Would you mind meeting me, instead? I’ll make reservations at Arroyo’s for 7:30. Please tell me a steak house is not a problem. You’re not a tree hugging, hemp wearing, plant eating hippie, are you?
Nora laughed and quickly replied.
No problem. I’ll just wear my peasant skirt with Birkenstocks and order a tofu burger.
She sent the message before she could change her mind. She had an odd sense of humor, quite dry actually. It wasn’t uncommon for her jokes to go right over people’s heads, or for her to have to explain that she was kidding. She wondered if she would have to constantly explain herself to Leo.
I’ll wear a beret, and then maybe we can hit up a poetry slam after dinner, came the message back from Leo.
Nora grinned, grateful he was playing along, then found herself giggling as she pictured her burly fireman in a beret.
A poetry slam sounds groovy. ;) I will meet you at Arroyo at 7:30. Thanks for the invite.
Nora sent her text off to Leo, then grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Before she could throw her phone into her bag, it chirped again.
Looking forward to seeing you, Birks and all.
Nora smiled nervously to herself and stood up, tucking the chair under her desk. No doubt she would be nervous as hell tomorrow. A hot firefighter was interested in her! She wondered if they would have much in common, or what they would talk about. It was obvious she was physically attracted to him, but she wondered if they would have any shared interests. What exactly had prompted him to ask her out?
She shook her head tersely, cross with herself for being so serious. For once in her life, she wondered, why couldn’t she just set aside her systematic way of thinking and just enjoy the moment? Why did it have to be anything beyond a fun night out? Two people attracted to each other and just having a good time? She was determined to approach things differently this time. She could go with the flow and set all expectation aside, couldn’t she? She would just be playful and spontaneous and see where things went. She didn’t have to always be in control, did she?
Dropping her phone into her purse, she quickly left the office, happier than she had been in a very long time.
Chapter 4
Leo
The hostess sat Leo at a quiet table for two in the back of the restaurant. She lit the small candle on the table and then set the menus down.
“Can I bring you a drink while you’re waiting for your guest?” she asked with a smile.
Leo looked up at her and grinned. She was a pretty little thing, but far too young to be flirting with.
“Sure sweetheart. You can bring me a California red. Merlot.”
“The bottle?” she asked provocatively, raising her perfect brows.
Leo laughed good-naturedly.
“Absolutely. I like the way you think,” he winked, sitting back in his chair.
In spite of his best efforts, he couldn’t help but flirt, it was just his way. She didn’t seem to mind, anyway. At least if her giggle was any indication.
“I’ll be right back,” she offered, a blush rising to her cheeks.
“I’ll be waiting,” Leo purred, sending her on her way with another giggle.
After their exchange outside her apartment, and the texting to set this up, he was really looking forward to his date with Nora. She intrigued him—for reasons he didn’t yet understand. Well, except one. But really, she was different than the girls he typically flirted with. He had dated a lot of women since Corrine, but never a doctor. Let’s just say the women he typically socialized with could not be considered scholarly. At first glance, Nora didn’t look like the women he was normally attracted to either. She was pretty, and had a smoking body, based on the quick peek he stole before she could cover herself, but she was more than the girl next door. If he had a ‘type’ based on his track record, it would probably be curvy blonds.
When he was a kid, his family shared a house with his grandparents. He would hang out with his Nona and watch classic movies with her. She loved the old movie stars, like Spencer Tracy, Gary Cooper, and Gregory Peck. Her personal favorite was James Stewart, someone she referred to as a ‘true gentleman.’ Every time they watched a movie with Jimmy, she would say, “Look how handsome he is, Leo,” followed by, “Essere ancora il mio cuore,” which translated meant, “Be still my heart.”
His Nona had expressed to Leo that the men of today didn’t know how to be gentlemen, and that he should strive to be like a Jimmy Stewart. This would make Leo laugh. He didn’t want to be like Jimmy. He was more into the tough guys, like Marlon Brando, Steve McQueen, or James Dean. Now they were bad ass.
