and was surprised to see a clean and well-organized
kitchen, not a dish out of place. Say what you want about
O.E., at least he was a neat houseguest.
He pulled containers of food from the takeout bag, and
sniffed at their lids with his eyes closed. "Heaven!"
"The maître d' was horrified at the thought of blending
a meal. He insisted that I apologize in advance."
O.E. turned to her and gave a nod. "You did good." He
took out a plate and a bowl, some silverware and a straw.
When the table was set, he opened a cabinet full of liquor.
"A drink?"
I'm ready for this. Rebecca knew drinks would be on the
menu, and no longer worried where it might lead. "Some
red wine is fine." Her cautious side couldn't resist the urge
to ask, "Are you sure you should drink when you're on pain
medication?"
"Done with meds. Doesn't hurt much." He hoisted a
bottle of bourbon. "Use this for pain." He took out a glass
and nearly filled it. Then he poured a full glass of wine for
Rebecca and raised his drink to toast.
Rebecca touched her glass to his. "To your health, O.E."
They drank, then sat down.
O.E. poured his dinner into the bowl, raising it to his
nose and breathing it in. "Wonderful!" He set the bowl
down and watched her finish plating her dinner. She took
her time, enjoying the searing waves of heat coming from
his gaze.
When she was done, he picked up the straw and took a
long draw of the liquid lamb. Eyes closed, he leaned back in
his chair and moaned. "Thank you so much." They kept
eating and finished dinner in relative silence, the loudest
sound being the rattle of liquefied lamb ragout echoing up
the straw as he sucked the last drops from the bottom of the
bowl.
O.E. got up and pulled more bottles from Dan's liquor
cabinet. "After dinner nip?" He placed a bottle of gin on the
table and found a bottle of tonic water in the bar fridge.
"After all those women you've chased, I'm pretty
impressed that you still remember what I drink."
He leaned close to her and spoke carefully. "Never forget
the taste of your kiss."
How does he do that to me? Her mouth tingled at the
thought, and she inhaled sharply. She stared at him with
uneven breath. Part of her wanted him badly, a sexual
urgency that she couldn't deny. Another part of her was
suddenly afraid. Dinner was over, would she be dessert?
"I don't. . . I mean, um. . ." What was wrong with her?