AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I blinked at him. “What did you tell her about me?”
He came closer. So much closer that I had to tilt my head way back to look up at him. He bent his neck so his face was close to mine.
“I told her you were a pretty blonde with a great smile who’s workin’ two jobs and takin’ care of her disabled mother at the same time.”
My body got tense. I had an uncomfortable feeling that this was a pity dinner, maybe in more ways than one.
He felt me tense. “Steady there,chiquita.Mamájust knows you’re workin’ hard and you need a quiet night. After followin’ you around for a couple of days, I need a quiet night too. That’s all this is. She was tryin’ to be nice.”
“I don’t like people knowing about me,” I told him, my body still stiff as a board.
“I already got that.”
We were at a standoff and just staring at each other.
Then I smelled him and I started to slip into an Eddie Daze. My body began to relax and then it began to tingle.
“I’m hungry,” I told him, trying to shake the Daze.
His hand came to my jaw and his eyes got warm.
“Me too.”
He wasn’t talking about food and my belly began to feel funny.
“We should eat,” I said.
His lips turned up at the corners and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
“Yeah, we should eat.” His voice was low and kind of hoarse and I wondered what he was thinking about eating.
I slid out from in front of him and took a mental deep breath.
“What can I do to help?” I asked, trying to sound bright and cheery.
He smiled at me. He knew exactly how he affected me and I found it perversely attractive and annoying.
He opened the wine and told me where the plates were.
His mom had cooked homemade tamales, Spanish rice, refried beans and made a salad. The rice and beans were in a divided crock pot, the salad in the fridge and the tamales staying warm in the oven.
We piled up our plates and went to the dining room.
Eddie lived in a one-story bungalow in Platte Park. I hadn’t taken much in the last time I was there and the night before I’d waited (more like dozed) in the truck while he packed a bag.
When he flipped the light switch I saw it was living room up front with a gorgeous tiled fireplace and a couch and armchair, both built less for decoration and more for roominess, comfort and durability. To the left were two bedrooms, separated by a bath and a small hall. The floors were hardwood and looked like they’d recently been redone. The walls were painted a warm sage. There were no decorative touches, pictures on the wall or fancy furniture. Just a thick rug in front of the couch with a coffee table on it.
The living room led into a dining area with a beat-up wood table and ladder-back chairs, a bay window and a built-in hutch with mirrored back and glass-fronted doors. There was nothing in the hutch.
I stared at the dining room table.
Eddie did too and then he said something in Spanish that sounded half annoyed, half amused.
It had been laid with placemats, silverware, napkins and candles.
I didn’t think Eddie was the type of guy who owned cloth napkins or candles and I began to wonder about the “pity” part of his mom’s dinner. I started to wonder more if Eddie’s mom was kind of like mine.
We sat down and Eddie didn’t bother lighting the candles.
