“Do you plan to let him catch you?” he asked,
quietly.
“David, I have no romantic interest in Bas. I want to
learn to be his friend, and I'm fully aware he hopes it will become
more than that. He's a sexy guy and I'm sure he'll make some woman
a nice...” old habits die-hard, I almost said pet, “... boyfriend
one day, but what he feels for me borders on obsession. It’s not
healthy, nor is it the basis of a lasting relationship. I'll warn
you now; I'm looking for something with some staying power. I want
a guy who will be around for a while. If your plans are to hang out
for a couple of weeks then leave town, please don't string me
along.”
Curses on attentive wait staff! Megan chose that
moment to remove the chilled appetizer plate, while Lydia treated
us to the warmed, damp hand towels again. This time I detected the
scent of oranges and cloves. When I asked about it, Lydia let us
know we would have a differently scented, heated towel between each
course.
Megan arrived with the second course, which was a
warm platter. I could detect the scent of steamed asparagus tips
with herb mayonnaise before the girls started to describe the
dishes. Also included on the tray were bite-size pieces of
parmesan-crusted chicken, steak bites, and a selection of cubed
breads. The bread, we were told, could go under each bite of meat
to absorb some of the juices so we wouldn't end up coated in
chicken or steak juice. Somehow, the idea of licking a rivulet of
chicken grease off David's wrist didn't alarm me. In fact, I was
pretty sure the salt from his skin would greatly enhance the flavor
of each bite.
After our staff left, a furry head rose up and bumped
the bottom of the table.
“Hey, you’re gonna pass a few bites
down to me, right?”
“Get back down, bonehead. No bites tonight, we are
eating with fingers. I don't want dog cooties.”
“Red, I've got your back, I can accidentally drop a
few pieces over the side. Wait for the toe tap.” Puzzling. Unless
Janey told him, David wasn’t aware of our mind-speak ability.
“
Oh Teresa, we've gotta keep this one.”
Red's
vote was easily won. All it took was the promise of food. My dog
was easy.
David held my chin steady with a single finger
against my jaw. He was laughing as he painted a mayonnaise-tipped
finger over my lower lip, and leaned forward to lick it with his
tongue before sweeping into my mouth for a short exploration. When
he drew away from me he said, “I noticed the whole,
tap-the-toe-on-a-table-leg signal you two had going at the
restaurant the other evening. You would toe tap, Red would look
around, and you would, with impeccable timing, lower the food so he
could sneak a bite. Very smooth. Do you plan to share the secret,
or am I supposed to watch until I figure it out for myself?”
For the second time today, I will have to try to
convince someone Red talks to me. “I can hear Red's thoughts if he
directs them at me. Although, I have to speak out loud for him to
understand me.” I was silent after that little bombshell. Next move
was his.
“So, you're saying Red understands what we are
saying, not simply basic commands?” His finger still held my face,
and his breath was warm as he trailed nibbling kisses over my
lips.
“Yes,” again, silence. I was curious to see where
he'd go with this, the kisses
and
the line of
questioning.
“So while I'm talking to you like this, I could ask
your dog to put his head on my knee and he would do it?”
I nodded, “The dog has a mind of his own. He
understands what you said, but he would do it because he wants to
not because you told him to.”
Red must have placed his head on David's knee. I
could feel David ruffle Red's fur. Did he slip Red a piece of food?
“I hope you're not feeding me with the hand that's been in the
dog's mouth and petting his fur!” I said.
David laughed, “Left hand only,” he promised, “but I
did show him something, do you know what it was?”
“
Will only speak for steak,”
Red stated from
under the table.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Red.” To David, I
explained, “He wants me to bribe him with steak before he'll tell
me.”
David dropped an appropriate bribe over the edge of
the table because Red said,
“Well, chicken is close enough. He
showed me a key, and money.”
“Was it paper money or metal coins?”
“
It wasn't metal,”
Red replied.