Of course these old flicks had their share of beautiful Hollywood starlets, too. That was probably where he’d developed his taste for curvy women. Back in the forties and fifties, women were more voluptuous. Women like Jane Mansfield, Rita Hayworth, Brigitte Bardot, and of course his personal favorite, Marilyn Monroe.
When he was thirteen, his grandfather slipped him a copy of the very first Playboy magazine ever published, featuring the beautiful Marilyn. Come to think of it, he probably didn’t know how valuable it was at the time, or he wouldn’t have offered it to a teenage boy with sticky fingers. His friends might have thought it was weird that a kid in the 90’s had his fantasies fueled by nude pictures of a young Marilyn nearly 40 years earlier, but he couldn’t help it. She was damn fine. Sexy, provocative and vulnerable, she set the bar for him from that moment on. He still had that magazine in a safety deposit box at the bank. Last time he checked it was worth more than $40,000, sticky pages and all.
Leo was pulled away from his memories by the same young hostess setting two wine glasses on the table. He smiled up at her as she held the bottle before him.
“This has a palate of blackberry and plum with a soft vanilla note. It offers a nice finish. Shall I uncork it for you?” she asked with a sly grin.
Leo returned her grin and eased back in his chair.
“You’re referring to the wine, I presume?” he teased, his tone thick with innuendo.
The young woman blushed again and nodded, uncertain how to respond.
“Yes sir, the wine,” she giggled.
“It is a 2010 St. Francis Merlot. Very popular.”
Leo decided to let her off the hook. She was probably no more than twenty-one, and although she appeared flattered by his attention, she was definitely not accustomed to men flirting with her. Despite the fact that it was his nature, he suddenly felt a little creepy.
It hadn’t seemed that long ago that he could get away with dating 20 year olds just as easy as 40 somethings. Now that he was pushing forty, not so much. It wasn’t that he couldn’t still attract young women—he still looked and felt closer to 30 than to 40—but he was starting to recognize that he had less and less in common with them, aside from a mutual enjoyment of casual sex.
He had to admit, the age gap was becoming a problem. A few months ago he took a young woman out and they were talking about music when she asked him if he liked ‘The Weekend.’ Although the question seemed odd, he replied, “Sure, only when he wasn’t working.” The young lady quickly informed him that she was talking about a musician of the same name. Needless to say, after a quick round in the sheets, they didn’t get together for a second date.
“The wine looks great. Please...” he said, gesturing for her to open it.
She uncorked the wine like a pro and poured him a small amount to taste. Leo was no connoisseur when it came to wine, and hated the pretentiousness of the swirling, sniffing and sipping expected of him whenever he ordered a bottle. It all seemed so ridiculous to him, anyway. Wine was wine. Like a true Italian, he never had any complaints. The best wines were the ones that happened to be sitting on the table.
He tossed the whole thing back and nodded, grinning at her impishly. She laughed a little louder than she probably should have and gave him a look that said she understood. Just pour the damn wine. She obliged and then left him alone, promising
that once his guest arrived, the waiter would be by to take their order.
He had barely enjoyed a few sips when his eyes landed on Nora being escorted to his table. He pulled his breath in sharply, then released it in a long drawn out sigh. She was gorgeous. Although he knew she was probably joking about the peasant skirt and Birkenstocks, he was relieved to see that she was definitely not a hippy, in spite of being a Psychology geek. Just the opposite in fact.
She was dressed in a tight grey skirt with a mid-thigh slit, a black, short sleeved silk blouse, buttoned just high enough to be classy, but still revealing the perfect amount of cleavage, along with a pair of black, patent leather Louboutin pumps with the signature red soles. Her straight dark hair hung loosely around her face and shoulders, and, aside from the red lipstick, she wore very little makeup. She looked like a young Betty Page, all the right curves, but without the signature bangs.
