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6
Sam
It wasn’t as though Randi hadn’t come and gone from my house on her own before, so I felt comfortable texting her that the door was open, and I’d be in the backyard. Although Bob would disagree, I’ve dated plenty since my divorce years ago. Yet I couldn’t recall the last time I cooked for a woman. Usually I’d take them out, take them home, maybe have sex and repeat when time permitted. Normally I was so busy that I didn’t have the luxury or the inclination to cook for someone other than myself.
But last night when I invited her here, I honestly was looking forward to cooking for her. I’m a master on the grill, and she was going to have the best steak she’d ever eaten. Not that the beach wasn’t nice last night, but there were too many people walking by, and privacy wasn’t something we had. It was a shame, because the sky had been filled with stars and the sound of the ocean provided the perfect background music.
Tonight, I had some smooth jazz playing to set, hopefully, a relaxing mood. I knew she had every intention of working after dinner. I didn’t. I was enjoying getting to know her, and with any luck, maybe I’d get to taste those sweet lips of her.
Don’t bring up work. Not mine. Not hers.
I stoked the hibachi grill and the charcoal was hot. The steaks were seasoned and resting. Now all I needed was for Randi to arrive and I could put them on the grill.
“Hi,” her sweet voice called out from the open sliding door on the deck.
I turned around to greet her, but I was left speechless. She took my breath away. She wasn’t dressed fancy at all, instead she was wearing a pair of jean shorts that showed off her legs, and a spaghetti string white top that cupped her breast pushing them up high. I could barely take my eyes off the luscious creamy peeks. Forcing myself to meet her gaze, I noticed she wasn’t wearing any make-up.
Damn it. You’re naturally beautiful and it’s sweet torture.
I walked over and gave her a quick hug, but letting her go wasn’t what I wanted. Unfortunately, her hands were full, so I didn’t really have much of a choice.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I put the potato salad in the refrigerator,” she said. “And I grabbed the corkscrew.”
“That’s fine.” I took the wine from her, opened and poured us each a glass. “What should we toast to?” I asked as I handed her the glass.
“How about good food and a great conversation,” she said, tipping her glass towards mine.
Our glasses touched and we took a sip. I could have added something to that toast, but it wouldn’t have been…appropriate. Like hot sex. That would’ve been Bob’s style. He had no problem being so…crude. Randi might design sex rooms, but she still deserved to be treated like a lady.
“Why don’t you sit while I put the steaks on?” I said, knowing I needed something to keep my mind off her, if even just for a few minutes.
She nodded and went to sit on the hanging wooden swing, built for two. I laid the steaks on the grill. I knew it would take several minutes on each side so there was no reason why I couldn’t go and chat with her while waiting. But even with my back to her, I could feel her watching me. What I didn’t know was what she was thinking.
“I’m not used to sitting and doing nothing. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?” she offered.
Several things came to mind, so I chose the only safe one. “I set the table inside, but if you’d rather we eat out here, you can grab the plates and silverware.”
I heard a loud screech and spun around to see Randi leaping from the swing, her wine glass tipping towards her in the process and her pretty white shirt, covered in red wine.
“Oh, damn it,” she said.
I rushed to her side. “What happened?”
“A wasp came right up to my face, and I thought it was going to sting me. When I went to brush it away, it became more aggressive,” she stated, still looking around as though the wasp wasn’t far.
“It’s okay. I think he’s gone. But your shirt is ruined,” I said.
She shook her head. “All I need to do is soak it in cold water with some Dawn soap. Don’t happen to have any of that, do you?”
“I do. It’s in the kitchen by the sink,” I said.
She sighed. “I need one more thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A shirt to wear.”
“That’s easy enough. You can use the bathroom downstairs to clean up and I’ll go grab you a shirt.”
