Sweet Stallion

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “No, but it sounded good.”

  She laughed again. “It sounds a little desperate.”

  “You do that to me. You’ve got my confidence shook.”

  “I do not!”

  “You’ve got me all nervous and tense. I don’t even know how to act when I’m thinking about you.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t think about me then.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

  “You’re definitely that kind of guy!” she said with a soft giggle.

  Patrick laughed with her. “I just wanted to hear your voice and to tell you again what a great time I had with you.”

  “So, what are you doing on Tuesday?”

  Patrick’s excitement rose tenfold, ringing in his voice. “Having dinner with you again, I hope.”

  “If you don’t mind a raw, organic meal, I’ll cook. Would seven o’clock work for you?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Naomi’s grin was canyon wide. Her voice dropped an octave as she murmured, “Good night, Patrick!”

  “Good night, beautiful.”

  * * *

  She liked him. Naomi couldn’t remember the last time any man had her so excited, but Patrick had butterflies quivering with a vengeance in the pit of her stomach. He made her laugh and he reminded her of things that brought her the greatest joy: sunshine, summer rain, caramel candies, her farm and her family.

  She enjoyed the banter the two shared, their back-and-forth feeling easy and comfortable. The ease of it all had her feeling out of sorts, unable to fathom any relationship that could make her so relaxed and secure. But there was something very special about Patrick O’Brien and she was loving everything blooming sweetly between them.

  With the barest whisper of a sigh, Naomi reached to extinguish the light on the nightstand. She rolled to the other side of the bed, pulling the bedcovers up around her torso. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to relax and settle down against the mattress. Minutes later, sleep pulled her into a quiet lull, embracing her steadily as she said a prayer that Patrick might stroll through her dreams.

  Chapter 7

  Patrick shuffled the last manila folder on his desk into a side drawer and then locked it with a small key positioned on his key chain. He stole a quick glance at his wristwatch. He had just enough time to run home and change into something more casual before his dinner date with Naomi. A wide grin creased his face as he thought about spending more time with her.

  They had talked every day since she’d extended the invitation. A few times he had wanted to rush things, anxious to see her again, but he didn’t want to appear overly eager and scare her away. But he really wanted to spend time with Naomi, to see her laugh again, to maybe hold her close if the opportunity presented itself. He thought about doing that and smiled.

  The moment was interrupted when Garrison barged into his office, immediately noting what had to be a cheesy grin on his face. “What are you so happy about?”

  Patrick shook his head. “Can’t I just be happy?”

  His friend eyed him skeptically. “Do you want to go grab a drink? Jessica canceled on me.”

  “Who’s Jessica?”

  “A little hottie I met at the bar last night. She’s a flight attendant and had to go fill in for a friend. She’s headed to Toronto and she’ll be back later this week. I’ll get the goodies then.”

  Patrick shook his head. “What happened to you and Bridgette? The last time we talked you were talking about getting engaged.”

  “I’m still planning to get engaged. But I also plan to have me a little on the side when it’s necessary, and Jessica was definitely necessary.”

  Patrick’s smile segued into a deep frown. “That is so not cool. In fact, that’s downright trifling.”

  “You should try it. You might like it.”

  Patrick shook his head emphatically. “One day that mess is going to catch up with you and burn your ass good!”

  “They have penicillin shots for that.”

  Patrick chuckled.

  “So, does that mean you’re good for that beer now, or what?”

  “Sorry, boy. I’ve got plans.”

  “What are you doing?” Garrison eyed him curiously. “What’s her name?”

  “I’m having dinner with a friend.”

  “I know all your friends. Which one?”

  “She’s new. Someone you don’t know.”

  There was a momentary pause as the two men stood staring at each other. Garrison laughed. “You’re seeing that Stallion woman again, aren’t you? That must have been some good stuff!”

  Patrick’s expression hardened. “Don’t be crass. And watch how you talk about her.”

  Garrison dropped to the edge of the desk. His gaze narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You really like this woman, don’t you?”

  Patrick didn’t bother to respond, his eyes darting around the room to avoid meeting his friend’s. He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m getting to know her and yes, what I know so far I really like.”

  Garrison rolled his eyes. “You’re sleeping with the enemy. And I thought you were my best friend.”

  “You really need to grow up.”

  “There’s no fun in that. So, when are we going to double date so I can get to know your new honey?”

  “I’m not double dating with you.”

  “I’ll bring Bridgette, and not one of my side pieces, since you like her so much. And I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”

  “No.”

  “Well, I would hate our first meeting to be at your wedding. Or mine, since we’re planning on being each other’s best man. So, dinner and a movie with my girl and yours should happen sometime soon. I’m just saying.”

  Reaching for his briefcase, Patrick gave his friend a nod. “Good night, Garrison.” Exiting the office, he headed for the elevator doors, his buddy’s laughter echoing behind him.