I held David's face steady and plopped a piece of
steak in his mouth, “You are a sneaky man," I said admiringly. “Red
says you gave him chicken instead of steak, and you showed him a
key and paper money. He can't read, so I can't tell you the
denomination.”
David laughed, “Since I’m blindfolded, I don’t know
the denomination either.”
Dinner progressed slowly as we took our time playing
guessing games with Red between bites of food. We worked out a
system so when a server was close enough to catch us interacting
with the dog, Red would warn me and I would signal with a pat to
David's arm. Of course, this meant I had to touch him throughout
the evening, but neither of us was complaining.
I have no idea how many pieces of food “fell” off the
side of the table, but it was enough to keep Red happy while we ate
and talked. David got very good at painting various sauces across
my lips before stealing kisses. And, the kisses got better and
better.
I was full by the time dessert was served, but David
insisted on feeding me a few bites of the fruit compote. He had
taken his blindfold off and was taking pleasure in watching me eat
from his fingers, scented faintly with cucumber and ginger from the
last hand wash. I placed a slice of mango between his lips, and
when he bit down taking half, I felt the cool juice slide down the
inside of my palm. David was quick to grip my arm and hold it
steady while he ran the hot flat of his tongue over every inch of
my wrist. He suctioned the other half of the fruit from between my
pinched fingers, before sucking each digit, individually, to remove
any remaining juices. You have to admire a man who is thorough.
It was still early when we left Blind Seduction, and
it was David's idea to visit one of the local tasting rooms for a
glass of wine. When it comes to wine, I can go either way, red or
white. Not in the mood for one of my usual dry Chardonnays, I opted
to try a full-bodied blend of Merlot, Cabernet, and Shiraz. After I
swirled the wine in the bowl of the glass to release oxygen,
intensifying the aroma, I took a deep breath to inhale the scent
then held it to enjoy the complexity of the grapes. My appreciation
for wine had grown over the last few months as my sense of smell
sharpened.
I had taken my first sip of wine when David said,
“Just for the record, it’s my intention to stay in Spokane. It is
also my intention to pursue this attraction I feel for you. I
wasn't looking for a serious relationship, but I think we have the
potential for one. I like you, Teresa. You're witty, kind,
beautiful, sexy as hell, and you kiss like a fallen angel. I may
not have been looking for you, but now that I've found you, I want
to see where this goes.”
****************
“Where this goes” was nowhere, for tonight. When
David took me home, it was to find an impromptu poker game in
progress. While it would be suspicious of me to assume my friends
were sabotaging a possible horizontal ending to my date, Bas'
presence pretty much convinced me my friends were conspiring to
make sure I didn't lose my head, or my virtue.
David and I had a laugh in the car when he noticed
the lights in the living room, and Ken and Janey's cars parked in
the driveway. We shared a few kisses in the car and agreed on a
date, next week, for a concert at the local casino. We were both
joking about movie trailers as David escorted me into the den of
iniquity which used to be my dining room.
I have to give them all credit, it sounded like the
game had been going on for hours. Janey, no doubt, had the largest
pile of chips in front of her. David confirmed Ken's pile had
dwindled down to two short stacks of blue chips. Bas wasn't doing
much better. Surely, at least Bastian knew Janey always cheats at
cards?
“I hope you guys aren't playing for real money,” I
teased.
“Are you kidding?” Ken snorted, “We all know Janey
plays a crooked game.”
“Yeah,” Bas added. “We haven't figured out how she
does it yet.”
“I'm sure it can't be reflections in the glass table
top, right?” I shook my head at their gullibility. “Didn't you guys
wonder why she took the placemats off when they could have stopped
the cards from sliding off the table as she deals? Without mats she
can toss cards higher to keep them from sliding, and she has a
better chance to see the faces”
“Dude!” said Ken in disgust. “I knew she had eyes
like a friggin' eagle, but who knew she could count cards that
fast, too?”
