Authors: Charity Pineiro
Carmen waited on the living room couch, wondering if she had maybe made a mistake agreeing to this date, despite her sister’s assurances Stone wasn’t as bad as she originally had thought. Carmen had found it hard to believe at first, but a long lunch conversation with Connie had relieved some of her doubts, but not all.
Paul Stone totally confused her. He wasn’t her type, in fact, she had never dated an Anglo before. It would almost be like going out with an alien. Connie had also mentioned that he was well off, another rarity among the working class types with which Carmen usually associated. He was everything she wasn’t and she wondered again what they would have in common.
And yet, she had felt an affinity with him on Christmas Eve night. Something she couldn’t quite define, but which had intrigued her. Normally one for getting involved with lost causes and bringing home strays, she had sensed something in him which called to that part of her. And there was that other something which stirred the feminine side of her. A quick glance, or a hesitant touch from him was enough to get her insides trembling. That had never happened before. That explained why she had said “Yes” when he had called her almost three weeks later.
The doorbell rang and she rose, walked to the foyer, and threw open the door.
He stood there and gave her a hesitant grin as she stood in the doorway. “Hi,” he said in low tones.
“Hi,” she replied, motioning for him to come in. As he stepped forward, he brought from behind him a small bouquet of daisies, and she accepted them, smiling. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, stepping into her home.
Inside, her mother waited to say hello and Paul approached, shook her hand, and thanked her again for the wonderful Christmas Eve meal.
Her mother blushed. “It was nothing. Any friend of Connie’s … and Carmen’s, is welcome in our home.”
Carmen dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek, handed her the daisies, and grabbed Paul’s hand to drag him out. “We won’t be too late,” she called out to her mother as they walked away.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Gonzalez,” Paul shouted as Carmen continued pulling him along.
Once on the front porch, she stopped tugging on his arm and turned and faced him, a broad smile on her face. “We were lucky.”
“I don’t get it,” he said as he walked her to his car and opened the door.
She looked up at him as she was sliding into the seat of his SUV. “If we hadn’t gotten out of there as fast as we did, the Inquisition would have started. She would have kept us for a good hour asking questions about where you live, what your parents do, and all that.”
He laughed and chucked her under the chin. “I’m an FBI agent, remember. I’d have gotten us out of that predicament.”
She arched one eyebrow, questioning. “You think so, do you? Where do you think Connie got her determination?” Carmen asked.
Paul had always wondered, but now he was more intrigued about what had influenced this enchanting creature, with her free spirit and quick smile. “We may have been doomed, then,” he responded and was rewarded with the smile he remembered even when he closed his eyes.
“As long as you recognize that, we’re home free.”
He shut the door behind her, walked around and got into his car. “I thought we might want to take a stroll after dinner, so how’s Coconut Grove?”
“Sounds great,” she replied, settling into the seat as he pulled out of her driveway and started the short drive to the Coconut Grove area of Miami. Originally an area of small artists’ shops and restaurants, in recent years it had blossomed, with a proliferation of shops, restaurants and a playhouse, all close to the elegant Mayfair Hotel.
Tonight they were headed to CocoWalk, an outdoor mall that boasted a large number of restaurants, shops, and a movie theater.
As he drove, he turned and looked at her, noticing that she seemed a little anxious. Her hands nervously toyed with the hem of her short leather skirt, pulling it down, but failing to find any give to hide the generous expanse of thigh revealed by the leather.
She had beautiful thighs, he thought. Leanly muscled, lightly tanned and well-rounded. He liked a woman who was all woman and not just a hanger for clothes. As he glanced at her again, he smiled at the short, midriff baring top that hugged her perfect bosom. Carmen was longer, less voluptuous than Connie, but still all woman.
Carmen glanced at him and caught his avid perusal. Her insides warmed and trembled at the intensity of his gaze. “Did you decide on somewhere to eat or are we going to play it by ear?” she asked, trying to deflect his attention.
Paul nodded and answered as he pulled the SUV off Highway One and onto one of the side streets that would take them back to the water and Coconut Grove. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so maybe one of the tapas restaurants?”
“I’ll eat anything and everything you put in front of me,” she admitted, then blushed at her frankness.
He smiled, giving her one of those warming glances again. “Where do you put it all?”
Heat traveled up her cheeks and she reprimanded him. “Gentlemen don’t ask ladies things like that.”
He demurred. “You’re right. It was inexcusable. By the way, how old are you?” he teased.
“Old enough,” she shot back, although she was several years his junior since he had to be about Connie’s age.
