“Yes. I usually bring a sack lunch. Aren’t you working in Powell City?”
“Yes. Tomorrow—no. Wednesday. I could do Wednesday. I could pick you up at work, and we could have lunch at my place.”
“Or at the grill or the Spicy Burger on the highway,” she said, “since it’s my beautiful smile you want to see. I can smile at the Spicy Burger.”
He laughed, a rich, warm, real laugh. He liked her. It was exactly the same feeling she had had in junior high school when Bobby Zaragoza carried her books—He likes me; a boy likes me. “Okay,” Frank said. “Spicy Burger.”
****
“I didn’t expect it to be so easy,” she told Alix on the phone.
“You thought he wanted a little afternoon delight? You should go to his place sometime soon, though, before you get in too deep.”
“I am in too deep.”
“Any deeper, then. You can learn a lot about a man from his bachelor pad. Stuff about what he’d be like to live with. It’s good he wants you to see it—means he’s not married.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.”
“You should have been. It happens all the time. Are you afraid he’ll tie you up?”
“No, I think I made myself clear. It does creep me out a little, though. His wanting it, I mean. He said something about liking my vulnerability—maybe he thought I would be an easy mark.”
“Were you?’
“Not as easy as he expected, but…maybe I am. What I keep thinking is…he’ll take care of me. It would be so easy to let him. Stop struggling. Stop going it alone, chin up, stiff upper lip.”
“Yeah,” Alix said. “Tempting.”
“I don’t want to depend on him. I can’t. After Brett, I can’t depend on anybody. It’s too soon…I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“He’s too damn hot to pass up?”
Teresa laughed. “Yeah, there’s that.”
Chapter 11
On Wednesday she made herself a lunch as she always did, in case Frank had to cancel and leave her to her own devices. Life with a SWAT officer would require a lot of flexibility. Her caution seemed justified when he called to say he was running late and couldn’t pick her up. He wanted her to meet him at the Spicy Burger instead. He was very apologetic, and the request was perfectly reasonable, but a niggling part of her mind wondered if he didn’t want to call attention to their relationship by being seen at her workplace.
He wasn’t at the Spicy Burger when she arrived, but she had barely climbed out of the pickup when his Acura pulled into the lot. He parked close, got out, and headed straight toward her, smiling eagerly. He took hold of her shoulders and kissed her hard. “God, I missed you,” he said.
“I guess you did,” she said dryly. She wasn’t used to PDA—Brett would never do more than hold hands in public, which might be why Frank had assumed they were married.
“It was a rough morning,” he said. “I’m so ready for this.”
“Did somebody get hurt?”
“No, but it was touch and go for a while.” He put his arm around her as they headed toward the entrance.
“Did you ever get shot?” she asked.
“No. Somebody hit me with a bottle once. I have a scar, but you can’t see it.” He touched his head just above the hairline. “How was your morning?”
“Pretty routine.”
“You shouldn’t have to waste your time on such a dead-end job,” he said.
“I like it.”
“But what you really want is to be a veterinarian, right? You could be a full-time mom and finish college online.”
“And live on what?”
“Hm, let me see….” He was teasing her.
“I see. I suppose you’d want me barefoot and pregnant?”
“Well, you do have pretty toes. Think how great it would be for your son. I’m sure you’re doing the best you can, but he needs a strong male role model and a mother who can devote all her time to him.”
Teresa repressed everything she would have liked to say and let him open the door for her. The Spicy Burger was busy, and they were in line long enough for him to put his arms around her from behind, press her against him, and touch her breasts in a way she found very disturbing. She couldn’t decide whether it was a good kind of disturbing or a bad kind.
“Frank…” They were in a public place, after all.
“Damn!” he said. She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She was feeling the same way. He kissed her ear and nuzzled her cheek. “What do you want to eat?” he asked blandly, pretending nothing was happening between them. When it was their turn, he ordered two jumbo burgers with cheese and no onion.
