by Hammond, T.
Together, we discovered the best way to ensure accuracy, was to use our hands to hold or touch the others' face to make sure the food didn't hit an eye or something. It was when he was feeding me a bite of crisp celery, he admitted to watching me in the restaurant the other night. “That jerk seemed to get you so upset, and I didn't see a polite way to broach the subject, so I stayed silent when I saw you again. When I realized you had cut off all your beautiful hair to shield your facial scars, I wanted to hunt him down and punch him.”
“My kinda guy,” a voice said in my mind. “The whole 'rip your balls out through your throat' thing? I would have totally been there for that.”
As I suspected, the snoring was a ruse, I also contentedly accepted he wouldn't be able to pass a quiet evening without butting into the conversation. I ran a foot lazily across Red's flank to acknowledge his comment.
“I knew who you were,” he admitted. “Every time Bas got a batch of pictures emailed, he would show them to all the guys. There wasn't one picture of Janey which didn't include you right beside her.”
David was silent for a few seconds, and then said, “You know Bas has a thing for you, right? I was surprised he picked a fight in the car because I know he was excited and nervous you'd be joining us for breakfast. I got the impression there was a history between you two, but he's never spoken about you except as Janey's friend.”
He didn't ask, but I could hear the question in David’s voice. I cupped his face in my palm and leaned over for a soft kiss, and then placed a dill-covered snap pea between his lips. “Bas came over this morning, after Janey dropped me off at my house. We had a nice long talk and I think we resolved some issues. It was refreshing to hold a conversation with him that didn’t involve yelling or gritting my teeth. He and I have agreed to spend some time together to get to know each other.” I stopped, hesitant to discuss the weird revelations Bas and I shared earlier.
“To me, Bas has always been Janey's brother, and I've never had a high opinion of his moral character. But, I'll admit my teenage perspective colored my judgment, as I haven't spent any time around Bas since I was a kid. I don't know what kind of man he's become. Mostly, for Janey's sake, I'd like to see if we could become friends. From my own perspective, I think I could like him; we made a little progress in that direction today. And Bas’ view? That gets complicated. I think he wants a relationship.” I made sure to add lots of innuendo to the word, “But, in my opinion, he wants a relationship with who he thinks I am. My avoiding him for all these years seems to have sparked his prey drive.”
David stroked my bangs back from my forehead and slipped a cream cheese-coated finger between my lips. I heard a crunch as he ate the piece of celery he had snagged the filling from. Cheater! He let out a little groan as I sucked the fingertip deeper into my mouth, the salty tartness of the caviar blended with the sweet smoothness of the cream cheese and exploded over my tongue. I released his finger with a long lick. Serves him right for stealing my celery.
“Do you plan to let him catch you?” he asked, quietly.
“David, I have no romantic interest in Bas. I want to learn to be his friend, and I'm fully aware he hopes it will become more than that. He's a sexy guy and I'm sure he'll make some woman a nice...” old habits die-hard, I almost said pet, “... boyfriend one day, but what he feels for me borders on obsession. It’s not healthy, nor is it the basis of a lasting relationship. I'll warn you now; I'm looking for something with some staying power. I want a guy who will be around for a while. If your plans are to hang out for a couple of weeks then leave town, please don't string me along.”
Curses on attentive wait staff! Megan chose that moment to remove the chilled appetizer plate, while Lydia treated us to the warmed, damp hand towels again. This time I detected the scent of oranges and cloves. When I asked about it, Lydia let us know we would have a differently scented, heated towel between each course.
Megan arrived with the second course, which was a warm platter. I could detect the scent of steamed asparagus tips with herb mayonnaise before the girls started to describe the dishes. Also included on the tray were bite-size pieces of parmesan-crusted chicken, steak bites, and a selection of cubed breads. The bread, we were told, could go under each bite of meat to absorb some of the juices so we wouldn't end up coated in chicken or steak juice. Somehow, the idea of licking a rivulet of chicken grease off David's wrist didn't alarm me. In fact, I was pretty sure the salt from his skin would greatly enhance the flavor of each bite.
After our staff left, a furry head rose up and bumped the bottom of the table. “Hey, you’re gonna pass a few bites down to me, right?”
“Get back down, bonehead. No bites tonight, we are eating with fingers. I don't want dog cooties.”
“Red, I've got your back, I can accidentally drop a few pieces over the side. Wait for the toe tap.” Puzzling. Unless Janey told him, David wasn’t aware of our mind-speak ability.
“Oh Teresa, we've gotta keep this one.” Red's vote was easily won. All it took was the promise of food. My dog was easy.
David held my chin steady with a single finger against my jaw. He was laughing as he painted a mayonnaise-tipped finger over my lower lip, and leaned forward to lick it with his tongue before sweeping into my mouth for a short exploration. When he drew away from me he said, “I noticed the whole, tap-the-toe-on-a-table-leg signal you two had going at the restaurant the other evening. You would toe tap, Red would look around, and you would, with impeccable timing, lower the food so he could sneak a bite. Very smooth. Do you plan to share the secret, or am I supposed to watch until I figure it out for myself?”