He stopped the SUV and parked. She hadn’t even realized they had arrived and that he had pulled into one of the parking lots right next to the CocoWalk. Without waiting for him, she opened the door, stepped out, and stood by the car until he came around, offering his arm to her.
She slipped her arm through his and they exited onto the main drag of Coconut Grove. The CocoWalk was just a block away and it was only minutes before they were at the door of the restaurant, waiting to be seated.
The hostess placed them at a window overlooking the street and left the menus. There was a wide assortment of choices. The portions were small, almost appetizer-sized for it was the intent that patrons would order several and share the dishes.
“Hungry?” Paul asked.
“Very,” she admitted and he smiled.
“I like a woman who knows her mind. Want to pick three and I’ll pick three?”
Carmen nodded, proceeded to choose a combination of Mexican, Thai and Chinese appetizers and Paul complimented her choices by adding a Greek hummus dip and more Mexican food.
“I think we got a little bit of everything,” he said after the waiter had taken their orders and brought over a bottle of wine, a hearty merlot to go with all of their choices.
Paul poured the wine and watched over the rim of his glass as she took a sip and licked a drop from her lips. Lord, how he wanted to lean over and taste them for himself. Instead, he set down his glass and asked, “I understand you work for Connie’s husband.”
She nodded and looked up at the waiter as he laid the first few plates on the table. “Yes, I do. Victor is a great guy.”
Carmen pointed to the dishes. “Which would you like first?”
You, he wanted to say, but held back, motioning instead to the skewers of chicken with
sate
sauce on the bed of sesame noodles. “Some of that would be good.”
She served him some, then took a skewer and noodles for herself. She bit into the grilled chicken with her perfect white teeth and tore off a small piece.
Paul bit into his own chicken and savored the peanutty taste of the sauce. “This is good,” he said and when he looked up, she had a forkful of the noodles in front of him. “Try these.”
He grabbed her hand and held the fork steady as he placed his mouth over the noodles, slipping them off her fork. “Delicious,” he said and as their gazes met, he knew she was recollecting Christmas Eve night for she blushed.
“Really good,” she replied, her voice slightly husky, and returned to her meal.
The waiter chose that moment to bring over more of the plates they had ordered and they returned to sampling the various entrees, sharing forkfuls and bites of each other’s meals. Talking and laughing in between.
As she finished with the last tidbit from her plate, sat back and wiped her mouth with a napkin, Paul thought of all of the famous erotic eating scenes from the movies.
Tom Jones
.
Flashdance
. She had beat every one of them tonight with the sheer exuberance of her character and her innocent, but sensual appreciation of all that was around her.
“Was it good for you?” he teased again, not sure of what it was about her that made him feel free. Uninhibited. He had spent a lifetime growing up with a list of rules and regulations about everything and anything, trying to be the gentleman of which his parents would approve. The lady sitting across from him seemed to care not a whit about any of those rules, and yet she was a lady in every sense of the word.
She blushed and sipped the last of the wine, but her hand trembled as she did so. “The
food
,” she stressed, “was very good.”
A deep chuckle worked out of him. “I’m glad. I thought we’d go for a walk, maybe get dessert later.”
Carmen nodded and after he had paid the check, they walked down to the main level of CocoWalk. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his side as they continued onward in the direction of the Mayfair. At the corner, there was a pedestrian mall between CocoWalk and the restaurant which boasted more shops and eating establishments. They turned into the mall and strolled from window to window, checking everything out.
Carmen enjoyed the feel of his tall strong body next to hers. With his height, she had given in and slipped on her three inch heels, but they still brought her head to just about his shoulder level, for he was a good six-foot two, if not more. She wondered how they had ever paired him up with her tiny sister for any kind of physical test and was amazed her sister had somehow bested him. She got the impression there weren’t many things Paul didn’t win.
At one point he turned, faced her, and dropped a kiss on her cheek, as natural as if it was something he did all the time, and she wished one day it would be. It was surprising to her, but she enjoyed his company. Enjoyed being able to drag out the real smile he seemed to keep hidden beneath a facade of charm and manners.
Carmen didn’t put much stock in such facades. Although she knew all the rules, having had them driven into her by her strict parents, she refused to let them dominate her.
“Come on,” she said and pulled him in the direction of one of the new restaurants along the walk, which in addition to food also had a variety of high tech games for both kids and adults.
Paul paid the admission fee and followed her up the stairs. Inside there was an assortment of electronic games, including a motorcycle kind of contraption that moved as the player negotiated the turns in the game. She pulled him in the direction of the cycle, waited until a youngster was done, then somehow managed to swing her leg up and over onto the cycle. It pulled the leather skirt even higher, but stilled covered everything, although just barely.
