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She hesitated. I could tell she wasn’t used to anyone looking after her. I planned to do a lot of that going forward.
“Soda?”
“No soda!” she practically shouted over the moans of the kids. They had known she wouldn’t let them have soda. I made a mental note not to let her siblings trick me into breaking her rules. “I’ll make iced tea,” she added primly. I hid a smile.
“Back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” I said, jogging down the block toward Ma’s. I called ahead and ordered five pies, asking her to make one plain and give the rest a variety of the works. She asked who it was for, and once I told her, she was off to the races.
“A girl, huh?” was her greeting as I strolled in. I had no idea whether she was actually Italian or not, but the white-haired woman was tiny, adorable, and smart as a whip.
And she sure could cook.
“Irish,” she said affectionately, “come give me a kiss.”
I bussed her cheek, and she squeezed mine, giving me a noisy kiss.
“Too handsome for your own good,” she declared, finally releasing me. “Now who is this lady who is stealing my guy? She’d better be good enough.”
“She is. But it’s new. First date.”
“Five pies for a first date?” she asked, giving me the stink eye. “How tall is she?”
I laughed and shook my head. Of course, Ma would think my date was a big girl and approve of that as well.
“She has a lot of kids. Siblings.”
“Ah. Kids, eh?” she asked, grabbing some plastic-wrapped rubber toys from under the counter and shoving them toward me. “Put these in your pockets and they will love you forever.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
We decided to upgrade the side salads to the fanciest salads she could make, with all kinds of Italian goodies on top, and then she went even further. Ma threw in some cannolis and cheesecake, too.
“Ma, you shouldn’t have. I can barely carry all of this.”
“You will do just fine,” she said, giving my butt a slap. “Now go and get her!”
The pizza was a hit. So was the salad, especially with the college girls. And the toys kept Jessie from hollering for a full half an hour.
Nobody even asked for dessert.
Finally, Colleen and I sat on the front porch and shared some of the sweet stuff. We watched the kids play in the yard as the sun went down, with the background noise of happy squeals, giggling girls, TV, and some sort of dance song on repeat. Sitting there with her like that, I could see a different kind of life for myself. A life with her at the center of it.
A life worth living.
She stretched and started cleaning up the porch, accidentally knocking part of the railing over. She sighed and started putting it back together with the air of someone who had done it a hundred times.
“Need help with any of that? I’m pretty handy,” I offered, looking around and seeing all kinds of things that could be fixed up. Her landlord didn’t exactly take good care of the place. She was doing her best, but I could see it wasn’t enough.
“Oh, thank you. I . . .” She yawned and looked horrified as she slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Maybe another time. I could come back and see you . . . on Saturday?”
“I have a wedding this weekend. No bikers this time,” she joked.
“Good,” I said seriously, standing to face her. “What about Sunday?”
“Yes,” she said shyly. “I could do something on Sunday.”
I looked down into her beautiful face. I resisted the urge to run my hands up and down her arms.
I would do that and more. But not yet. I was one hundred percent sure the girl was a virgin. She wasn’t going to toss her skirt over her head on the first date, even if I wanted her to.
And I did want her to. More than anything. But more than my own selfish desires, I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be happy with me.
Rushing things wasn’t going to accomplish that.
I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Till Sunday, then.”
And then I did the hardest thing I’d done in my life to date. It felt unnatural to leave when every fiber of my being wanted me to stay.
I walked away.
Chapter Four
Colleen
The man towering above me was gentle as he pulled me close for a kiss. Our tongues tangled wildly as I melted against him. When he started to pull my clothes from my body, I didn’t protest.
I was just as eagerly pulling his shirt off his broad, muscular shoulders and pressing my lips to the lightly furred skin of his chest, tasting the faint salt on my lips. He made a sound of pure male appreciation. I wanted to hear that sound again. I wanted to do things to him . . . but I didn’t know what. Or how.
