Until I Saw Your Smile

by J. J. Murray

  Angela’s bedroom was as Spartan and plain as the living area. A solid blue comforter covered a full bed, several pillows propped against a low wooden headboard, a hammer resting on the nightstand under a simple white lamp.

  “It’s definitely warmer up here,” Matthew said.

  “Yeah.” She slipped off her shoes, removed her socks, and wiggled out of her jeans, pulled back the covers, and got in bed.

  Matthew stood motionless. Those were some smoking hot legs.

  “You okay?” Angela asked.

  “You have excellent legs,” he said. “Like sculpture.”

  “Thank you.” She buried her head in a pillow. “Are you going to tuck me in now?”

  “I’ve never tucked anyone in before,” Matthew said. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You could pull the comforter up to my neck,” she whispered.

  “I can do that.” He reached across her and grabbed the top edge of the comforter, pulling it snugly up to her chin. “What’s next?”

  “Make sure the covers are tucked in tightly all around me,” she whispered.

  He ran his hands between the mattress and box spring from one side to the next. “All tucked in. Anything else?”

  “I guess that’s it,” Angela said. “Good night.”

  “But it’s still morning,” Matthew said. He knelt next to the bed and kissed her cheek. “I hope you have sweeter dreams.”

  She freed her arms from under the covers and pulled his face down to his, kissing him tenderly. “Now I will.”

  Matthew stood, staring at the outline of Angela’s body. I want to stay. “I’ll be out there if you need me.”

  “Isn’t it obvious that I already do?” Angela asked.

  She needs me. I need her, too. Matthew nodded. “I’m glad you do. Get some sleep.” He turned to leave.

  “Oh,” Angela said.

  He looked back. “Yes?”

  “Keep watch over my money while you’re out there,” Angela said.

  Matthew looked through the kitchen into the living area. “You keep it in the couch?”

  “Your pillow has an inner zipper,” Angela said.

  Smart. “It must be a heavy pillow with all that change.”

  “I leave the change and about twenty in bills in the cash register, Matthew,” Angela said. “I sometimes have to make change for the parking meters. And in case someone desperate breaks in down there, at least they’ll have something for their trouble and hopefully won’t trash the place.”

  “You think of everything,” Matthew said.

  “I try.”

  “Good night, Angela.”

  “Good night, Matthew.”

  Matthew wasn’t tired or sleepy, not with Angela asleep and already purring less than twenty feet from him. The couch was also too short for his legs. He settled into the pillow and heard the crunch of paper. I literally have my mind on her money.

  He looked at the mantle over the fireplace and saw a few pictures of her parents. Her mother was beautiful, light-skinned and short, her father tall, dark-skinned, and handsome. Angela has her father’s eyes and her mother’s shape.

  In between cookbooks on a small bookcase, he noticed a few pictures of a young Angela, all knees and legs and smiles. The coffee table to his left contained no magazines, newspapers, not even a TV Guide.

  I’m resting in a time capsule. I’m back in a simpler time when family was everything that mattered. The Smiths had no time for anything else to matter.

  He counted the kisses he had received and remembered three really good ones. What does it mean if I can rank the kisses I get? Angela obviously believes in quality over quantity. I have to make every kiss count.

  It has been a very good day.

  Matthew felt himself dozing off and dreaming of Angela’s sculptured, toned, brown legs . . .

  Chapter 23

  Matthew felt a hot, sweaty, sexy weight on his chest when he woke several hours later.

  Angela has to be the best kind of blanket ever created. I love how her form fits to mine.

  He slid his hand down her back and felt more sweat.

  Angela opened her eyes.

  “How did you know I needed another blanket?” Matthew whispered.

  “I’m surprised I didn’t wake you,” she said. “I’ve been here for at least an hour. You sleep so deeply.”

  I’ve wasted an hour of my life I can never get back. “Did you miss me or were you cold?”

  “I was cold.” She crawled higher. “And I missed you.” She rubbed her nose on his neck. “And I had another bad dream.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Matthew asked.

  “No.” She kissed his ear. “Not now.”

  “Okay.”

  “You are so warm,” she whispered.

  He caressed her back through her thin T-shirt. “I’m hot because I was dreaming about you.”

  “Were we cutting down a forest in your dream?” Angela asked.

  Matthew smiled. “No.”

  “Sounded like it.” Angela kissed his chin. “It’s actually comforting to hear.” She looked out the window. “Look. It’s stopped snowing.”

  “It has?” He massaged her lower back and found it less sweaty.

  Angela crawled even higher.

  Matthew found his hands completely covering her booty. “There you go, moving your body under my hands again.”

  “Is this going to be a problem?” she whispered.

  “No.” He squeezed. My hands are in heaven. “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No.” She inched even higher. “You’re not comfortable.”

  “No, no,” Matthew said, cupping her buttocks. “I’m good.”

  She sat up. “Let’s go see if we fit in my bed.” She flung back the blanket and stood. “Come on.”

  Matthew followed her into the bedroom, where she had already pulled back the covers.

  “You first,” she said.

  Matthew slid under the covers, and Angela crawled on top of him, pulling up the covers behind her.

