by Harper Bliss
“Unlike you, I don’t like people in my business.” Again, she asked her dad if there was a game on.
He nodded, but didn’t get up.
“Guess I’ll watch it on my own, then.” Eileen fled the library, muttering, “Joyous family time,” once she was out of earshot.
Chapter Ten
“I’ll drive,” Eileen said, and put a hand on the shopping cart. “I miss driving an actual car, so the least you can do is give me control over this vehicle.” She had a relaxed smile on her face. “You can fill this baby up.”
“Happy to hand the steering wheel over to you.” Naomi pulled up the shopping list she’d made on her phone earlier. “Do you want me to put something on the list for you?”
“I’ll just be inspired as we go along.” Eileen pushed the cart in front of her with one arm. It veered to the right immediately.
Instinctively, Naomi reached for it to bring it back on course.
“I’ve got it,” Eileen said. “Mack says I need to start using my other arm more, so that’s what I shall do.”
Naomi watched how Eileen, with a grimace on her face, put her other hand on the bar of the shopping cart. She started moving it forward again and it didn’t veer so much to the right now, although it hardly followed a straight line either.
“Where did you get your driver’s license?” Naomi joked. “Or are you from the generation that had it handed to them without having to take the test?”
Eileen shot her a look, then refocused on pushing the cart forward. “What’s for dinner, wise-ass?”
“You’ll see.”
“Well yes, I am in charge of the shopping cart.” Eileen stopped and turned to look at Naomi. She seemed a little tired underneath the harsh glare of the supermarket lights, but her eyes shone just as brightly. “Either way, I’ve been having mostly take-out, so I won’t be a difficult customer.”
“Customer?” Naomi cleared her throat ostentatiously. “And here I was, roaming this supermarket, on the look-out for the best ingredients, under the impression that you were my date.”
“Right.” Eileen nodded. “I might have lived in Britain for too long, though. A country where it’s not customary to go to the supermarket together to start off a date.” She shot Naomi a wink.
If anything, Eileen had brought her sense of humor with her. She seemed much more relaxed than on their previous attempt at a date—although perhaps Naomi had been a bit quick classifying it as such.
They’d reached the produce section and Naomi stopped. They could banter for the next half hour, but it wouldn’t fill their shopping cart.
She caught Eileen gazing longingly at a bag of lettuce.
“What does that lettuce have that I don’t?” she asked.
Eileen burst out laughing.
Naomi loved it when Eileen’s lips curved all wide like that.
“You try having pizza from Jimmy’s and burritos from that place around the corner of the hospital as your main sources of sustenance for a few weeks. I dare say you’d be making eyes at some lettuce as well.”
Naomi grabbed a bag and put it into the shopping cart. “It’s there for the taking, you know. I’m not sure how they did things in London, but this is how it works over here.” Naomi just wanted that smile to reappear on Eileen’s face.
“Even making—” Eileen didn’t smile, nor did she finish her sentence—she didn’t have to. She looked at her right hand sitting limply on the shopping cart.
“Look what else we have on display here.” Naomi waved her hand dramatically along the shelf. “All the ingredients to make your own salad.” She grabbed a bag of chicken strips and placed it in the cart. Then proceeded to do the same with packets of matchstick carrots, beets, and already peeled hard-boiled eggs. “You’re back in America, where we make things very easy for you.” She pointed at the products in the cart. “That’s tomorrow’s lunch right there.”
“Easy?” Eileen said. “Lazy you mean. I should fit right in, then.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Naomi said. “It will only keep you from moving forward.”
“You know,” Eileen said, “for a twenty-something, you do seem to have all the wisdom.” She started pushing the cart, away from the produce section.
“Hold up.” Naomi grabbed some broccoli and put it in the cart.
“And of course, you would enjoy eating broccoli,” Eileen said.
Naomi suspected the smile wouldn’t be back for a while, but at least Eileen was back to grinning at her—albeit rather sheepishly at the moment.
“Please, do reserve your judgment until you’ve tasted my dish.”