Carmen glanced back at him. “Join me,” she urged, holding her hand out to him.
He slipped on behind, his hips cradling hers. He bit back a groan and grabbed hold of her waist as she revved the cycle, took off in the race. The cycle shifted beneath him, moved from side to side as she negotiated the turns of the electronic course. At one point, she missed a turn and sent the cycle into the grandstands. The machine bucked beneath them, forcing him to hold onto her tighter. She laughed huskily, looked back at him for only a second before steering back into the race and completing the ride in a dismal twelfth place -- dead last.
He got off and held her hand to help her off the cycle. “Remind me never to get on a real bike with you,” he warned and chased after her again as she went from one machine to another. For the next hour, they played against one another. Shooting games, in which she claimed he had an unfair advantage when he won handily. More race games. Finally, a last cycle ride before he regretfully announced they had to make it a night.
Carmen made a small moue of annoyance, but somehow he knew she was just kidding.
When they returned to the SUV, he hesitated as she waited at her door. He stepped close, put his hands on her waist, and stood just inches away from her. “I had a really nice time tonight,” he admitted freely.
She smiled, leaned her hands on his shoulders, and ran her fingers along the nape of his neck, sending a frisson of desire through him, stirring him. He glanced at her, shifted his hands to the small of her back and drew her against him, letting her feel the effect she was having.
Carmen grew warm and moved her hand to caress the strong, straight line of his jaw. “I did as well.”
Paul leaned close and brushed his lips against her cheek, starting a flame of desire along her nerve endings. Wanting him, she turned her face, and met his lips with her own. His lips were hot, hard as he tasted her, igniting a fire deep inside.
She shifted her hips. Against her belly, his arousal was growing, burning against her. The blare of a horn and catcalls drove her from him.
Paul pulled away reluctantly, but was glad for the interruption. It had gotten out of control and he didn’t want to jump into this too quickly. He wanted to savor how she made him feel, not just sexually, but in every way. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Again she surprised him. “I’m not.”
He smiled, opened her door and helped her in, thinking he could spend a lot of time dealing with Carmen and all of her wonderful, exciting facets.
Carmen sat on the shore, her back propped up against the rough bark of a palm tree. She watched as Paul effortlessly skimmed across the water. As he balanced and then turned the windsurfer, the muscles in his arms and legs bunched, grew taut, then relaxed. She admired his athletic grace and the strength he controlled with such ease.
He executed one other run across the smooth waters of the bay and then turned the board into shore, coming up a few feet away from her, smiling broadly and shaking crystal droplets of water from his hair. “That was great. You ready to give it a try?”
Carmen smiled and nodded, but her insides were a mass of trembling goo. Although she considered herself relatively athletic, this sport seemed way too difficult. Still, she was willing to give it a try as she had told him when he had called a few days after their first date to invite her to go with him. Rising, she brushed sand off her bottom and strode into the shallow water along the shore where Paul was busy setting up a smaller windsurfing board for her use.
His head was bent and he was intent on his task. He mumbled for her to put on a life vest before coming over.
She returned to land, grabbed one from the back of the pick-up truck he kept just for his water sports gear, and slipped the bright orange vest over the black maillot she had worn in deference to their activities. Her bikini would not have held up for long on the windsurfer board.
This time when she approached, he smiled and held out his hand. “I promise, you will like this.”
“I will try my best,” she said, slipping her hand into his.
Paul drew her close with his one hand as he held the board steady with the other. He looked down at Carmen, grinning. “I will too,” he replied and bent his head, brushing his lips against hers. Her lips were warm and heated his which were cool from the spray of the water as he windsurfed. She leaned closer to his body, but the bulkiness of the vests kept them from getting too close.
Carmen pulled away, shrugged and looked at the board with some trepidation. “You really expect me to get on this?”
Paul laughed. “It’s just like surfing.”
“I’ve never surfed. Never even tried it or thought about trying it.”
Paul considered what she said and nodded. “Okay. How about thinking it’s an oversized skateboard?”
Carmen laughed and shook her head. “Nope. Didn’t do that either.”
“Scooter?” he offered hopefully.
“Nope. Not a big choice of things like that when I was little kid in Cuba.” A trace of sadness darkened her eyes and he regretted putting it there.
“How about we just give this a shot anyway? I promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”
She glanced at the board again, then at him. “Think you can handle me?”
Paul chuckled and grabbed her hand. “I think you’re just what I want to handle.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and turned her so that she faced the windsurfer, his hands resting on her waist. “Ready?”
Carmen nodded and he said, “On three. You’re going up on the board. One. Two. Three.”
