by Brenna Lyons
“So, the idea is to do something unusual?” he asked with renewed interest.
“Sort of. We’re doing things I don’t get to do every day, things I enjoy, and things that are no fun to do alone.” She cast an impish smile his way. “Don’t read too much into that last comment, by the way.”
Keith felt a tightness grip him, but he laughed lightly somehow, sure that she had planned that remark to get a reaction out of him. “I wouldn’t dare,” he promised her. Keith watched the exits for Wilkinsburg, Edgewood/Swissvale, and Forest Hills speed by before he spoke again. “Are we headed all the way to the turnpike?”
“Nope. Our exit is coming up in just a few minutes,” she assured him.
“Monroeville?”
“Yep.”
“We’re like—not hitting the mall, are we?” he asked in a falsetto valley girl voice.
“Nope.” She smiled and shook her head at the joke.
A few minutes later, she pulled into a small diner.
Keith read the sign in confusion. “The Park Classic Diner? I’ve never heard of it.”
Katie laughed. “Isn’t that the point? We’re doing what I want to do, right?”
“True. So, what do you want to do?”
“Eat lunch. I’m starved,” she confessed.
While Keith ordered fish and chips, Katie opted for a hot roast beef sandwich. While he enjoyed his food immensely, she reacted as if hers was pure delight. He watched as she closed her eyes and smiled in her enjoyment.
When she offered him a gravy fry, he readily agreed, anxious to see if it was really as good as she was making it out or not. To his delight, she used her fingers to hand over the fry. He took it with a wide smile, then desperate for any small touch he could get, he sucked in her fingers and licked the tips gently. Katie froze and swallowed as she watched him. Encouraged, he swirled his tongue in sensuous circles, which made her gasp. Keith released her fingers with one final lick and chewed the offered treat. She pulled back her hand slowly and looked at his mouth.
Katie looked away, but he was sure that she was considering what his mouth would feel like on other body parts, just as he was wondering if she tasted as sweet everywhere. What he wouldn’t give to know that.
He could have kicked himself. Why was he foolish enough to break his cardinal rule about being prepared? It all made perfect sense this morning. The brakes. He couldn’t push for more than she was willing to give. He couldn’t expect too much.
* * *
Katheryn tried to keep her mind on track, but she found herself drifting back to Keith’s mouth for the rest of the meal. It just didn’t seem fair. She remembered what touching him was like. She knew he had probably had experiences in the intervening years that added to or improved on the technique she remembered, but the tender torture he inflicted on her was totally outside anything Katheryn’s mind had concocted. She simply wasn’t prepared for it when it happened, and she wanted it again.
She was suddenly disinterested in the desserts she usually indulged in. Katheryn ordered a piece of chocolate cake to go and didn’t argue much when Keith insisted on paying for the date she was choosing. Finally, she herded him into the car and drove further down the strip to Miracle Lanes.
As she parked again, Keith spoke up. “Bowling? I wish you would have warned me.”
She raised an eyebrow his direction. “Problem?” she inquired.
“No, but I usually use my own ball. I would have brought it,” he offered with a wide smile.
Okay, so we like a few of the same things. “That would be an unfair advantage. If I’m stuck with the house balls, so are you,” she informed him. Katheryn blushed as he started to laugh. “I swear. If you say it, this date is over,” she warned.
“I won’t say it,” he assured her, though she could picture a half dozen responses dancing behind his eyes, and he knew she could see every one of them.
Inside, Keith decided to press his luck again. “Care to place a little wager on the set of three games?” he asked. “High score of the three wins?”
Katheryn eyed him suspiciously, though she refrained from trying to actively read his mind again. “What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing outrageous. If I win, we go out again next weekend, my choice of where to go this time. I promise not to choose the Grand Concourse.”
“What if I win?”
“Help me out. What would you like to win?” he offered.
Katheryn considered her options. She’d love to have the chance to experience more of that talented mouth. She’d love to disappear to some secluded spot with him, but she couldn’t admit that to him. “How about—you as my slave for a day?” she asked. That was innocuous enough. There was a lot of work she needed to get done on the house, and his help would come in handy. As an added bonus, she’d have an excuse to admire him while he worked, and if she made a more exotic request—She cut off the thought that neither of them would probably mind it very much.
Keith smiled a wicked smile. “I think I can promise that. It’s a bet.”
She blushed as she shook his hand on it, and his smile widened further.
Katheryn cursed herself inwardly. He was too damn perceptive for her good. She considered opening up to him just to put them back on even ground.
The first game went in her favor by a long shot, and she smiled at the thought of winning his services for a day. “Looks like making you use the house balls may have worked to my advantage,” she commented as she grabbed a nine pounder off the return rack to start the second game.
“I’m being handicapped,” he complained.
“How?” she asked over her shoulder as she took her mark and started forward.
“Watching you throw a ball is making me lose concentration.”
Abruptly aware of her position, Katheryn straightened as she released the ball, and it jerked off mark.
“Darn,” he exclaimed. “That was your first gutter ball, wasn’t it?”