“Yes, chef,” Eileen said. “From here on out, at least for the rest of this date, I shall put my trust in you and your culinary skills.”
“What’s my job?” Eileen asked, once they were at Naomi’s apartment.
“Sit on that chair and keep me company.” They had unloaded the groceries and Naomi had separated the ingredients for Eileen’s salad into a bag and stored it in the back of the fridge.
“Can’t I even pour us some of that wine we just bought?” Eileen had almost outmaneuvered Naomi at the cash register and slipped the woman at the checkout her credit card to pay for all the shopping. It was only after some heavy debating—in front of the baffled cashier—that Eileen allowed Naomi to split the bill for the groceries for tonight.
“Can you manage that?” Naomi looked up from the broccoli she was chopping.
“That’s why I chose a bottle with a screw top.” Eileen grabbed the bottle from the counter. “Behold my skill, young Naomi,” she said theatrically reaching for the bottle.
Naomi stopped chopping and focused all her attention on Eileen. She was wearing jeans and a loose shirt and somehow managed to look completely scrumptious in it.
Eileen propped the bottle between her thighs and unscrewed the top with her left hand. She tossed the screw cap onto the counter and held up the bottle of wine with a triumphant grin on her face. “Voila.”
“Goodness me. I’m utterly blown away by your dexterity,” Naomi dead-panned. “Best keep it up and impress me with your pouring skills after the dazzling display you just made of unscrewing that bottle.”
“Where are your wineglasses?” Eileen deposited the bottle onto the table.
“Behind me. Top shelf,” Naomi said.
“On it.” Eileen moved behind her, but Naomi’s kitchen was small, and Eileen briefly put a hand on Naomi’s hips as she turned to face the cupboard.
The sudden touch took Naomi straight back to the few minutes they had danced in the living room, their hips crashing together—preceding their first kiss. How would tonight end? A shiver ran up Naomi’s spine at the thought—at the possibility of it.
A few minutes later, when Eileen was safely back on the other side of the kitchen counter, she presented Naomi with a substantial glass of wine.
“Grocery shopping makes me thirsty,” Eileen said.
“It’s a thirst-inducing business.” Naomi sipped from the wine, which had been Eileen’s choice.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re preparing.” Eileen didn’t sit, but leaned over the kitchen counter. “I might have the world’s biggest dislike of broccoli.”
“And you only tell me now? You were right there when I bought it!”
“There’s always take-out, I guess,” Eileen joked.
“Or you can make us a salad,” Naomi said.
“Thanks to you, I actually could.” Eileen’s voice softened. “And I actually don’t mind broccoli that much.”
“When I’m done with this,” Naomi gazed into Eileen’s eyes, “you’ll barely notice it’s broccoli you’re eating.”
“In that case, I can hardly wait.” Eileen had stopped moving and even though there was a kitchen counter between them, she stood very close to Naomi. Almost as close as when they’d kissed.
“The secret’s butter.” Naomi swallowed hard.
“Butter’s the secret to many
a tasty dish,” Eileen said.
Naomi wasn’t sure they were still talking about butter. She smelled the aroma from the wine in Eileen’s glass, but on top of that, she could also make out Eileen’s perfume. It was fruity and light and Naomi had to stop herself from leaning over and inhaling more of it.
Her gaze was drawn to the hollow of Eileen’s neck, where it was exposed at the opening of her pale-blue shirt. She was beginning to regret not ordering take-out. This dish would take at least another half an hour to prepare, and already Naomi was having great trouble keeping from kissing Eileen.
But first, she needed to figure out whether Eileen was up to being kissed again. A repeat of what had happened last time would end things once and for all for them. They hadn’t suddenly miraculously closed the age gap between them, just because Eileen had successfully volunteered alongside Naomi at the hospital once. But it had, at the very least, brought them closer together again. And created the opportunity for this date.
Eileen was the first to pull back. She shot Naomi a quick grin and, at last, sat, taking her wineglass with her.
Naomi melted some butter in a pan before adding the broccoli, all the while keeping her back to Eileen.