“For here or to go?” the clerk asked.
“Teresa?” Frank said in the caressing way that made her name sound like an endearment. His hands distracted her, and she couldn’t answer fast enough. “To go,” he said.
Apartment buildings in Cougar were scarce, so she was not surprised Frank’s place was in the recent development at the end of River Road. It was a new building with four large units, and his apartment was very modern and masculine, to her taste almost sterile, but with clean lines, beautiful furniture, and hardwood floors. It bore no feminine touches, no pictures of Edris, no sign any woman had ever lived in it. At first she saw only the living room and the bedroom. “The food will get cold,” she protested, but without much conviction.
“That’s why they make microwaves,” he said.
The bed was king-sized and very comfortable. She lay back against soft, silk-encased pillows, and he kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. “You are so damn hot,” he said, sliding his hands under her T-shirt, inside her bra.
“It’s not me,” she said. “Adrenaline probably makes you horny.”
“No, it’s definitely you. You know how in the movies they always show people tearing each other’s clothes off?”
“Hollywood sex,” she said dismissively.
“I never wanted to do that until I laid eyes on you.”
“Yeah, well, I have to go back to work, so you’d better not tear anything.”
He laughed, delighted. “You are a breath of fresh air, Teresa. I want to make a baby with you.”
“No, Frank. Get a condom or we’re not doing this. We’re not teenagers.”
“What did I say about you not being tough?” he asked. He kissed her. “Let wiser heads prevail.”
****
The microwave was large and stainless steel, like the stove, refrigerator, and sink. The countertops were black granite, the backsplash glass tile, and the cabinets white maple and glass. The spouting whale mug she had given him was next to the coffeemaker. Frank tried to separate the tomato, lettuce, and pickles from the burgers, in order to reheat them, and made a mess of it. Teresa took over.
“Obviously I need a wife,” he said. “This place has two bedrooms. If we got married—”
“Patience is a virtue, Frank.”
“One I don’t have, where you’re concerned.”
When the burgers were ready, they sat at the kitchen table to eat. “Okay, here it comes,” Teresa said. “I’m going to make a speech, like a damned Hallmark movie.”
“Uh-oh,” he said, but he didn’t sound worried.
“You know this will pass,” she said. “This honeymoon phase. New love. Then you have to face reality. You have a dangerous, high-stress career, and I have a child with a disability and abandonment issues. I’m too independent to be the kind of wife you need, and you seem to want to smother me. My life is a struggle right now, and it would be so tempting to let you rescue me, but we’d both be sorry in the end. I’ve taken too much from you already. I need to give you back the phones. I don’t even know what the charges will be.”
“The bill will come to me. Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t let you do that! A gift is one thing, but paying my bills is—”
“Teresa.”
“What?”
“That’s all bullshit.
” He reached across the table to take her hand. “This is real. And you know what? Hallmark movies always have happy endings. I’m totally sympathetic with the whole women’s lib thing, but you need help, and I can—”
“You’re going too fast! We have to take it slow. You haven’t even met Aiden.”
“Let’s do it, then. I love you, and I’m proud of it. I’m tired of sneaking around trying to keep this secret. Can I stop by tonight?”
“No, you can’t. We have to take it one step at a time and start with a brief meeting on neutral ground.”
“You know best when it concerns your son, of course,” he said, “but I think you’ll see I’m right about this. It seems so…inevitable to me.”
“If it is, waiting won’t change it.”
“All right.” He took a deep breath. “Show me those signs again.”
When the brief lesson was over, she told him about Alix letting Brett see Aiden. “She thinks he should know Brett didn’t want to abandon him.”
Frank shook his head. “He shouldn’t try to be friends with a man who hurt his mother. I hope you know I would never do that.”
She should have said yes, but she took a big bite out of her burger and said nothing.