  * * *

  The ride home was cathartic as Patrick set aside the workday and got his mind focused on dinner with Naomi. His brief encounter with Garrison had left a bad taste in his mouth. He had often ignored his friend’s womanizing ways, chalking it up to the adage that boys would be boys. Knowing now that Garrison proudly emulated his father’s bad habits, and his father’s bad habits had devastated an entire family, had Patrick feeling out of sorts. He found himself reevaluating what he’d previously thought would be a lifelong friendship. Wondering if it had finally run its course.

  The short ride through downtown, with Tupac blasting through the sound system, finally shifted his mood, angst replaced with anticipation. He’d been looking forward to this dinner date since the invitation had been extended. Hearing Naomi’s voice over the telephone was no longer enough. He wanted to see her, to be with her in the same space. His wanting had become the sweetest craving.

  An hour later, after a hot shower, and his favorite Acqua Di Gio cologne splashed in all the right places, all he could think of was Naomi and getting to her as quickly as possible. He donned a comfortable pair of denim jeans, a casual T-shirt and a pair of Nike flip-flops. With one last glance in his full-length mirror to check that all was in place, he grabbed his keys and raced out the door.

  * * *

  Naomi julienned the last zucchini through a mandoline, watching the thin, curly slices fall easily into a bowl. Minutes later, she’d tossed the thin strips with a fresh pesto made of basil, garlic, olive oil, a splash of lemon juice and freshly grated Parmesan cheese. After sliding the bowl into the refrigerator, she washed up the last of the dishes, took a second glance around the room to ensure everything had been tidied up and took off her apron, to wait for Patrick.

  Excitement teased her emotions as she checked the di
ning table for the umpteenth time and fluffed the pillows that decorated the living room sofa. With the dinner hour approaching, she finally poured herself a glass of white wine to calm the anxiety that churned through her stomach. She was excited to be seeing him again, and felt energy rippling like a current through her body. She paced from one side of the house to the other to see if she’d forgotten anything. Just as she thought about turning on the stereo, the doorbell rang, signaling Patrick’s arrival.

  After moving quickly toward the front door, she stole one last glance at her reflection in the mirror above the console table in the foyer. She pulled off the scrunchie that held her dreadlocks in a loose ponytail and shook the thick strands free with her fingers. She clenched her teeth together in an exaggerated smile, then pursed her lips. The lightly tinted lip gloss she wore glistened slightly and there was just enough color to her face that she looked refreshed. She took a breath, counted to ten and then pulled the front door open.

  “Hi,” she said, her smile bright and inviting. She reached for his hand and pulled him in, closing the door behind them.

  Patrick grinned. “Hi!” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze as he leaned to kiss her cheek. His lips lingered just long enough to stall her breath and have perspiration simmer just beneath her skin.

  “Hi,” she repeated, her smile widening. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “I would not have missed this date for anything in the world!” he declared fervently.

  She nudged his shoulder as she gestured for him to follow her into the living space. “Would you like a drink?” She moved to the counter and the bottle of wine she’d left resting there. “I have wine, water, juice. And I’m sure if I looked in all my brother’s hiding places I could probably find a bottle of soda pop or two.”

  Patrick grinned. “I’ll take whatever you’re having,” he answered.

  “Wine it is!” she said, as she filled an empty glass. “So, how was your day?”

  He nodded as he moved to take a seat in an oversize recliner. “It was good. Busy. I spent most of it reviewing contracts. The best part of my day happened about five minutes ago.”

  Confusion washed over Naomi’s face. “What happened five minutes ago?”

  “You opened your front door and smiled at me.”

  Naomi laughed. She shook her head as Patrick laughed with her. She moved to the chair beside his and sat down, passing him his own glass of wine.

  “So, how was your day, honey?” he said, his tone teasing as he shifted his eyebrows at her.

  “My days are always good. I was at the farm for most of it and then here to get ready for you. I’d say I had a great day, too.”

  Patrick gave her a slight nod. He shifted forward in his seat, his forearms resting against his thighs, his hands clasped around the crystal goblet. “Your brother and his wife are still away?”

  Naomi nodded. “They’re back home in New York.”

  “You must miss them.”

  “Not really,” she said with a soft chuckle.

  His eyes widened slightly. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. “You and your brother seem very close.”

  “I adore my brother. He’s my best friend and his wife is an absolute sweetheart. We have a great time when we’re together, but they’re still very much in honeymoon mode. It’s made for some very uncomfortable moments, being the third wheel in their home.”

  Patrick nodded. “It’s a good thing we met when we did then. I’m going to enjoy being that fourth wheel you need.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. She changed the subject, a slight smile on her face. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve been slaving in the kitchen all afternoon.”

  “I thought you said we were having a raw meal?”

  “We are. I still had to prepare it.”

  He smiled. “Well, I’m very hungry. I’ve been looking forward to this all day, so I missed lunch. And skipped breakfast, now that I think about it.”

  Naomi jumped to her feet. “You should have said something. Give me a quick minute and we can eat,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen.