Dude? Well the mystery of where Red learned
that
word was solved.
David laughingly asked how I knew the placemats were
missing. “Who do you think taught her to count cards and watch
reflections? She was my best protégé,” I told them, proudly.
Ken had bought a couple six-packs of beer for the
game, so David grabbed a bottle for each of us, and we settled into
the couch to chat and listen to the losers whine. Red was let out
into the backyard for his pre-bed rounds.
“To make sure the
grounds are secure.”
“Thanks again for a wonderful dinner,” I said quietly
to David, or so I thought, until Bas interrupted our conversation.
“Where did you two go anyway?” Ah, it was so tempting to make a
snide comment about getting a room at the Davenport Hotel downtown.
My thoughts must have been apparent on my face because David tapped
my arm and replied, “I took her to Blind Seduction.”
“Oh my gosh, how romantic,” Janey gushed. “Ken, Blind
Seduction’s the place I was telling you about where you feed each
other. One, or both of you, can wear a blindfold.
“How did you hear about that place, David?” Janey
asked. “It just opened, and I don't think I've even seen ads for it
yet.”
“One of the bellmen at the hotel recommended we try
it. He took his wife there last week for their one-year anniversary
and said he had fun feeding her dinner and desserts. His wife loved
it, too. It sounded like a unique experience Teresa might enjoy, so
I booked us a room.”
“A room?” Bas' tone was wary, as if he suspected
something illicit.
“More like curtained alcoves. We were supervised by
serving staff the entire time, Bas,” David explained, with a dry
tone.
“Well, except for the hour when they locked the
doors, turned out the lights, and piped in Barry White music,” I
couldn't help adding.
“Trouble maker,” David laughed and tapped a finger
under my chin. He bent for a quick kiss. “No Barry White,” he
corrected, “more like some new age flute and drums stuff.”
“Maybe, but Barry White makes for a better story,” I
argued.
The poker game took on a new life when Ken and Bas
insisted on the placemats. Janey's pile was so large by then, the
guys really had no hope of winning much back. Things wrapped up
around eleven p.m.
Bas, subtle as ever, asked David if he could hitch a
ride back to the hotel with him so Janey wouldn't have to go out of
her way.
So ended my evening. My date went home,
metaphorically speaking, with the guy who thinks he has a “thing”
for me. How weird is that?
I stretched and rolled over in bed only to feel the
brush of warm breath across my cheeks.
“Ewww, Red, don't breathe in my face! You have dog
breath.” I pulled the covers over my head to create a cooties
barrier. “I know where a dog’s mouth goes and I don't want yours
anywhere near my face.”
“
I've been waiting for you to wake up. Can I go
outside? I think the cat is in my yard again,”
Red told me from
his place beside my bed, muzzle determinedly resting on the
mattress.
“Fine!” I said, with feigned exasperation, flinging
off the covers to swing my legs to the floor. “I'll have to talk to
Ken about installing the dog door, like we’ve talked about, so you
can go in and out when you want.”
“
That would be great!”
His voice became sly
and considering,
“I bet the cat won't expect me to be waiting at
night when it comes over the fence. There's a perfect place under
the deck to wait.”
My smart dog was laying out an assault plan. I
suppose I should be concerned he was focused on the cat next door,
but I'm thinking the cat and Red are evenly matched opponents. It
was my opinion the cat was baiting him. Silly, evil cat.
I slapped my hand down on the clock, and was informed
it was Saturday, July 12
th
, 5:52 a.m. “Geez, Red, can't
you let a person sleep in?”
“
Imagine the possibilities, Teresa,”
Red
cajoled.
“This means you can fit three more cups of coffee into
your day by getting up earlier.”
I grinned at his reasoning,
knowing he made those numbers up. Dogs don't have a clear concept
of how long an hour is, and I wasn't sure if he had a clear grasp
of numbers either. Yes, a very crafty dog. I'm glad he's on my
side—I will only use this tool for the good of mankind.