“Teresa?” He took her hand again, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Oh, I know what this is,” he said regretfully. “I shouldn’t have brought up the bondage thing. Please forget about it. I wouldn’t have hurt you, but if I scared you or made you think I’m a pervert—”
“You did make me uncomfortable,” she said.
“I wouldn’t even have thought of it if you hadn’t said what you did about the handcuffs.”
“I meant I liked them as a dramatic image. It wasn’t about sex.”
“I’m sorry. You didn’t smile much after I brought it up, and I missed your smile. I’d still like to try it with you, but you know, you can’t have everything. You’d probably like me to be George Clooney.”
Teresa laughed. “No, but I wouldn’t mind seeing Lake Como sometime. I’ll tell you what—” She could joke about it now. “If you take me to Italy, you can tie me up.”
“It’s a deal.”
****
“His apartment is bigger than my house,” she told Alix on the phone. “It’s not my style, but it’s obviously expensive. I hate stainless steel, but the kitchen is beautiful. And the bathroom! Subway tile, huge glass-walled shower, jetted tub, double sinks.”
“And did you see the bedroom?” Alix asked suggestively.
“Big walk-in closet.”
“And—?”
“Silk sheets. Don’t ask.”
“So, it’s going well?”
Teresa sighed. “I don’t know. This is sort of lopsided. I like him, and the sex is great, but I don’t feel like I’m falling in love, and he seems to be totally obsessed with me.”
“You know, kiddo, you’re probably still pretty numb emotionally. My advice is to enjoy this for whatever it is—an exciting rebound fling—and see what develops down the road.”
“Yeah, but things are developing a little too fast on his end.”
“Repeat after me: Slow down, Frank.”
“I’ve said it a hundred times.”
“Keep saying it,” Alix advised.
****
Thursday night, when she and Aiden came into the grill, Frank was sitting at the counter with a nearly empty beer mug in front of him. He was talking to Lacey, which gave her a pang, but the conversation looked casual enough. Alix was busy with a customer, and Teresa sent Aiden to sit in the corner booth.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Frank looked around, pretending surprise. “Oh, hi, Teresa.” Lacey sniffed and sashayed away. “Having a beer,” he said blandly. “Fancy meeting you here.” The twinkle in his eye told her it was no coincidence.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“You mentioned it. Thursday, as usual.” Had she? She didn’t remember saying anything, but she hadn’t been censoring herself with him. “We met here—on a Thursday.”
“Right.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see him—she had in fact felt a definite tingle of pleasure—but he was upsetting what they had planned. She shook her head at him, gave Alix a little wave, and joined her son.
She had just sat down and put her purse on the seat when Sasha ran up with a menu in hand, very fetching in an apron much too big for her. “What you gonna have, missus?” she asked pertly.
Teresa laughed. “What would you recommend, miss?”
“Octopus,” Sasha said. She giggled.
“Fried or grilled?”
“Fried with…strawberry sauce.”
“I see. In that case, I think I’ll have the meatloaf sandwich.”
Sasha turned to Aiden. “What you gonna have, mister?”
He signed, “Hot dog, noodles, cheese.”
“What was that, mister? Speak up, please. Golly shakes!”
“Don’t tease, Sasha,” Teresa said. Was Frank right? Did Sasha bully Aiden? Or was she overprotective? To Aiden she signed, “Say, ‘Same as always.’”
He repeated the signs and said distinctly, if not very loudly, “The usual.”
Sasha grinned and ran off to put in their orders. “Good job,” Teresa said warmly.
She was sitting with her back to the bar—Aiden liked the far corner—but she was very much aware of Frank getting up and walking toward the booth. “Hi,” he said, as if he hadn’t already greeted her.
“Um, hi,” she said. “Aiden, this is my friend Frank”—she fingerspelled the name. “Frank, this is my son Aiden.”
“Hi,” Frank said again. He fingerspelled h-i, doing a creditable job.
Aiden spelled h-i back, a little wide-eyed.