Her face burned fiercely, and she uttered several colorful curses under her breath before she took her next shot. It may have been Katheryn’s first gutter ball, but it wasn’t her last. Her nerves were buzzing with activity.
Keith was watching. Every time Katheryn looked at him, he was watching in the most blatantly carnal way he could manage. His watching unnerved her, but she could feel a rush of excitement that he was watching, and that made it worse. What concentration her nervousness didn’t destroy, her wandering mind did.
Worse still, watching was having a noticeable effect on him. Katheryn found herself staring at the semi-erect bulge behind his jeans. Keith offered a knowing smile to her lingering observations, and Katheryn blushed deeply. While her game suffered, his improved drastically after that first game.
When Katheryn admitted defeat after the third game, she studied him carefully. “You just hustled me,” she decided.
Keith shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “Not really. If I would have raised the stakes after the first game or even suggested the bet after the first game, I would have hustled you. As it was, I just put a little extra effort into those next two games.” He moved closer so that his breath tickled her cheek. “You’re not going to welsh on the bet, are you?”
She moved away to pull off her rented shoes and dropped her eyes to the task. “Certainly not. I never refuse to pay a debt. I lost. That means we have a date next weekend.”
Keith dropped next to her, so close that his shoulder brushed hers while he removed his own shoes. “I can’t tell how you feel about that.”
“Cool it, shrink,” she warned. “The jury is still out on this date. I’ll decide how I feel about another once a decision has been reached on the first.”
“Fair enough. Where to next?”
“I could use a drink and some relaxation. How about you?”
“I could go get us a beer at the counter,” he offered, “and they have pinball in the back room.”
Katheryn looked at him in surprise. “When have you s
een me play pinball?” she asked.
Keith darkened, and he didn’t meet her eyes. “Senior year all-night bowling trip. You spent the entire night either at the last lane with Berta and Sherry or in the back room playing pinball. Never Ms. Pacman or any of the other video games. Always those two pinball machines, especially the one with the cartoon characters. You liked that one.”
When she spoke, her voice had a husky edge to it that she couldn’t seem to control. “You watched me all night?”
Keith finished tying his shoes and met her eyes. “Worst games I’ve ever played since my grandfather taught me to bowl,” he admitted. “I couldn’t concentrate on anything but you. If I thought Mrs. B wouldn’t have caught me—”
“What?” she prodded.
“I would have found some dark corner behind those machines and kissed you until you were as senseless as I was.”
“You were senseless? Well, I can picture that. Lack of common sense cooked you in the first place.” Katheryn returned her attention to the laces she was tying, so she wouldn’t have to keep looking into those damned hopeful, blue eyes of his. Those eyes were always her undoing.
He ran the back of his hand over her cheek gently, and she felt the warmth pooling in her gut. It was just wrong that he should be able to affect her like this.
“What did cook me the first time? I always wished I knew. Please, tell me.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, but she did answer. “Remember the night I barged into the boys’ dressing room at Stations?” she asked.
His voice dropped to a gravelly, intoxicating version that she had never heard before. “How could I forget? You were so brazen, so cool and unaffected. You stared us down in whatever states of semi-undress we were in, lobbed that box of costumes we missed, and turned on your heel without more than a light blush.” He sobered slightly. “And you were pissed off as all hell,” he reminded himself.
“I wasn’t embarrassed.”
“I could tell.”
“No, I mean the blush wasn’t in embarrassment. I was pissed off at all of you.” Katheryn met his eyes. “You and Scott worst of all,” she admitted.
He sobered completely. The ardor left his eyes. “What did I do? I mean, Scott was a pig, but me—”
Katheryn sighed and shook her head. “You don’t remember what you were discussing just before I walked through the door, do you?”
Keith managed a half-smile. “No, but the blood flow switched to the wrong head about that time, so—”
She didn’t return his smile. “You’d be better off admitting that the blood flow switched before I ever laid a hand on that door.”
His smile faltered, but he didn’t ask for clarification.
“Scott was giving you guys a speech about what great wife material the girls from your side of town were, but girls like me were only socially acceptable as disposable sack-mates. Yeah, that was a great conversation to have in a sacristy anyway.”
Keith blanched. “I didn’t agree with that. You know I didn’t.”
“Did I? I hoped you didn’t, but when the door opened, there you were laughing with the rest of those damned hyenas.”
“That’s why you broke off our date? That’s why you started going out with the felon-in-training?”
“Okay, so the plan wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “But at least I had the benefit of not being assumed to either be a gold-digger or a slut just for going out with him.”
“It wouldn’t have been that way,” he promised quietly.
“Wouldn’t it? Either you really believed what Scott said, in which case you only wanted to get me into bed, and well—it’s not like that would have been a totally unbelievable prospect all things considered. Or, you were submarined by peer pressure, in which case—You fold once, you’ll fold again, and my reputation would be the victim.”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“I couldn’t know that,” she countered.
“You weren’t even in the same class as the girls Scott meant—”
She cut him off. “Why not?” she demanded. “He was using a geographical criteria. By that measure, I was in the club. Even my friends were in the club. When was I ever welcome with the cheerleaders, unless I was saving them from summer school?”