On three he lifted her and tried to steady her as the board shifted under her feet.
Carmen managed to stay up for about thirty seconds. Then the board went one way and she went the other, straight back into Paul’s arms and down as her fall dragged them into the shallow waters.
They came up sputtering and drenched, laughing in one another’s arms. Paul hugged her and drew her close. “Okay,” he said. “So it may not be as easy as I thought. Want to try it again?”
She nodded, content to keep on trying so long as he kept on catching her in his arms. He counted to three again, lifted her, and this time she managed to stay up long enough to grab the bowed arm of the sail, balance for a minute or so before tipping the whole contraption over and ending back up in his arms.
Paul grabbed her around the waist as she came up out of the water, laughing and hanging onto him.
It was something he could get quite used to
, he thought. He joined in her laughter, his spirit feeling free and unfettered. “Have you swallowed half the bay yet?”
“No, not yet. Ready?” she asked him, turned, and placed his hands on her waist.
He smiled, bent, and kissed the nape of her neck, leaned close to whisper the count in her ear. This time when he lifted her, she stayed up. He was able to grab the edge of the board and keep it steady while he explained how to try and steer to catch the wind.
She looked down at him, a broad eager smile on her face. “I’m going to turn the board, slowly,” he said. “We can catch some wind, move down this stretch here close to shore. How does that sound?”
Carmen nodded, faced the sail, and he maneuvered the board. The light breeze filled the sail of the windsurfer and propelled her a few yards until with her precarious balance, she tipped over and into the shallow waters.
He sloshed through the surf, arriving just as she tried to remount the board again by herself. “This is cool,” she said, used his shoulder for leverage to boost herself up on the board, and skim the few yards back to their original location before coming to a tumbling stop again.
Paul walked over more slowly this time, and when she was able to get back on the board again on her own, he strode out of the water, sat back on shore and watched her as she made the passes back and forth, actually managing to make one hesitant turn before landing in the water again.
She came up sputtering and when realized he had escaped to land, she beached the board and came to sit down beside him. “That was fun,” she admitted, her breathing slightly labored from the exertion.
He glanced at her arms and legs. They were sprinkled with water which glistened like jewels in the sun. But beneath the drops, her muscles trembled from the exertion. “Let’s take a break and have a bite to eat. You look beat.” He reached over to a mixed pile of clothes and towels, picked up one of the towels, and handed it to her.
“I am tired,” she admitted as she wiped the water from her body, rubbed it over her head briskly. When she removed the towel, her short-cropped hair stood up in all crazy spikes and he reached out, smoothed it down.
It was like wet silk beneath his fingers. He shifted his hand, encircled the back of her neck, lightly kneading the muscles there. She dropped her head down and murmured, “That feels good.”
It did feel good.
Too good
, he thought as heat raced through him and centered in his groin, prompting a response that would be all too obvious with his bathing suit, and all too embarrassing. Regretfully he removed his hand and stood. “I’m going to get us some eats,” he told her as he rose and walked to the back of the pickup.
Carmen watched him go and took a steadying breath that had little to do with her physical exertions and more to do with the simple touch of his hands. She undid the buckles on her vest, tossed it aside, and nearly groaned as she ran the towel across her breasts. Her nipples were erect, tight, a combination of the chill waters of the bay and the heat his touch had generated. Wanting to hide the evidence of her desire, she grabbed her T-shirt and slipped it on just as Paul returned, carrying a cooler and blanket that had been in the bed of the pickup along with the windsurfing gear.
He laid out the blanket in front of her, kneeled, and started removing items from the cooler. Sodas, salads, and sandwiches. A bowl of what looked like fruit salad. He handed her a plate and spooned out the salads -- macaroni and potato. He offered her the choice of either ham and cheese or tuna.
“Tuna,” she replied and he placed the wrapped sandwich on her plate. She settled back against the palm tree and waited for him to join her.
Paul filled up his plate and sat next to her, leaning his big body on the side of the palm’s thick trunk. His shoulder brushed hers and Carmen struggled to concentrate on her food and not the feel of his warm skin. Or in the muscles of his legs as he stretched them out. “This is tasty,” she told him, trying to get her mind on track.
“Thanks. It’s an old family recipe,” he replied and bit into his own tuna sandwich.
“My mom makes something similar, only I like the pimentos in this salad.” She took another bite of the sandwich and tried to discern what gave it the interesting little kick. “So what’s your Mom’s secret or can’t you tell?”
Paul laughed harshly, mumbling around a bite of his sandwich, “My mom wouldn’t even know how to open the can, much less make something this tasty.”