  * * *

  Minutes later they were laughing heartily as they devoured a meal of zucchini noodles with a pesto dressing, Bibb lettuce topped with a mango-avocado salsa and a raw vegan lasagna with sunflower seed pesto, sun-dried tomato marinara, cashew cheese and walnut sausage. Each bite was an orchestra of flavors and textures that were a sheer delight. Patrick was impressed and he said so. “This is so good!” he exclaimed as he swiped a paper napkin across his mouth.

  “Thank you. I don’t cook like this every day, but I get very excited when I get the chance to share my diet with others. You say raw foods and people instantly think it’s going to be salad.”

  “I admit it—I was nervous. But I’m amazed at how tasty everything is.”

  “It’s fresh. Most of the vegetables I picked from the fields this afternoon. And it’s so healthy for you.”

  “I could never make something like a raw lasagna by myself. And I’m not going to lie to you...I wouldn’t even try.”

  Naomi laughed. “It took me a year before I felt adept enough to try this. And it bombed the first time!”

  “So how did you get started? And where would you suggest I start?”

  “Start by juicing. Fruit and vegetable juices will give you immediate benefits. They’ll boost your energy and immune system and they taste good. I have some recipes I can share with you. Personally, I can drink kale lemonade all day long, it’s so good. Then really think about your diet and make a concerted effort to eliminate processed foods. Integrate more greens daily and buy organic. Just those changes will make a dramatic difference in your health. Do that for a while and then start trying new dishes until you figure out what works for you and what doesn’t.”

  “Well, you’ve clearly perfected your techniques. I want to ask for a second helping, but I don’t want to seem greedy.” He licked his fork before resting it on his empty plate.

  “You are more than welcome to seconds, but you need to leave room for dessert.”

  “Raw dessert? Really?”

  She nodded. “Really. We’re having raw chocolate cake.”

  Patrick paused as he thought about that. “I’m intrigued,” he finally said, his tone less than confident. “Raw chocolate cake?”

  Naomi laughed. “Trust me. It’s amazing. You’re going to love it.”

  “I do trust you. And if you say it’s good, then I’m sure it’s going to be great.”

  “Well, if it’s not, I’ll whip up something else special just for you. Something that’s all fruit, with maybe a little banana crème fraîche.”

  “That sounds like you’re trying to spoil me,” Patrick said teasingly.

  Naomi winked at him. “I’m just trying to lure you over to my dark side!”

  * * *

  Conversation throughout dinner and dessert was easy and comfortable as the two continued getting to know each other. Patrick asked questions and so did she, both storing the answers away for future reflection. He made her laugh, at times gut deep and bringing tears to her eyes. Naomi was at ease in his presence, enjoying every moment of their time together. She had him feeling giddy with joy, the emotion settling so comfortably in his spirit that it surprised him. Time seemed to fly by too rapidly, the early evening shifting to late night in the blink of an eye.

  Patrick glanced down to his wristwatch before lifting his gaze back to hers. “I should probably be leaving. This has been fun, but I would hate to wear out my welcome.”

  “You don’t have to rush off,” Naomi said, her eyes dancing in sync with his. Her tone was polite, but there was a hint of yearning in her voice and the look in her eyes said she wanted him to stay.

  A wave of anxiety flushed Patrick’s face and he bit down o
n his bottom lip. “I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome,” he repeated. He rose to his full height, his body tensing ever so slightly.

  Naomi stood, as well. “I’m sure that would never happen,” she said softly.

  Something magical seemed to simmer in eyes as he met the look she was giving him. “You’re being kind. Thank you for dinner,” he said. “It was really good. And I’ve had a great time.”

  She nodded. “I had a good time, too. Oh!” She held up her index finger. “I wrapped that to-go plate for you.” She rushed back to the kitchen, returning promptly with a brown bag in hand.

  He laughed as he took the package she extended. “So, begging for the leftovers didn’t make me look too bad, did it?”

  Naomi snickered. “Not at all. It actually did wonders for my ego that you liked my cooking enough to ask.”

  The smile he gave her was wide and warm, the tilt of his head ever so slight. A pregnant pause blossomed between them for the first time since his arrival.

  Patrick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, this is that awkward moment at the end of our date where I want to kiss you again but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. Since we’re still getting to know each other, it might be too soon. And I would hate to get slapped.”

  Naomi giggled, her eyes shifting in a slight roll. “Do you often get slapped when you kiss a woman?”

  He grinned. “Not at all. But if I kiss you it won’t be like last time. It won’t be a casual kiss on the cheek. Or a light peck on your lips. This time I plan to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.”

  “Well, if I’m honest with you—” Naomi shifted her weight, rocking from side to side “—this is that moment where I want to be kissed, but I don’t want you to think I’m too forward. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression about me. Because I am not that kind of woman.”

  Patrick leaned to drop his bag onto the coffee table. He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. As he slipped his arms around her torso, pulling her gently against him, she clutched the front of his shirt with both hands. His eyes danced with hers, their gazes doing a slow, easy glide together.