“That’s what set you and your friends apart, Katie. You were elite, top three in anything you wanted to do. Sherry was the actress and stewardess rolled into one.”
“Tour Guide Barbie,” she offered.
“She was elite in her own way. Berta was—there’s no way to describe her except that she had a heart as big as the rest of us put together. Plus, she kept good company,” he joked.
“If we were so elite, why weren’t we welcome unless we were useful,” she asked pointedly.
“You were elite. You were above those foam-domes and they knew it. You had depth that they couldn’t hope for. While you were writing and tutoring and acting, they were busy jumping around in short skirts and spending their allowance at Century Three and Monroeville Mall.”
“They didn’t treat us as if we were elite. They acted like we were untouchable.”
He shrugged. “They ignored you like the true lowlifes ignored them. Besides, you never demanded more than a minimum of respect. You wouldn’t—”
“So, you’re saying that dating me would have been a step up for you?” She raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
“In more ways than you can imagine. Wasn’t it for the felon?”
“Anything would have been a step up for him.”
His jaw tightened.
She smiled. “You’re jealous of him, aren’t you?”
Keith darkened and hunched forward with his arms crossed over his chest. “I hated him. He had everything I wanted until he screwed it up. When he started spouting off about your dates—” He looked away. “Part of me prayed he was lying, and part of me wanted to tear him limb from limb in case he wasn’t.”
Katheryn studied her hands. “I’m sure most of it was lies. He didn’t have a lot to brag about—literally. He could only make a few good stories out of what there was.”
Keith looked back to her. “Then, you two did—” He didn’t finish.
She sighed. “I told you I made mistakes.”
He nodded grimly.
“I can take you home if you like,” Katheryn offered, trying to affect a grounded appearance.
Keith shook his head. “No. It took me fifteen years to get this chance. I’m playing it out.” He met her eyes and smiled weakly. “If I had pursued the issue more strenuously then, maybe we wouldn’t have made all the mistakes we have.”
Katheryn nodded and grabbed the shoes. Keith held back while she turned them in but stepped forward to pay when she reached for her wallet.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Want that beer now?” He motioned to the refreshment stand.
She scrunched her nose in distaste. “Arn Shitty?” she drawled in a heavy Pittsburgh accent. “I have a better idea.”
* * *
Keith took in the sight of the little bar and restaurant. It looked like a pit from the outside, small dark painted wood. The inside, however, was warm and homey.
As soon as they were in the door, an older woman rushed over to capture Katie in a bear hug. “Bonita! It’s been so long. You come in and have some food. We’ll set you up at the quiet table.”
“No Mama Toni, I’ve had lunch already, but I promise I’ll come back out again soon. I just stopped by for a quick drink.”
The older woman tsk-tsked her and shook her head. “This is early for you, Bonita. You’re not going the way of your grandfather, are you?”
Katie laughed. “No. I’m only having one. I promise.”
The woman turned and took Katie’s arm to lead her to the bar. “Even one of your usual and you have a cab to leave—or you stay for dinner and catch up.”
“They’re not that strong. But, I promise to either sit it out an hour and a half or have Keith drive,
okay?”
“Okay. I just worry for you. That drink lands most young ladies on their tails.”
“See. Now that’s your problem. I’m no lady. Besides, you worry too much.”
Keith marveled at the interaction. When they were seated at the bar and Mama Toni had left with their drink orders—a Rolling Rock for Keith and something called a Bushwhacker for Katie—he turned to her. “How do you know so much about Monroeville?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I spend a few days here with Sherry and her family every trip into town.”
“And Mama Toni? She acts like you spend a lot of time here.” Keith tried to be calm, but the disquieting thought that she might be spending too much time staring at the bottom of a glass was more painful than he wanted to face. Katie brought him here for a reason, he was sure. This was something she obviously did often and alone.
She laughed. “She makes the best fajitas you’ll ever eat.”
He eyed her warily.
“Oh, yeah. She’s also Sherry’s mother, so she has been worrying about me since I was five. It’s a hard habit to break.”
Keith nodded and smiled at Mama Toni as she set down the drinks. He eyed Katie’s drink in surprise. It was an ice cream drink. Mama Toni was worried about an ice cream drink? Curiosity got the better of him.
“Can I taste that?” he asked as Katie took a mouthful from it.
“Sure.” She pushed the drink his way.
Keith took a long pull on it. It had a little bite, but it tasted like a rich chocolate milkshake. He nodded in appreciation and pushed it back to her. “Cute,” he observed. “That’s a nice little drink.” He hoped his relief wasn’t as obvious as it felt to him.
Mama Toni shook her head in disgust as he washed down Katie’s milkshake with a swig of his beer. “That’s what they all think,” she commented acidly. “There are seven alcohols in that cute little drink, but it seems so innocent.”
Keith coughed on a mouthful of his beer in shock.
Katie started to laugh. “Don’t scare him, Mama. That’s not nice It’s only half shots of each, and the only hard liquor is the 151. It’s fluff with a little kick.”
