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“I hear the wine is good here.” He winks at me.
I scoff playfully. “Oh, now I see what this is all about. You’re trying to get me drunk so that you can take advantage of me.”
“It’ll more than likely be the other way around, considering your history,” he counters.
I laugh. “Myhistory?”
He nods. “Oh yes, darling. I do recall you inviting me into your house just to trick me into taking my wet clothes off. And then you had me perform cunnilingus on you.”
His filthy claim sends a chill through my body. He did all of that willingly, and then he had sex with me without even bothering to use a condom. I still think of the risk we took, and the consequences it could still have.
No Plan B. I didn’t even think of it after he left. I was so caught up with preparing the house and starting work that I took no precautions against getting pregnant.
I can’t even imagine what it would be like to give birth to Avraam’s baby. Would he even stick around, or would fatherhood be too much for him to handle? As far as I know, he doesn’t have any children, and he’s in his mid-forties. Perhaps he doesn’t want any.
I dig into my plate, trying to forget the possibility that I could already be pregnant.
“I’ll skip the wine, if that’s alright,” I say, feeling a little sick to my stomach at the thought of accidentally harming our potential baby. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care all too much about Avraam and his unwarranted involvement in my life.
“Not a problem. I hear the water is also good,” Avraam says.
A laugh escapes my mouth. “It’s all jokes with you.”
“I’m a funny guy.”
“Right, and then you do this thing where you convince me to take my clothes off. I have your act down at this point.”
He raises a thick eyebrow. “Before we’re even finished eating? Naughty girl.”
“Sorry, this is too good to trade for sex,” I reply, moving a piece of steak into my mouth. “Delicious.”
He gives me a curious look, then continues eating, his eyes flickering up to me frequently. It’s difficult to get out of my head when he’s looking at me like that. I keep dropping my fork and spilling water down my chin. He probably thinks I’m a sloppy eater, but I’m normally very neat.
Finally, once we’ve both mopped up the red juices on our plates with the last of the steak and vegetables, we begin talking again.
“Oh, thank you for this,” I say, leaning back in my seat and placing my hand on my stomach. “I didn’t know you could get food this good in a town like this.”
“I have connections,” he says, dabbing his lips with a napkin.
“Care to share?”
“My little secret,” he replies with a smirk. “But you seem to have your own as well. What really brings you to Montana? I know you’re not from here.”
“Just work,” I reply in a manner that’s more nonchalant than the truth.
“Work may have brought you here, but something pushed you from the other end.”
We’re already getting too personal, and it’s not in a romantic sort of way. His question is direct and prying, something I’m not sure if I should answer truthfully. After all, he’s done his best to dodge my questions. Why should I answer his with any honesty?
“Lack of income,” I say, taking a careful sip of my water. “Can’t really get by when they don’t pay you enough back home.”
“Enough income to buy a house,” he replies just a little too quickly.
I pull my head back. “Alright, I didn’t know I had sat down to an interrogation. What’s this really about? I thought you wanted to surprise me with a cozy little dinner, and instead you’re grilling me like the steak we ate.”
He laughs off my concern. “Oh no, darling, I’m not pressuring you. Just getting to know you, but perhaps the sex is more interesting to you than any real connection.”
Now he’s trying to make me angry. Great. I gave him a chance and he’s already screwing it up.
