Paper Love

by Jae

  Susanne grinned. “Want to see how well I take instructions when it comes to…manual tasks?”

  Anja nudged her with her elbow. “Focus.” When Susanne opened her mouth, she added, “On the pen.”

  Smiling, Susanne closed her mouth and unscrewed the bottle of ink. “So what do I do?”

  “First…” Anja reached out and slid the long sleeves of Susanne’s shirt up over her elbows to avoid getting ink on it. Her hand slid over Susanne’s bare skin in the process, giving her a glimpse of what it might feel like to undress her.

  Now it was Susanne’s turn to nudge her. “Focus—on the pen.”

  Heat rose up Anja’s neck at being caught daydreaming. God, she hadn’t blushed this much in years. “First, you turn the piston knob at the end of the barrel counterclockwise. That extends the piston inside of the pen toward the nib.”

  Susanne did it.

  “Mmm, you follow instructions well,” Anja murmured.

  Susanne looked up, and their gazes met.

  Was it just her, or was it getting really warm inside the store?

  Anja had to clear her throat before she could continue. “Then you dip the nib into the ink.”

  Susanne carefully slid the nib into the ink bottle.

  “Deeper.” Anja gently guided her hand.

  “Jesus,” Susanne breathed. “You can’t say things like that to me. Not in that sexy voice of yours.”

  “What…oh! I…I didn’t…” Anja yanked her hand away from Susanne’s fingers. “All I meant was that the entire nib needs to be submerged, or it won’t work.”

  Susanne fanned herself with one hand while guiding the nib more deeply into the ink with the other.

  “Just like that.” Anja bit her lip. Why did everything coming from her mouth suddenly sound like something she might say during sex?

  Susanne groaned. “Are we filling up a fountain pen or engaging in verbal foreplay?”

  “The latter. Uh, the former! I meant the former!” God, this entire conversation while sitting so close to Susanne made Anja’s head spin. She hid her face behind her hands. Her cheeks probably looked like a ripe tomato.

  Laughing, Susanne pulled her hands away from her face, leaned over, and kissed one of her overheated cheeks. “You know,” she said, her voice hoarse, “I’m starting to see why you love fountain pens so much.”

  “I have a feeling you appreciate them for very different reasons than I do. But you just wait until you try this one out. The nib is amazingly smooth. It glides over paper like…”

  “Naked skin over satin sheets?” Susanne’s eyes twinkled.

  The words created images in Anja’s mind that made her feel even warmer. “Now who’s engaging in verbal foreplay?”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s focus on the pen. What’s next?”

  “You turn the knob in the other direction to draw the ink into the pen.” Anja watched Susanne’s long, slender fingers as she twisted the knob clockwise. “Now turn the knob just a tiny bit in the other direction to release a few drops. That gets the air out.”

  “And you have to do this every time your pen runs out of ink?” Susanne asked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just use cartridges? Open pen, old cartridge out, new one in, screw back together, done.”

  “On the danger of sounding like verbal foreplay again, a fast in and out isn’t always best. A true pen aficionado wants to savor the process.”

  Susanne hummed. “Savoring… Mmm, yeah, I’m all for that.”

  Wow. This really had to be the sexiest ink refilling of all time. Anja had trouble focusing on the task at hand. “All right. Now wipe it clean, and you’re done.”

  Susanne took a tissue from a box on the counter and wiped down the ink-smeared section and the nib of the pen. When she crumpled up the tissue and threw it into the wastebasket, her fingers came away a bit inky.

  “Oops.” Anja handed her another tissue.

  Susanne wiped at the stains and grinned. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind getting my fingers wet.”

  Anja gulped in air. “Getting inky with you is dangerous.”

  “Nah. I’m totally tame.”

  “Uh-huh.” If there was one word Anja didn’t associate with Susanne, it was tame. She had a feeling she could be dangerous for more than her libido. “So want to try it?”

  Susanne stared at her for a few seconds. “Oh, you mean the pen.”

