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Invite me inside, I silently urge her, just as her hands move from my back to the front of my coat.Then I feel her palms slide against my shirt.I’d swear they’re savoring the ripple of my muscles as they venture across my torso, firing me inside.
She pulls her face back from mine almost with a gasp and her lips part as though she’s about to say something.
And I’m hoping it’s an invitation inside.
But again, I see the hesitation.I’m not used to seeing this from women.So I take the safest road, even though it pains me.
“Are you free after Christmas?”I ask, remembering how she had told her son she had plans.
“Yes.”
The word comes out in a hot rush, and I’m wishing she was saying it to me in response to a different question.
“How about we do something?”I suggest vaguely, needing a little time to plan something that won’t scare her away again.
“I’d love that.”
“Great.I’ll call you.”Truer words have never been said.
She presses her lips together for a moment before giving me a resolute nod.Then she digs into her purse for her keys.
After she steps through her door, I dare to lean into her one last time, and touch my lips briefly to hers.Then I whisper, “No more oil changes though.”
She grins at me as I turn on my heel and force myself to step away, even though every cell in my body wants to turn around and be with her just a little longer.
Or alotlonger.Whatever she’d allow.