“I hear you like hot dogs,” Frank said, making the sign for hot dog. “Me too.”
Aiden looked at Teresa and back at him. “S-W-A-T?”
“SWAT,” she interpreted for Frank. “Yes.”
The boy’s eyes grew wider. “You shoot bad men?” he signed, and Teresa translated.
“If I have to.”
“Can I see your gun?”
“He wants to see your gun,” she said faintly. She hated the very idea.
“I don’t have it with me,” he said. He made eye contact with Aiden and didn’t raise his voice. He waited for her to interpret and then said, “Another time.”
“Cool,” Aiden said, barely audible but using his voice. She gave Frank a look: Leave ’em wanting more.
“I have to go,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, Aiden. Maybe I’ll see you both at Oktoberfest.” She watched him go before she turned her attention back to her son. He looked absolutely thrilled. Clearly, accepting Frank was not going to be a problem. How close he would want to get was another matter.
****
She called Frank when Aiden was asleep. “You blindsided me,” she complained.
“I thought it would be better if it was more spontaneous,” he said. “I love it when you call me, even if it’s to tell me off.” His voice was so warm and intimate in her ear, making her feel very close to him. “I think the meeting went pretty well, don’t you?”
“Yes, he was very impressed.”
“Where would you like to meet on Saturday?” he asked.
“You don’t want to be spontaneous?”
“I don’t want to wander around hunting for you.” He demonstrated plaintively: “Teresa! Teresa! Where are you?”
She laughed. “Dope!”
“I love your laugh,” he said. “I’d like to come over right now. Is Aiden in bed?”
“Yes. And no, it’s not going to happen.”
“I know, I know: be patient. This thing starts at nine? Is parking a problem?”
“It’s free on the streets if you’re early enough, or there are lots where you can park for a few dollars, and the money goes to charities.”
“How about if I sit in the parking lot and watch for you and just happen to c
ome up behind you?”
“A little obvious,” she said, laughing. “They’re supposed to have a dachshund race—Aiden will want to see the puppies, so we’ll go there first.”
“A boy needs a dog,” he said.
“I have all I can do to take care of Aiden and myself.”
“So you wouldn’t want me to give him one?”
“No. Why? Do you have a spare one around somewhere? I think you’ve given us too much already.”
He sighed. “Slow and steady wins the race,” he said.
“Well, it works for the dachshunds.”
Chapter 12
The dachshunds weren’t slow or steady, but they were very cute. Eight dogs were entered, a lot for so small a venue. Four were only puppies, and they were all amateurs—a good thing, as constant racing would have been abusive. Most of them didn’t run at all. The boldest three dashed across the course to their waiting masters, and it was nearly a photo finish. None of the spectators cared, least of all Aiden, who squatted to pet the most sociable pair.
“Hi,” Frank said behind Teresa.
She hadn’t been thinking about him, totally focused on her son and the dogs, but she was very glad to see him. He looked great, tan and rested. He gave her a quick squeeze while Aiden wasn’t looking, and they walked together to join him. At the last second, he took her hand, and she couldn’t pull away without being obvious. She didn’t think it was a good idea, but she liked the way it felt.
If the boy noticed, he gave no sign. He looked up at Frank, plainly awed. Frank signed, “Hello.”
“Hi,” Aiden said shyly. Curiosity won out over diffidence, and he signed, “Have your gun?” Teresa translated.
“Not today. I’m not working today. I’m here to have fun.” She slipped her hand out of his to translate. She couldn’t tell if Aiden was disappointed. “Where shall we go next?” Frank asked.
Aiden took a second to understand he was the one being asked. He shrugged, looked at his mother, and then signed, “Dance?”
“Folk dancing,” she explained. “He likes to watch.”
“He can’t hear the music…?”
“He can feel the vibrations underfoot, and he likes the costumes and the movement—it really is something to watch. Pretty girls—you should enjoy that.”
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