olives, pita, and cucumber-feta salad. Hope you’re hungry!

There. That was fine. Friendly and fun. Encouraging but not too pushy.

He set the phone down and decided to tidy up the room. Not that it needed it, since he’d gone on a cleaning spree this weekend while he worked up the courage to ask Charlie out. But he needed something to do while he waited, and the kitchen was already spotless.

He started lining up the books on his bookshelf, not really seeing them as he tried to unpack Charlie’s mysteries.

She was so abrasive on the outside, tolerating little bullshit and shooting straight from the hip. But below that was a great listener who charmed all of the patrons at her bar. Folks poured their hearts out to her and she gave that tough-love advice to set them straight, without ever being overbearing. She was pretty much the archetypal parent to every baby queer who ventured her way.

Buried even more deeply, he was now increasingly sure, was an inner fragility. Someone had hurt her, and she’d never let herself recover. Carla only caught it in brief glimpses, little moments of insecurity and loneliness that he was sure she never meant for anyone to see. Yet at her core was a steel pillar of strength. Life might have given her lemons, but she’d made a goddamn lemon cake and grown a fucking lemon tree to share with all the neighbors.

It had taken him even longer to realize that Charlie was much more shy and introverted than anyone would think just by watching her. As a bartender, she was funny and outgoing, laughing with customers and amused by the antics of her employees. She had her schtick down and she was good at it. But she never shared anything personal and she didn’t have friends outside of work. When she left Whirlwind, she spent time alone.

It was all of these contradictions that drew Carla in. Charlie’s unpredictable dance of approaching and retreating. Something told him he had something to offer her, that despite her shrugs whenever BDSM came up, she might be a lot more interested than she let on. The idea had kept him up late on many nights as he pondered possible combinations between the two of them, his hand between his legs.

Of course, Charlie’s sexy package didn’t hurt either. He knew that she didn’t see herself as attractive, but there was something about those thoughtlessly rumpled flannels and cargo pants over those soft curves that did something to him.

Carla was meticulous about his own clothes, but he loved that Charlie didn’t give a shit and had given up on trying to impress anyone. He enjoyed even more that she was comfortable with her weight and her body. He loved the way that her thick belly and pillowy boobs gave her a presence, a hefty space in the world that she claimed unapologetically.

Yet when he looked her in the eyes, sometimes she blushed like a teenager on her first date before giving him a glare.

Delicious, delicious contradictions.

Her age, far from being a detractor, was a bonus in Carla’s opinion. His last girlfriend had been four years younger and never really got her shit together. It had been exhausting. Carla liked taking care of his partners—in certain ways—but the inability to function in basic daily situations wasn’t attractive or sustainable.

With Charlie, he suspected the situation might be just the opposite.

There was just something about Charlie’s capable confidence that made Carla want to take control and shatter that composure. To give her a chance to escape responsibility and rest her burdens. Maybe with the help of some rope and a blindfold. He could imagine that all too easily...

Carla realized he was getting ahead of himself, again. The chemistry was there, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was kinky.

Or even joining him for dinner.

He sighed. Another fifteen minutes had gone by, but there wasn’t any sign of her. She hadn’t answered his text, either.

He was debating putting the food back in the fridge when his doorbell rang.

He was so startled that he jumped, and he might have actually run over to the intercom to buzz her in. Totally not cool, but at least Charlie wasn’t there to see it.

He waited impatiently by the door and reminded himself to relax. He stretched his arms over his head and swung them back down just as he heard the bell announcing the elevator.

“Over here!” He stuck his head out and shouted down the hallway. There were a lot of apartments on his floor and it could take a while to make sense of the signage.

When Charlie turned the corner, he tried to hide his smile but then gave up. Just seeing her left him buzzing inside.

She’d dressed up for him in a pair of dark jeans and a dark green button-down shirt. Her chest was bound tightly, balancing out her full frame and adding to her masculine presence without fully erasing her femininity. That middle space between genders always turned him on, but Charlie made his breath catch in his throat. She’d dressed up for him.

There was a flash of lighter green sticking out of her pocket which he was almost certain, as she came closer, was a tie. How adorable was it that she’d pulled out a tie for their date and then forgotten to put it on? It was going to be crumpled now, and she’d probably be embarrassed when she realized it was there.

His smile grew wider.

She was stalking down the hall, practically marching, her posture confident and strong. So damn sexy, and he usually wasn’t attracted to people who presented themselves that way. Hell, she might even be offended if he suggested that she submit. Yet those were the thoughts that always danced through his head.

Her hair was wet, the short strands clumped together in little spikes that made him want to touch. When they’d met, she’d been mostly gray at the temples, but now her whole head was shot through with silver, glistening in the hallway light.