They had all night to have a much-needed conversation about what this was exactly. Naomi turned to glance at Eileen, who seemed to be greatly enjoying the wine. Enjoy this date, she told herself, then see what happens. Because taking in the sight of Eileen like that, Naomi was damn certain she wanted something to happen.
Chapter Eleven
While Naomi busied herself putting the finishing touches on their dinner, Eileen asked, “Would it be okay for me to use your bathroom?”
“First you make me do the grocery shopping. Then cook you dinner. And, now you want to use my bathroom. Geez Louise, give you an inch and you take a mile.” Naomi laughed, sparking a sexy twinkle in her eyes.
“If I remember correctly, I did drive the shopping cart. No one appreciates the skill involved in looking like you’re contributing when doing the least amount of work.”
“Yeah, that’s the image that comes to mind when I’m with you. What’s the opposite of determined?” She arched a playful eyebrow.
“Lazy and we’ve already established I am with the ready-made salad ingredients.”
“Determined, stubborn, and frustrating. Those are the top three words that come to mind when I think of you.” Naomi chewed on her bottom lip, her long lashes fluttering, drawing even more attention to her stunning dark eyes.
Warmth pooled inside Eileen, but it was too soon to… “I sound challenging.”
“I love a challenge.” The slight twist of her lips was intoxicating. “The bathroom. Second door on the left.” Naomi jerked her head toward the hallway.
“Right. That’s how we started. Bathroom.” Eileen hesitated, watching Naomi watch her. “I should take care of that now.”
“I do appreciate women who are potty-trained.”
Eileen laughed. “And I like a woman with spunk.”
“Very good news for me. Now scoot or I’ll have to ban you permanently if you piddle on the floor.” She shooed Eileen away.
In the bathroom, Eileen was nearly struck dumb by the effort Naomi put into decorating a space that most would consider as purely functional. There was a lavender towel on a hook labeled hers in fancy painted script, and from the hole in the wall, Eileen gathered there had been another hook at one point. Jane’s perhaps. On an antique chest there were two soap dishes with homemade bars still wrapped in beautiful floral paper. A wire corset that bowed out was secured on a corner and one of Naomi’s bras dangled teasingly from a hook.
It wasn’t a bathroom, but a refuge from the daily grind. Eileen’s eyes found Naomi’s bra once again. Silk. Fire-engine red. Sexy as hell. She reached out with her left hand, but withdrew it before making contact. Not like this, Eileen thought. It would be better to wait to touch…
On the way back to the kitchen, flickering lights in the front room beckoned Eileen.
The scene brought another smile to her lips.
The silver teapot with flowers had been moved from the center of the table to a teacart off to the side. In its place was a candlestick, which wasn’t a candlestick in a traditional sense. Instead, it was an aluminum octopus, holding three glass lanterns with its arms while the remaining five limbs supported the body. Inside each lantern was a tealight. On the mantel of the fireplace was a cheerful wooden whale, with its tail curved upward supporting a small rowboat with yet another lit candle.
Naomi approached from behind, setting the plates down on the table. “Ah, I see you’ve found your way.”
“Hard not to with this little guy guiding me to port.” She patted the octopus on the table, staring deeply into Naomi’s beguiling eyes.
“I’m glad to hear it, because I thought you’d fallen in or something and I would have to rescue you.” Her wicked smile worked wonders on Eileen.
Not wanting to be outdone by the younger woman, Eileen decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, so to speak. “It takes time to go through someone’s medicine cabinet.” Eileen placed a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Everyone stocks up on anti-fungal products, lube, wart medicine, prescription-strength deodorant, lice shampoo, and anti-stink foot powder.”
Her face reddened. “I don’t have any of that… well, maybe lube… but that’s because… it prevents my nipples and inner thighs from chafing.”
Eileen’s jaw dropped.
Naomi’s face reddened further.
“I’m learning so much about you tonight,” Eileen chuckled.
“It’s not what you think.” Naomi seemed to regroup. “Every year I run the Boston Marathon to raise money for the children’s cancer ward. As it happens, lube is wonderful for preventing chafing.”