  “Angela, we are going to roast.” I’m so overdressed. “Unless I take off my jeans.”

  “Then take them off,” she whispered.

  Angela didn’t move while Matthew removed his pants, dropping them onto the floor.

  “Is that better?” she whispered.

  “A little.” It’s still too hot, and I’m getting bothered by her soft, hot flesh. “The, um, this position and the way you’re, um, positioned is putting me in an awkward position.”

  “Good,” she whispered.

  “My boxers have an exit, Angela.”

  She wiggled. “I feel you, man.”

  And now she’s wiggling. “I may escape and do you harm.”

  “Oh no, not that,” she whispered. “Down, boy.”

  He took several deep breaths. “It seeks warmth, and you are certainly warm.”

  “Don’t think of me as a woman,” Angela whispered. “Think of me as a blanket.”

  There’s no way I can do that. “You are the sexiest, silkiest, smoothest blanket ever created. You feel very nice.”

  “Thank you.” She wiggled again.

  “Angela?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t wiggle like that,” Matthew said. “I was beginning to calm down.”

  “I’m trying to get comfortable,” she whispered.

  “By grinding on me,” Matthew said.

  She looked up, batting her eyelashes. “I’m shaking the present.” “You’re doing what?” Matthew asked.

  “Didn’t you ever pick up a present and shake it a little to see if you could guess what was inside?” Angela asked.

  “Yes,” Matthew said, moving her hips slightly to the side. “But that’s not what you’re doing.”

  “Sure I am,” Angela whispered, centering her hips on him again. “I’m checking out the package.”

  Funny. “And what do you think of the package?”

  “I can’t wait to
open it.” She wiggled again.

  “You’re not nice,” he said.

  “Come on, Matthew,” she said. “Don’t you know that it’s International Flirting Week?”

  “You’re not flirting, Angela,” Matthew said. “You’re hurting.”

  “I’ll stop.” She slid her hands under his arms, massaging his shoulders. “I only want you to hold me anyway.”

  “I can do that,” Matthew whispered. Let’s take this slow so it will last.

  “Wait.” She slid her hand under the pillow and pulled out the Taser, placing it next to the hammer on the nightstand.

  My head was inches from electrocution. “Thank you.”

  “But if you snore too loudly . . . zzzt.”

  I hope she’s kidding.

  “I am so comfortable.” She kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

  “Should my hands stray during the night,” Matthew whispered, “I want you to know that they are straying without my permission.”

  “I’ll be sad if they don’t,” she whispered. “Good night, Matthew.”

  “Good night, Angela.”

  Matthew stayed as still as he could, but Angela continued to wiggle and grind. As a result, Matthew’s hands started to stray to her booty, her thighs, her sides, and the back of her neck. He slid lower in the bed until his lips found hers, and for a few furtive moments, they were dangerously close to becoming one.

  Angela sighed. “That’s . . . that’s feeling too nice, Matthew.”

  Too nice? “I was shaking the present.”

  “Consider me shaken,” Angela said. “You know exactly where to touch me.”

  “And you respond exactly when I want you to,” he said.

  She slid down and rested her head on his chest. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “I can wait, Angela,” Matthew said. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed his hand. “Thank you. I’m . . . I’m just a little scared.”

  “It’s okay.” He massaged her shoulders. “Go to sleep.”

  “Good night.”

  Matthew again watched Angela sleeping and felt calm and peace fill his body.

  He also felt sweaty.

  He noticed a great deal of steam on the window.

  We did that. We’re doing that.

  Very cool.

  Chapter 24

  Matthew woke to the sound of the shower.

  He swung out of the bed, went to the window, and looked outside. He saw nothing but a narrow alley and a Dumpster sporting a high hat of snow.

  He looked at the bathroom door after the water stopped, wondering how Angela would come out of the bathroom.

  A robe would be okay. A towel would be better, especially if it’s small. If she comes out dripping wet as only her sculptured self, then that would be best.

  Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and waited, hoping for the best.

  Angela opened the door and came out fully clothed in a black sweater, black shoes, and blue jeans. The only thing missing from her “uniform” was her apron.

  Matthew pouted.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  Matthew stood. “You’re fully dressed.”

  Angela blinked once. “It’s cold.” She threw her hair into a ponytail. “I’d wait at least thirty minutes before you take your shower.”

  “You’re opening?” Matthew asked.

  “It’s not snowing anymore, and I’m awake and well-rested for a change.” She looked at the bed. “Thanks to you.”

  “What if no one shows up?” Matthew asked.

  She pulled up the sheets and comforter, propping up the pillows. “If no one shows up by ten, we’ll do something else.”

  “Nine, and we’ll come back up here to take another nap,” Matthew said.

  Angela smiled. “Nine-thirty.”

  “Nine-fifteen?” Matthew smiled.

  “We’ll see.” She smoothed out the comforter. “Don’t you have a case you could be working on?”

  “I’d rather work on you,” Matthew said.

  Angela walked into the tiny kitchen. “We have to make a living.”

  Matthew caught up to her at the stairway door and turned her around. “I like the way you said that. We have to make a living.”