He smiled broadly and stood up to greet her, opening his arms to invite her in for a hug. She accepted it warmly, then he stepped back and eyed her up and down appreciatively, noting her shyness when he got caught looking. She shrugged softly and looked down at the floor. This was a woman who was not aware of her beauty, he surmised.
“Wow, you look incredible. Somehow I wasn’t expecting a Doctor of Psychology to dress like this. Damn, woman!” Leo teased.
“Please, sit down,” he offered, gesturing toward her chair.
Nora chuckled and sat down in the chair across from him, setting her small purse on the table. As soon as she settled herself, she looked him over closely and smiled.
“So, just how were you expecting a Psych Doc to dress?” she teased gently, picking up the wine glass he had just filled for her.
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have only ever seen you in a bathrobe, you know, and that wasn’t much to go on,” he quipped back.
“Can I make a toast?”
“Of course,” Nora agreed, lowering her glass. She appeared nervous and Leo wanted nothing more than to set her at ease.
“Let’s drink to fate,” he offered, hopefully, “and the fact that it literally knocked us together.”
He raised his glass and waited for her to clink it with her own. She nodded and sipped her wine, her eyes downcast as though she was too shy to meet his gaze.
“I’m happy you agreed to meet me for dinner, Nora. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt so bad for knocking you to the floor. I guess I was just lost in my own world,” he confessed, his eyes willing her to look up.
When she finally did, he rewarded her with a reassuring smile.
“Of course, thanks for asking me out,” she replied, returning his smile.
“The truth is, I am sturdier than I look. I played hockey when I was younger, so I have actually taken a body check or two in my day.”
Leo looked at her skeptically, unable to mask his surprise. He never met a woman who played hockey before, and she didn’t seem like the athletic type. It intrigued him even more.
“Really? Hockey?”
He raised his brows, gesturing for her to explain further. Nora took another sip of wine and set down the glass.
“Yes. My father was a huge fan of the sport, and he didn’t let the fact that he only had two daughters stop him from being a hockey dad. My sister refused to play after the first two years, but I went on. I played for about 8 more years before I finally quit. To be honest, I think I liked the bond it gave me with my Dad more than I enjoyed the sport itself,” she explained, her words quietly trailing off.
Leo nodded, encouraging her to go on.
Nora shrugged her shoulders, and continued, “I was pretty good, too, but unfortunately there aren’t many opportunities for young women to play after a certain age, unless they are really, really outstanding. And truthfully, once I met my high school sweetheart, hockey didn’t hold much appeal anymore. I preferred to spend my free time with him. Dad, however, was not impressed,” she offered, her soft laugh filled with memories.
“With the sweetheart or quitting hockey?” Leo asked lightly, happy to see her warming up to him.
“Both, actually,” Nora chuckled, meeting his eyes.
Although the lighting was dim, he could see that her eyes were a light green. He enjoyed the way the candlelight danced in them, holding his attention.
“I was more of a soccer player. Italians are nuts about soccer and my parents were no exception. In fact, the whole damn family would come to every game. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, even the little cousins. It was so embarrassing. They took up half the field with all their hooting and hollering.”
Leo smiled, the happy memories filling his heart. He missed those crazy goombahs.
“Sounds awesome,” Nora offered, her warm smile softening her pretty face.
There was no denying that Leo appreciated the female form. He enjoyed the angles and softness of a woman’s curves, but his favorite curve of all was her smile. A woman had to have a good smile or he would quickly lose interest. His favorite thing of all was when a woman would smile, and in that moment, he could suddenly see her soul. Her past, present and future, all in that split second. It would light up her face and reveal every secret she ever had, and the dreams she held close to her heart. Corrine once had a smile like that.
So did Nora.
Leo cleared his throat, feeling inappropriately nostalgic and sentimental. He turned his attention to the menus on the table and handed one to Nora.