  “What else would I mean?” Anja tried for her most innocent expression. She slid a sheet of paper in front of her and watched the way Susanne’s long, strong fingers seemed to cradle the pen rather than gripping it.

  “Ooh, nice.” Susanne studied whatever she had written for a moment and seemed to hesitate before holding the paper out to Anja.

  She expected to find Susanne’s name or hello, hello, hello. That was what most people wrote while testing out a pen. Instead, Susanne had written a short message to her.

  Want to have dinner with me tonight?

  Oh wow. Susanne had to be aware of what day it was. The store was covered in paper heart decorations, and half of the customers coming in yesterday and this morning had been looking for last-minute Valentine’s Day gifts.

  Anja swallowed. She didn’t trust her voice, so she took the pen from Susanne and wrote yes with three exclamation marks beneath Susanne’s message. Then she held the sheet of paper out for her to read.

  “Great.” Susanne beamed. “Where do you want to go?”

  The bell above the door jingled, announcing another customer.

  “Surprise me,” Anja whispered to Susanne.

  “Surprise me, she says,” Susanne growled as she shoved her cell phone back into her pocket. “Yeah, she will be very surprised when I take her to some fast-food place.”

  She had called a dozen restaurants, but none of them had any free tables for tonight, no matter how much money she offered. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise; it was Valentine’s Day after all.

  Well, there was always option B: she could cook for Anja. Usually, she didn’t like wasting her time cooking, but she was a more than decent cook if she put her mind to it. Plus dinner at her place would be more intimate than a restaurant—no other diners and no waitress to interrupt them at just the wrong moment.

  Susanne nodded as she warmed up to the idea.

  Then she remembered that she didn’t even have a table or chairs in her dining room. No way could she invite Anja to a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner and then expect her to eat bent over the coffee table.

  Dammit.

  Anja stuck her head out of the store. “Everything okay?”

  Susanne paused her pacing along the cobblestone street. “Oh yeah. Everything’s fine.”

  “Did you find us a place to have dinner?”

  “Um, yes.” Susanne glanced at her watch. If she hurried like crazy, maybe she could buy a table and two chairs and cook a not too extravagant but delicious dinner. “But I’ll have to take off now. Is that okay?”

  Anja sent her a startled gaze. Then a smile curled her lips. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who need three hours to get ready for a date.”

  “No, I… You’ll just have to wait and see what I have in store for you. I’ll pick you up at seven. Um, better make it seven thirty.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Anja said, her voice soft as a touch.

  Susanne knew she needed to get going, but she couldn’t resist giving her a gentle kiss. “Me too,” she whispered against her lips.

  After lingering for a moment longer, she forced herself to step back and hurried down the street toward her car. She had three and a half hours to get furniture, assemble it, buy groceries, and cook dinner. It was crazy, but as she skidded down the ramp and into the parking garage, she decided that Anja was worth it.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Anja: a few hours ago, she had teased Susanne about taking three hours to get ready for a date, and now she was the one who was taking forever. She had put on three different outfits before finally se
ttling on the beige corduroy skirt and the knee-high, brown boots she had worn to the stationery fair last month. If she wasn’t mistaken, Susanne had checked out her legs several times when they’d been on the train. Instead of the conservative blouse she had worn to the trade fair, she had paired the skirt with a long-sleeved, deep-red top with a sweetheart neckline that dipped low, revealing the swell of her breasts if she moved a certain way.

  She studied herself in the mirrored sliding closet doors. Was she overdressed? Underdressed? Too sexy? Not sexy enough? It was impossible to say since she had no idea where Susanne would be taking her.

  Not that it really mattered. All she wanted was to spend time with her because that was the one thing they didn’t have a lot of: time.

  She brushed the thought aside and went to dab some perfume on her neck and wrists.

  Seven thirty—the time Susanne had said she’d pick her up—came and went, but the doorbell didn’t ring. Had she been unable to decide what to wear too?

  By seven forty, Anja was pacing her small apartment. She would have called Susanne to make sure everything was okay, but she didn’t want to come across like the overbearing girlfriend.