For the second time today, I will have to try to convince someone Red talks to me. “I can hear Red's thoughts if he directs them at me. Although, I have to speak out loud for him to understand me.” I was silent after that little bombshell. Next move was his.
“So, you're saying Red understands what we are saying, not simply basic commands?” His finger still held my face, and his breath was warm as he trailed nibbling kisses over my lips.
“Yes,” again, silence. I was curious to see where he'd go with this, the kisses and the line of questioning.
“So while I'm talking to you like this, I could ask your dog to put his head on my knee and he would do it?”
I nodded, “The dog has a mind of his own. He understands what you said, but he would do it because he wants to not because you told him to.”
Red must have placed his head on David's knee. I could feel David ruffle Red's fur. Did he slip Red a piece of food? “I hope you're not feeding me with the hand that's been in the dog's mouth and petting his fur!” I said.
David laughed, “Left hand only,” he promised, “but I did show him something, do you know what it was?”
“Will only speak for steak,” Red stated from under the table.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Red.” To David, I explained, “He wants me to bribe him with steak before he'll tell me.”
David dropped an appropriate bribe over the edge of the table because Red said, “Well, chicken is close enough. He showed me a key, and money.”
“Was it paper money or metal coins?”
“It wasn't metal,” Red replied.
I held David's face steady and plopped a piece of steak in his mouth, “You are a sneaky man," I said admiringly. “Red says you gave him chicken instead of steak, and you showed him a key and paper money. He can't read, so I can't tell you the denomination.”
David laughed, “Since I’m blindfolded, I don’t know the denomination either.”
Dinner progressed slowly as we took our time playing guessing games with Red between bites of food. We worked out a system so when a server was close enough to catch us interacting with the dog, Red would warn me and I would signal with a pat to David's arm. Of course, this meant I had to touch him throughout the evening, but neither of us was complaining.
I have no idea how many pieces of food “fell” off the side of the table, but it w
as enough to keep Red happy while we ate and talked. David got very good at painting various sauces across my lips before stealing kisses. And, the kisses got better and better.
I was full by the time dessert was served, but David insisted on feeding me a few bites of the fruit compote. He had taken his blindfold off and was taking pleasure in watching me eat from his fingers, scented faintly with cucumber and ginger from the last hand wash. I placed a slice of mango between his lips, and when he bit down taking half, I felt the cool juice slide down the inside of my palm. David was quick to grip my arm and hold it steady while he ran the hot flat of his tongue over every inch of my wrist. He suctioned the other half of the fruit from between my pinched fingers, before sucking each digit, individually, to remove any remaining juices. You have to admire a man who is thorough.
It was still early when we left Blind Seduction, and it was David's idea to visit one of the local tasting rooms for a glass of wine. When it comes to wine, I can go either way, red or white. Not in the mood for one of my usual dry Chardonnays, I opted to try a full-bodied blend of Merlot, Cabernet, and Shiraz. After I swirled the wine in the bowl of the glass to release oxygen, intensifying the aroma, I took a deep breath to inhale the scent then held it to enjoy the complexity of the grapes. My appreciation for wine had grown over the last few months as my sense of smell sharpened.
I had taken my first sip of wine when David said, “Just for the record, it’s my intention to stay in Spokane. It is also my intention to pursue this attraction I feel for you. I wasn't looking for a serious relationship, but I think we have the potential for one. I like you, Teresa. You're witty, kind, beautiful, sexy as hell, and you kiss like a fallen angel. I may not have been looking for you, but now that I've found you, I want to see where this goes.”
****************
“Where this goes” was nowhere, for tonight. When David took me home, it was to find an impromptu poker game in progress. While it would be suspicious of me to assume my friends were sabotaging a possible horizontal ending to my date, Bas' presence pretty much convinced me my friends were conspiring to make sure I didn't lose my head, or my virtue.
David and I had a laugh in the car when he noticed the lights in the living room, and Ken and Janey's cars parked in the driveway. We shared a few kisses in the car and agreed on a date, next week, for a concert at the local casino. We were both joking about movie trailers as David escorted me into the den of iniquity which used to be my dining room.
I have to give them all credit, it sounded like the game had been going on for hours. Janey, no doubt, had the largest pile of chips in front of her. David confirmed Ken's pile had dwindled down to two short stacks of blue chips. Bas wasn't doing much better. Surely, at least Bastian knew Janey always cheats at cards?
“I hope you guys aren't playing for real money,” I teased.
“Are you kidding?” Ken snorted, “We all know Janey plays a crooked game.”
“Yeah,” Bas added. “We haven't figured out how she does it yet.”
“I'm sure it can't be reflections in the glass table top, right?” I shook my head at their gullibility. “Didn't you guys wonder why she took the placemats off when they could have stopped the cards from sliding off the table as she deals? Without mats she can toss cards higher to keep them from sliding, and she has a better chance to see the faces”
“Dude!” said Ken in disgust. “I knew she had eyes like a friggin' eagle, but who knew she could count cards that fast, too?”