“But you said it was --”
“An old family recipe. I guess I should have said Betty’s old family recipe.”
Carmen eyed him and tried to figure him out for it was clear he was holding back. She wanted to get past that and learn more about him. “Who’s Betty?”
Paul looked over at her. “Our cook. She was with our family all my life. She passed away last year.” He glanced away then and she could see it had upset him.
“I’m sorry for your loss. You miss her?” she asked, wanting to understand him.
Paul gazed at the horizon and thought about her question. Betty had been in his life for as long as he remembered. She was the one who had been there whenever he was home from boarding school. The one who would fix him cookies and milk and listen to whatever he had to say about the day. When he had gone away to college, Betty had the chauffeur bring over care packages of her goodies.
Miss her
? he considered.
“Yes. I miss her,” he admitted and told Carmen about all that Betty had done for him. He realized as he finished telling his story that his missing her had nothing to do with his stomach and the treats Betty had made for him. She had been one of the few people in his life who had truly cared for him and taken the time to listen to a young lonely boy.
Carmen reached out as he finished and took hold of his hand. “She seems like she was a nice lady and that you loved her.”
He had loved her, not that he had realized that until now. Nor had he ever told Betty that, although in retrospect, Betty must have known from his hugs and the letters he had sent her from boarding school and college. “Yeah, I loved her,” he replied gruffly, his voice tight.
Carmen continued to hold his hand as they finished their meal in silence. When she was done, she yawned, covered her mouth, and apologized. “I’m sorry, but that surfing wiped me out.”
He brushed a finger across her cheek. “Me, too.”
“Liar. You look like you could surf forever and not be tired.”
He smiled and pulled his shoulders back. “So you noticed my stamina, huh?” he teased and was rewarded with the faint blush of color which stained her cheeks.
“Tell me, is it difficult to get around?”
Paul tried to figure her out, but couldn’t. “Give me a clue.”
Carmen ran a hand along his shoulder, flashing him a quick grin. “Well, what with shoulders this big and a head that large, it must be difficult to get around.”
He laughed as she intended, reached out and grabbed her around the waist until she was forced to grab his shoulders for support. “I was going to lend you some part of me to lean on so you could take a nap, but --”
“I apologize then. I’d like nothing more than a quick nap.”
He helped her sit up. “All right, I accept your apology. Let me clean off the blanket and you can stretch out.”
Carmen watched as he did as he promised, then rearranged the blanket closer to the palm tree. He held out his hand, helped her rise, then he sat and leaned back against the palm. She kneeled on the blanket, realized that she could rest her head on his thigh and stretch out in the shade of the tree.
Paul patted his thigh. “Come on. I won’t bite.”
She lay down on the blanket and pillowed her head on the hard muscles of his leg. Straight above, the leaves of the palm rustled with a light breeze. Before her, the aqua waters of the bay gently shifted against the shore. She smiled, looked up at Paul, who was intently gazing at her.
A flush came to her face, but she chose to ignore it, instead twined her fingers with his and smiled sleepily. She murmured a husky, “Good night,” before closing her eyes and giving in to her tiredness.
The weight of her hand was a comforting presence, surprising Paul. He glanced down at her as she napped. Her breasts rose up and down gently with each breath. Her impish face was relaxed in sleep, yet still bore traces of happiness. Her lips had a slight smile and he hoped that somehow he was responsible even in a small way for that smile. He had never felt that way before. Never had thought of himself in those terms, as someone who could not only bring happiness to someone else, but also derive such pleasure from that.
She brought him joy. She made him ache, and not just physically. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes against the sting of tears. What he was feeling was all so new and all so fragile. He was afraid it would all disappear before his eyes if he made one mistake.
The way it had with his parents.
His memory was dim about exactly what he had done. He had often wondered about it as he grew older. All that he knew was that one day he had been at home and the next he had been sent off to a boarding school. He had asked once, why he had been sent away, and the answer had been that this was the way it was. His father and mother had both been sent away in similar fashions, although neither had seen it as a punishment. His brother had regarded it as a blessing, hating to be alone in the house with the servants and Paul.
As a child and even as an adult, Paul could never accept that decision. Not when he saw other families where it was different. Where children lived at home and measured their happiness not by the size of their trust funds and bank accounts, but by the approval and love of their parents.
In his child’s mind, there could only be one reason for such rejection -- his mistakes. His inadequacies. As much as he had tried over the years to prove himself worthwhile and to overcome the overwhelming feeling of not being good enough, he had never gotten his parents to come around and make them the kind of family he wanted. Nor had he been able to convince himself that he was up to par. As for his brother, they shared a lukewarm relationship at best.