  When the doorbell rang, it startled her, even though she’d been waiting for it.

  Finally! Not bothering with the intercom, she locked the door behind her and rushed down the stairs.

  Susanne’s BMW was parked in front of the building, and Susanne waited next to it. She wore jeans that were so faded they appeared almost white and a black, long-sleeved shirt with big, white letters saying, I like coffee and maybe three people.

  Anja hoped she was among the lucky three. Okay, I’m definitely overdressed. Where on earth is she taking me?

  “I’m so sorry.” Susanne kissed Anja hello. “I’m running behind my admittedly ambitious schedule. I didn’t have time to change.”

  “So I’m not overdressed?”

  Susanne’s gaze roved over the formfitting top, the knee-length skirt, and the boots that Miri always said emphasized her slender legs. The open admiration in her eyes made Anja stand a little taller. “No, you’re perfect. Very beautiful.” She kissed Anja again and then opened the passenger side door for her.

  Susanne got in on the other side and started the car.

  “Do we have time to go to your place so you can change?” Anja asked. “What time is the dinner reservation?”

  “Oh, the chef said they’re pretty flexible, so yes, we’ve got time.”

  Anja stared at her. “You talked to the chef?”

  “Guess you could say that.” A tiny grin played around the corners of Susanne’s mouth.

  Anja regarded her through narrowed eyes. “You’re planning something.”

  “Me? Nah. Not a thing.”

  “Uh-huh.” By now, Anja knew her well enough that Susanne’s poker face couldn’t fool her. She resisted the urge to reach over and nudge her only because Susanne was driving.

  Soon, they pulled into the parking garage beneath Susanne’s apartment building.

  “Want me to wait here while you go get changed?” Anja asked.

  “No. Come on in.” Susanne walked around the car and opened the door for her.

  Anja smiled. She liked this feeling of being courted. Next time, she would do the same for Susanne.

  When they entered the apartment, the first thing Anja noticed was the heavenly scent drifting through the hall from the kitchen. Then, as she walked closer, she discovered a table and two chairs that hadn’t been here at her last visit.

  She whirled around to Susanne, who stood with her hands in her pockets, almost as if she were uncertain or embarrassed. “You…you did all of this? Today?”

  “Yeah. All the restaurants I called didn’t have any free tables, so it was either this or taking you to a fast-food place for a Yufka.”

  “I would have been fine with Yufka, but…wow.” Anja walked into the dining room and slid her palms over the backrest of one chair. “How did you get the table and the chairs so fast?”

  “Good old bribery.” Susanne grinned. “That and some elbow grease. I assembled them myself.”

  “Wow,” Anja said again because her brain failed to find the words to express her feelings. No one had ever done something like this for her. “Thank you for going to all this trouble.”

  “My pleasure. Can you keep an eye on the lasagna while I go take a quick shower and change?”

  “Ooh, lasagna! Sure. But you’d better hurry, or I can’t guarantee that there’ll be any left over for you.”

  Susanne smiled. “So I picked the right thing to cook?”

  “Absolutely. It’s one of my top five dishes—as long as it’s a veggie one.”

  “Of course it is,” Susanne said, sounding almost insulted. “I’ll hurry.” She disappeared into the bathroom, and Anja tried not to imagine her stripping out of her clothes and stepping beneath the warm spray of the shower, soapy suds running down the planes of her belly.

  Admittedly, her attempt to not picture it was a complete failure, so to distract herself, she peeked into the oven.

  The lasagna sizzling away in a large pan looked ready to be served, so she turned down the temperature on the oven. She opened the cabinets until she found plates and glasses. Susanne had already done all of the work, so the least she could do was set the table.

  “There’s white wine in the fridge and a bottle of red on the counter,” Susanne called from the bathroom. “Feel free to open whatever you prefer.”

  Since the lasagna was a veggie one, Anja opened the bottle of pinot blanc chilling in the fridge. Just as she looked around for napkins, a meow and a tap-tap-tap drifted over from the living room.