“Shall we order?” he asked. “The steaks here are fantastic, but I’ve also had the double cut lamb chops and they are damn good too.”
“I was looking for the vegan options?” Nora offered, her expression deadpan. Leo looked up from his menu, not sure if she was serious or not, but hoping for the latter. She didn’t blink an eye.
“Um, I don’t think they actually cater to vegans... well, except maybe the salads... ” he stammered, looking back down at the menu.
He was a meat eater, through and through. Protein was his life, and none of that vegan, pea protein crap either. No matter how into a woman he was, nothing could ever convert him into a plant eater. Nora chuckled softly, grinning over her menu at him.
“I’m kidding. Gosh, now I feel bad. You look like a man trying to figure out if there’s a way out the back,” Nora teased, picking up her wine glass.
“Another toast... here is to rare meat and the omnivores who love it!”
Leo raised his glass to hers and sighed gratefully, accepting her good natured teasing with good humor. As they drank, their eyes sized one another other up. He appreciated that there were layers to Nora, that aside from being a little shy, she had a cheeky side as well. He was intrigued to know more, and guessed that she would probably be the kind of woman that would reveal herself slowly. The type to pace herself according to her comfort level, offering pieces of the puzzle one at a time with enough tidbits to hold a curious man’s interest and leave him wanting more. She was the kind of woman that commanded attention and patience, weeding out the unimaginative, the lazy, and the players. Men who picked the low hanging fruit.
Men like him, maybe.
“If you recommend the lamb, then that’s what I will order,” Nora said confidently, closing her menu.
“An appetizer?” he offered, hoping she was the type of woman who enjoyed food as much as he did.
Nora nodded.
“Maybe we should share one? To be honest, I had dessert picked out before the entree. I will confess to a bit of a sweet tooth,” she grinned.
“Let me see if I can guess,” Leo said, looking her up and down, and squinting his eyes as though he were trying to read her mind. “Hmmm, you look like a chocolate soufflé kind of gal. Am I right?”
Nora laughed softly, “Am I that transparent? You nailed it.”
Leo felt his mind slip into the gutter, hoping her words were a prediction of things to come. He would love nothing more than for the evening to end with her in his bed.
The waiter
came and took their order and they continued to chat, getting to know each other while they waited for their meal to come. They casually talked about their families and careers, even sharing funny stories about when they were young. Just appropriate first date chatter, nothing too serious. He was pleasantly surprised by how easy their connection was, and grateful it didn’t take Nora long to relax. They both seemed to respect each other’s space and Leo really liked that. It wasn’t uncommon for women to ask him personal questions about his past love life, and nothing turned him off faster. He never shared that with anyone, it was far too painful.
The truth was that before their date, Leo had wondered if maybe Nora was above his station. He had dropped out of college after only two years to join the fire department, but Nora had gone as far as you could go in school. He worried that he wouldn’t be able to carry a conversation with her, or that she would quickly lose interest. Or maybe it would happen the other way around.
But as it turned out, she was smart, but he also found her to be very laid back. He could tell that she was just as intrigued by him as he was by her. It was obvious that they were both stepping out of their comfort zones.
After their main course, they waited patiently for their dessert over coffee. The waiter had warned them that a good soufflé couldn’t be rushed.
“You know I dated a chef once,” Leo offered, tentatively.
Nora looked at him over her coffee cup, her eyes regarding him carefully.
“She explained to me that baking the perfect soufflé was like making love to a woman,” he continued, his sultry smile making his words even more enticing.
“Oh yeah?” Nora played along, her tone soft and flirtatious.
“Yep,” he said, taking her free hand into his own, “she taught me that the word soufflé literally means to swell. She said you can’t rush the process, you have to take your time during each step, paying special attention to every detail, adding each ingredient like a carefully placed kiss.”
He paused for effect, reading her expression. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity while her playful smile encouraged him to carry on.
Fire & Ice: A Ménage Fantasy Page 3