Eileen nodded. “Ah, I should have known it would be for something like that.”
With a hand on her jutted hip, Naomi demanded, “What does that mean?”
Eileen raised her left hand and mimed waving a white flag. “Don’t shoot, please. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. It’s just everything about you screams goodness.” The memory of the bra flooded her mind. Maybe not everything.
The corner of Naomi’s mouth quirked up. “You know, you can be adorable sometimes in a cranky old person kind of way.”
Eileen grinned. “I deserved that one, but you did toss in adorable so…” She shrugged her left shoulder as if saying she’d take advantage of the backhanded compliment.
“So…?” Naomi inched closer.
A wave of nervousness washed over Eileen. Her right arm felt heavier, and she bought some time by saying, “We should eat this beautiful dinner you prepared.”
Much to Eileen’s relief, Naomi seemed to comprehend the source of Eileen’s sudden shyness. “It would be rude to cook a delicious meal and not let you sample it.”
“I do love eating… dinner that is.” It was Eileen’s turn to blush.
Neither of them moved to take a seat at the table, the palpable desire building with each thundering heartbeat in Eileen’s chest.
Finally, Eileen said, “We shouldn’t let it get cold. Not after all of your effort to cook me a meal. For which, I’m truly grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart.
Naomi pulled out Eileen’s chair. “Please sit, madam.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm that rivaled a waiter in a three-star Michelin restaurant.
Eileen wanted to sweep Naomi into her arms, or arm rather, and kiss her deeply. Instead, Eileen took her seat and crossed her legs to tamp down the fire that was building below.
Naomi plopped onto her seat, pulling one leg underneath.
Her pose was charming and fit the personality of a woman with an octopus light fixture. “I love the nautical theme you have going.”
Naomi, with wineglass in hand, smiled sheepishly. “I’m a sucker for whimsical. Honestly, though, I don’t understand why anyone would surround themselves with serious things. Life’
s short. Live it while you can, dammit. That’s my motto. And, if having a little guy like this brings a smile to my face all the better.”
You’d hate my parents’ house.
Naomi picked up her fork, seeming to struggle for the right words to fill the emptiness. “Now, for tonight’s feast of salmon and buttered broccoli.”
“Who doesn’t love something fishy on a date?” Eileen winked.
Naomi groaned playfully. “You’re terrible, you know that.”
“You aren’t the first woman to say that to me.” The salmon was succulent and easy to fork with her left hand, which Eileen suspected Naomi had hoped for.
Naomi watched her take her first bite, her eyes momentarily focusing on her non-dominant hand. “Do you ever plan on talking about it?”
“Are you referring to sex?” Eileen waggled her brows. Naomi’s impressive overly exaggerated eye roll spurred Eileen to say, “Careful. It’d be a true shame if your eyes got stuck in the top of your head denying me the pleasure of staring into them.”
The flecks in Naomi’s dark eyes shone with desire. “While I do appreciate a sweet talker, I’m not that easily thrown off track.”
“Of course, you aren’t. You wouldn’t be you, if you were.” Eileen sighed. “There’s not much to talk about really. I had… a stroke, which you’ve already probably guessed.”
“Yes. I’ve worked with a few people at the hospital who held one of their arms in the same way.”
Eileen glanced down at her arm. “I try not to focus on it. In my line of work, I’ve seen so much and honestly, a useless arm isn’t such a big deal when compared to a child who’s lost a limb from a landmine.”
Naomi nodded her head. “I know it’s not the same, but when I’m having a truly horrendous day, I’ll pop down to visit the kids to get some perspective. It’s the look in the parents’ eyes that truly reminds me I’m blessed.”
“I admire your dedication to the kids. When people learn about all my assignments in war zones and how I’ve witnessed firsthand refugees attempting to escape, many claim they’d love to get involved. But their idea is to toss money at the problem.” Eileen shifted in her seat. “Look at Jane’s exhibit. While I understand her desire to raise awareness of the harsh realities in this world in an artistic way, I sincerely doubt Jane’s ever witnessed a tenth of the turmoil she tried to depict.”