Dude? Well the mystery of where Red learned that word was solved.
David laughingly asked how I knew the placemats were missing. “Who do you think taught her to count cards and watch reflections? She was my best protégé,” I told them, proudly.
Ken had bought a couple six-packs of beer for the game, so David grabbed a bottle for each of us, and we settled into the couch to chat and listen to the losers whine. Red was let out into the backyard for his pre-bed rounds. “To make sure the grounds are secure.”
“Thanks again for a wonderful dinner,” I said quietly to David, or so I thought, until Bas interrupted our conversation. “Where did you two go anyway?” Ah, it was so tempting to make a snide comment about getting a room at the Davenport Hotel downtown. My thoughts must have been apparent on my face because David tapped my arm and replied, “I took her to Blind Seduction.”
“Oh my gosh, how romantic,” Janey gushed. “Ken, Blind Seduction’s the place I was telling you about where you feed each other. One, or both of you, can wear a blindfold.
“How did you hear about that place, David?” Janey asked. “It just opened, and I don't think I've even seen ads for it yet.”
“One of the bellmen at the hotel recommended we try it. He took his wife there last week for their one-year anniversary and said he had fun feeding her dinner and desserts. His wife loved it, too. It sounded like a unique experience Teresa might enjoy, so I booked us a room.”
“A room?” Bas' tone was wary, as if he suspected something illicit.
“More like curtained alcoves. We were supervised by serving staff the entire time, Bas,” David explained, with a dry tone.
“Well, except for the hour when they locked the doors, turned out the lights, and piped in Barry White music,” I couldn't help adding.
“Trouble maker,” David laughed and tapped a finger under my chin. He bent for a quick kiss. “No Barry White,” he corrected, “more like some new age flute and drums stuff.”
“Maybe, but Barry White makes for a better story,” I argued.
The poker game took on a new life when Ken and Bas insisted on the placemats. Janey's pile was so large by then, the guys really had no hope of winning much back. Things wrapped up around eleven p.m.
Bas, subtle as ever, asked David if he could hitch a ride back to the hotel with him so Janey wouldn't have to go out of her way.
So ended my evening. My date went home, metaphorically speaking, with the guy who thinks he has a “thing” for me. How weird is that?
Chapter Sixteen
I stretched and rolled over in bed only to feel the brush of warm breath across my cheeks.
“Ewww, Red, don't breathe in my face! You have dog breath.” I pulled the covers over my head to create a cooties barrier. “I know where a dog’s mouth goes and I don't want yours anywhere near my face.”
“I've been waiting for you to wake up. Can I go outside? I think the cat is in my yard again,” Red told me from his place beside my bed, muzzle determinedly resting on the mattress.
“Fine!” I said, with feigned exasperation, flinging off the covers to swing my legs to the floor. “I'll have to talk to Ken about installing the dog door, like we’ve talked about, so you can go in and out when you want.”
“That would be great!” His voice became sly and considering, “I bet the cat won't expect me to be waiting at night when it comes over the fence. There's a perfect place under the deck to wait.”
My smart dog was laying out an assault plan. I suppose I should be concerned he was focused on the cat next door, but I'm thinking the cat and Red are evenly matched opponents. It was my opinion the cat was baiting him. Silly, evil cat.
I slapped my hand down on the clock, and was informed it was Saturday, July 12th, 5:52 a.m. “Geez, Red, can't you let a person sleep in?”
“Imagine the possibilities, Teresa,” Red cajoled. “This means you can fit three more cups of coffee into your day by getting up earlier.” I grinned at his reasoning, knowing he made those numbers up. Dogs don't have a clear concept of how long an hour is, and I wasn't sure if he had a clear grasp of numbers either. Yes, a very crafty dog. I'm glad he's on my side—I will only use this tool for the good of mankind.
Red escorted me to the back door and I let him out. His barking started immediately as he dashed off in pursuit of an intruder. Well, since I was up, I might as well make coffee.
I had pressed the button to start brewing when I heard movement from Ken's bedroom before the door opened.
I was surprised he hadn't gone to Janey's last night. “Morning Ken,” I greeted, as he shuffled toward the bathroom.
“Hrmffff,” Ken stated. I'm not sure what that meant, except potentially a lobbying phrase to indicate he needed the first cup more than I did.
“And a hrmffff, back atcha,” I called out pleasantly to his retreating back. There were three possibilities as far as I saw it. One, Ken had a hangover. Poor boy. Two, Janey's period started and she told him she wanted space. Poor girl. Three, they had a fight. Poor me.
I placed an extra cup on the counter for Ken. No matter the option choice, life always improves with coffee. I heard the toilet flush and the sink spigots turn shortly before my zombified roommate shuffled his way back to his room, closing the door behind him without saying a word to me.
Mmm, the odds tipped heavily in favor of hangover.