  Anja hesitated, then shook her head. Susanne seemed insistent on not letting the cat think this might be his new home, and she had to respect that. Besides, she wanted this evening to be just for the two of them. “Sorry, Muesli. Not tonight.”

  When she heard the bathroom door open, she took the lasagna out of the oven. A cloud of steam wafted up. Her mouth watered at the scent of tomato, ricotta, and melted mozzarella cheese. Carefully, she put two huge pieces on their plates.

  She felt more than heard Susanne come up behind her. “How does it look?” she asked right next to Anja’s ear.

  Anja shivered and inhaled deeply. Susanne smelled of cocoa butter, maybe from a shower gel, and a subtle but sexy perfume.

  “Yummy,” Anja answered, not sure if she meant Susanne or the lasagna. Probably both. She turned and found herself nearly body to body with Susanne, who had changed out of her jeans and the long-sleeved shirt. Black slacks hugged her hips, and a silver-gray top emphasized the color of her eyes. Its cowl neck dipped low, giving Anja a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, while the capped sleeves showed off her toned arms.

  Anja’s mouth watered again, and this time the lasagna had nothing to do with it. Susanne looked good enough to eat. “You look…nice.” Gosh, she really was out of practice at complimenting women. “Very, very nice.”

  Okay, that wasn’t much better, but the warm glow in Susanne’s eyes revealed that she knew how much Anja appreciated her outfit.

  “Thanks. Come on. Let’s eat before the lasagna gets cold.”

  Anja carried the plates to the table, while Susanne followed with their glasses of wine.

  “Sorry I don’t have any napkins,” Susanne said as they sat.

  “Doesn’t matter. This is perfect just the way it is. Much better than a restaurant.”

  “Really?”

  Anja nodded.

  Susanne lifted her glass. “To a perfect evening.”

  To us, Anja wanted to say, but since they were taking it one day at a time, that might have been too much, so she nodded and looked into Susanne’s eyes. “To a perfect evening.”

  They clinked glasses and then dug into the steaming lasagna.

  The taste of tomato, fresh mushrooms, zucchini, bell pepper, and cheese burst on her taste buds. “I know I keep repeating myself, but…wow!
You can cook, and you can ink up a fountain pen. You might be—” She stopped herself before she could say, The perfect woman for me.

  Again, that implied too much of a long-term commitment, didn’t it? Anja suppressed a sigh. This taking-it-one-day-at-a-time thing was tougher than she had expected.

  “Might be what?” Susanne prompted when Anja fell silent.

  “A much better date than your sister. Did you know she’s taking Miri to a tree-top ropes course on Saturday?” She shivered at the thought of flying from tree to tree on a zip line.

  Susanne laughed. “Yeah, I know. Not your idea of romance?”

  “No! If I sink into your arms, I want it to be because your kisses make me weak in the knees, not because I’m toppling over in sheer panic.”

  “Well, I didn’t have time to make a dessert, so we can test out if I can actually make you topple over after dinner.”

  Even though she wanted to savor every bite of the delicious lasagna, Anja found herself eating a little faster.

  After dinner, they worked together to clear the table, rinse the dirty dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. It felt very domestic, and Anja found that she loved those quiet moments when their hands brushed as she handed plates to Susanne.

  Once the kitchen was clean, Susanne led her over to the couch.

  Muesli was still sitting on the other side of the French doors, and he started tapping on the glass when he saw them.

  Susanne gave a weary sigh. “Want to let him in?”

  “Well, that depends.”

  “On?”

  Anja smiled. “If he stays outside, is there an alternative source for some cuddles?”

  Susanne tapped her chin as if having to think about it. “I guess since I’m the hostess, I could provide some.”

  “Poor you.” Anja put on a faux sympathetic expression. “That sounds like a horrible sacrifice.”

  Susanne nodded gravely. “Yeah, but someone’s gotta do it.”

  Anja rose and pretended to head to the French doors. “If it’s such a hardship to you, I’m sure we could get Muesli to—”