  “You’re putting us behind schedule already, man.” She kissed him briskly. “You don’t have to get up now, you know.”

  “I know.” He took off his shirt. “But I want to help.” He dropped his boxers to the floor. “Is there a towel in the bathroom for me?”

  Angela stared at Matthew’s chest, her eyes drifting lower.

  “Angela, is there an extra towel in the bathroom?” he asked again.

  Angela looked up. “The water won’t be hot yet.”

  He kissed her forehead. “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as it’s wet.”

  Angela’s eyes dropped briefly before flitting up to his chest again. “Please wait until it warms up.”

  He turned and walked into the kitchen. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I hope she’s watching. He looked back and saw her watching. Yes. “Don’t you have a coffee shop to run?”

  Angela nodded, smiled, and left the apartment.

  Monique taught me well, didn’t she?

  Matthew entered the bathtub and turned on the hot water.

  It wouldn’t warm up.

  Okay then. We’ll have to rough it.

  He turned the shower lever, and icy water stung him like a Taser.

  He took a two-minute shower.

  He wouldn’t feel his feet for several hours.

  After drying himself and fastening the towel around his waist, Matthew “borrowed” some toothpaste and brushed his teeth with his finger. As the first wave of Angela’s coffee rose up around him, he looked at the boxers, jeans, hoody, and T-shirt he had worn for two days.

  I can’t wear them again.

  Angela has a washer and a dryer.

  She doesn’t expect me down there for a while.

  Why don’t I do some laundry?

  While he did a quick mini load, he leafed through several cookbooks, marveling at the many uses for basil. After putting his clothes into the dryer, he hopped up onto the dryer to warm his feet while enjoying an interesting recipe for oatmeal pancakes that used wheat germ and buttermilk syrup.

  Angela burst through the stairway door minutes later and smiled. “I was wondering where you were.”

  Matthew tried to cross his legs, but the towel wouldn’t cooperate. I’ll just be exposed then, shall I? He lowered the cookbook. “Just catching up on some reading,” he said. “Fascinating stuff. Basil has so many uses. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  She laughed. “From now on, whenever I do my laundry, I will think of you in that little towel.”

  “I’m so glad I am already giving you memories,” Matthew said. “Are you ready to open already?”

  “I’m not open yet, and there’s nothing moving out there anyway. Driggs hasn’t been touched.” She approached him gradually, biting her lip. “And the longer I stay up here with you, the more memories I’ll have.”

  He closed the cookbook and placed it on his lap. “My load should be done in a few minutes.”

  She stood in front of him, placing her hands on his thighs.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Matthew said.

  “Think about what?” She moved her hands under the towel.

  “You have me at a severe disadvantage, Miss Smith,” Matthew said, scooting back. “Please behave like a lady.”

  Her hands stopped in the middle of his thighs. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave. I’ve never had a nearly naked man reading a cookbook on my dryer before.” Her hands continued to his hips. “What should I do?”

  “I am at your mercy,” Matthew said. “Be gentle.”

  She slid her hands down his legs to his knees. “I have so much power.”

  She does.

  “The things I could do,” she whispere
d.

  “Yes.” Thank goodness this cookbook is heavy. Her hands were making me rise to the occasion.

  She licked her lips.

  That wasn’t nice. Well, it was, but her timing wasn’t nice.

  “I’ll be downstairs waiting.” She skimmed her hands down his calves and backed away.

  “I’ll be right down,” Matthew said. “To do some shoveling.”

  Angela went to the stairway door. “The shovel’s probably buried by the back door.” She turned and squinted. “You look good in a towel.”

  “Thank you,” Matthew said. “I’ll bet you look good in a towel, too.”

  “Bye.”

  As soon as the door closed, Matthew jumped off the dryer and checked his clothes. Dry enough. He put them on and hesitated at the stairway door. Lock or not? I had better lock it and the landing door, just in case.

  He clicked open the series of locks on the back door of the kitchen, opened it, and kicked snow away until he found the shovel. He also noticed footsteps going into and out of the alley. Someone got seriously lost last night.

  He walked past Angela at the counter and headed to the front door with the shovel, grabbing his coat from the first chair.

  She poked out her bottom lip. “I’m sad.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re not wearing the towel.”

  “I’ll just have to do more laundry later,” he said.

  She smiled. “Don’t hurt yourself. That looks like heavy snow.”

  Matthew threw on his coat, pushed hard on the door, and the drift against it collapsed. He closed the door and shoveled out a ten-by-ten-foot section of the sidewalk as the world brightened around him. He made a pile high enough to block any view Angela might have of La Estrella. Her competition is still closed. Good. He packed more snow onto the snowwoman, adding some bigger cleavage and subtracting several inches from her rear. He reentered the shop, swatted snow from his shoes, and locked the door.

  “Are we open yet?” Matthew asked.

  “Not yet.”

  I can’t believe it’s not even six yet. He pulled off his hoody and sniffed the air. “What is that heavenly smell?”

  “I’m baking some apple turnovers,” she said. “I hope you didn’t freeze off anything important.”