by ANDREA SMITH
That’s it?
That’s fucking it?
As much as my initial instinct was to jump up into his arms and wrap my legs around him in a vise-like grip, I had resisted the urge. I wasn’t about to let him think that he’d gotten under my skin.
“You never know,” I replied, smiling. “Thanks for your help, Agent Trevani. My ability was useless without someone believing me and you did. I appreciate that.”
I had held my hand out for him to shake. He studied me carefully with those probing brown eyes of his, and finally extended his hand to shake mine. He gave it an extra little squeeze before releasing it.
“Are you leaving now?” I asked.
“Yeah, headed to the airport.”
“Safe travels,” I said, giving him a hollow smile. I watched as he left, feeling for some reason as if he’d taken part of me with him.
I have just finished up taking inventory of the rest of the winter parkas on the shelves in back of the Pro Shop, when I hear the familiar tinkling of the bell on the door in front. I scribble down the SKU number and the count and then head out to the front of the store to see to the customer. It’s kind of slow this time of year, which is fine by me since I’m no whiz at this yet.
“May I help—?” I start to ask when suddenly my eyes lock with those incredibly gorgeous amber ones belonging to Marco Trevani, Jr.
What the hell?
“A handshake?” he asks, his eyes dancing with amusement and disbelief. “I go to leave and you offer me a fucking handshake?”
“Agent Trevani,” I greet, trying like hell to keep my voice level and thanking God he can’t tell that my pussy is clenching at the close proximity of our bodies, “Now don’t tell me you’ve come all the way back from Denver to ask me about that?”
He laughs and it’s sexy and my eyes are locked on that beautiful mouth of his that is so fucking magical…
“Of course not, mia caro, I just wanted to stop by and see how you’ve been.”
“Okay. So you couldn’t call to find out?”
“I apologize for not calling first, but I’ve been extremely busy these past few weeks.”
No doubt.
“Carving lots of notches into your bedpost must be keeping you pretty damn busy, huh?”
“Ah, don’t be like that, baby. No, actually, I’ve been busy with the move.”
“The move?”
“Yeah, the damndest thing happened. One of the field agents in Salt Lake got an unexpected transfer to Little Rock. They asked me if I minded taking his position, so what could I say, huh? I’m a team player if nothing else.”
Holy shit!
“So, you’re based in Salt Lake City now?”
“That’s right. I’ve recently moved into an apartment until my condo sells in Denver.”
“Oh, so it’s a permanent move?”
“Time will tell,” he replies, flashing me one of his signature smiles. “So, at any rate, I was wondering if perhaps we might have dinner some night soon.”
“Dinner?”
“That’s right.”
I lean over the counter, resting my arms on the glass display case. “Well, I have an idea, Agent Trevani. I also have my own place now. A chalet right here at the resort. It’s got a kick-ass kitchen that I’ve yet to put to good use. How about I make dinner for the both of us?”
“You? Cooking?”
“I’m offended,” I reply with a pout.
“On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“No more of this fucking ‘Agent Trevani’ stuff, got it? I like the way ‘Marco’ sounds on your lips.”
“Deal, Marco.”
“When?” he asks.
“Tonight?”
“You have the necessary preparations to make dinner for us tonight?”
“Absolutely. I’ll even give you a choice of entrees?”
“What are my choices, mia caro?”
“Beef or chicken.”
“Hmm…chicken.”
“Great.”
I glance at the wall clock. “Timing is perfect. I’m closing up.”
Twenty minutes later, Marco is driving his shiny black government-issued SUV around the winding asphalt road as I direct him to my chalet, which is nestled deep in the woods.
“I’m impressed,” he says, pulling up to the parking spot. “No car of your own yet?”
“I’m working on it, Marco. I’m not raking in the bucks that I used to when modeling. I’m learning to economize.”
“Not scrimping, right?”
“Absolutely not. You will love this meal.”
Once inside, I give him a quick tour of the place and then get him settled in the great room with a glass of Merlot and ESPN on the flat screen. “I’ll go and see to dinner.”
I pull a beef pot pie and a chicken pot pie from the freezer, reading the directions carefully, setting the oven to the designated temperature and poking slits into the top crust as directed. Once they’re in the oven, I join him on the sofa.
“Dinner will be in about fifty-five minutes,” I announce.
“What shall we do until then?” he asks, his eyebrow arching playfully.
“Well, I’m sort of in the mood for an appetizer,” I comment, allowing my eyes to flicker scandalously over his body.
“I see,” he replies smoothly, his amber eyes returning the favor. “What type of appetizer do you have in mind?”
“I think I’m in the mood for Italian,” I purr lasciviously.
“Is that right?” he cocks a brow seductively.
“I think I’d like them served in the master suite, that is of course, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested,” he says, standing up and pulling me with him. “I’ve got quite an appetite myself for something sweet.”
1970's Slang Dictionary
Ball (v.) fuck
Balled (v.) fucked
Bogart (v.) monopolize
Boogie (v.) dual meanings: party; leave
Book (v.) leave; depart
Bubblegum (adj.) as in 'bubblegum music' - songs primarily listed on the AT-40 (American Top 40) and played on AM radio stations.
Bubble-Rock (adj.) music that was a combination of hard rock and bubblegum.
Chocolate Mescaline
i.e., Chocolate Mes (n.) a.k.a. Chocolate microdots; a naturally occurring psychedelic alkaloid found in peyote cactus, harvested and mixed with cocoa as a bonding agent and manufactured in pill form. Effects similar to LSD.
Copping (v.) getting; acquiring
Doobie (n.) part of a joint
Far Out (adj.) Cool, groovy, hot
Freaks (n.) stoner; pothead, druggie
Get Down (v.) Fuck
Got Down (v.) Fucked
'Luded Out (adj.) fucked-up on ludes.
'Ludes (abr.) abbreviation for Quaaludes
Mellow (adj/v.) chill; relax
Mr. Natural (n.) A form of acid; typically refers to Blotter Acid whereby several drops of pure LSD are dropped on to a small piece of paper. The paper containing the blot of acid is ingested.
Pecker (n.) Penis; Dick
Plastic (adj.) Fake
Quaaludes (n.) Barbiturates; downers
Roach Clip (n.) To your parents: a keychain, I swear!
Sopers (n.) methaqualone; barbiturates with an anti-anxiety content; depressants.
Split (v.) leave; depart
Toke (v.) Hit; drag
8-Track (n.) Predecessor of the cassette tape; much larger.
45 (n.) The size/playing speed of a vinyl record played on a "record player" or stereo. One song on each side. "A" side was the main song, "B" or "flip side" was a lesser known song.
About the Author
Andrea Smith is a USA Today Best Selling Author. She has been self-publishing fiction since September of 2012. Her first series, the Baby Series, has now been released as an e-copy boxed set entitled, “Past Tense, Future Perfect.”
Her second series, the G-Man Series, c
onsists of stand-alone books, but they are most enjoyable when read in order:
1) Diamond Girl
2) Love Plus One
3) Night Moves
3.5) G-Men Holiday Wrap
Ms. Smith’s most recent work prior to starting the “Limbo Series” is the novel, “These Men” which was originally released as part of the Bend Anthology earning USA Today Best-Selling status. “These Men” can now be purchased separately as an e-book and paperback.
The Limbo Series:
1) Silent Whisper
2) Clouds in my Coffee
Ms. Smith will also be releasing a novella titled, “Jaded” as part of a multi-author Christmas Anthology late December 2014 entitled “Intrigue.”
Please reach out to her on Facebook:
www.facebook.com/AndreaSmithAuthor
And keep up with her current releases by checking out her Amazon Author Page.
