Chapter 13
The steak strips sizzled and popped in their own grease as I dropped the sliced onions and peppers in with them. I had tomatoes and lettuce chopped and ready for the fajitas, and I'd made enough for two hoping the tantalizing scent would draw Cici out to have dinner. I'd seen the entire town. All day Saturday had been festival fun, while most of today was spent hiking. I did a little fishing but threw everything back. I wanted to relax and enjoy our last night here, and fajitas were delicious and easy to make.
Cici's music stopped and I heard movement in the bedroom, but I focused on the cooking. I set out two table settings, two wine glasses, and the bottle of wine I'd picked up for with dinner. A few Coronas would have suited the meal better, but I knew Cici wasn't really a beer girl. It wasn't my intention to romance her, just to take the opportunity to get to know her a little better. After the walk down memory lane, I was all the more eager to spend time with her, despite her incessant need to run away from me all the time.
"Smells good," she said, and I turned to see her standing in the doorway. She wore an old t-shirt with a hole in it and stains down the front, along with some shorts that were so short if she turned and bent over, I'd get a show. I smiled.
"Fajitas. Want some?" I stirred the dish as it cooked down. The onions were getting soft but the peppers had a bit of time yet. Grease popped and landed on my skin and I jerked away from it.
"Bacon kisses," Cici said, strolling toward me. She leaned on the fridge and watched me cook.
"Bacon kisses?" I chuckled. "I'm not cooking bacon."
I tried not to pay too much attention to her as she talked. I didn't want her to get scared off again. But god was she gorgeous. Her green eyes sparkled as she stared into the frying pan. Full pouty lips turned into a smile and she sighed contentedly before speaking. "Grandpa always calls the grease splatters 'bacon kisses.' He said it's the price you pay for enjoying the delicacies of life."
"Your grandpa sounds like he knows what he's talking about." I used a fork to pluck a few peppers and a slither of steak out and tasted them. They were almost done. "Want to try?"
"Ummm..." She looked uncertain and shook her head. "If it's okay, I'll just wait until we sit down."
In the spirit of playfulness I said, "Wimp." I winked at her and she blushed and strolled over to the table where I had set the fixins. I had guac and sour cream, some sort of salsa and chips, and a bottle of volcano sauce--her favorite.
"Woah, you got Aubry's Volcano Taco Sauce?" She whistled. "You know how much I love this stuff. You can't buy it anywhere but the little corner deli on Seventy-First Street."
That victory had been hard fought, and I wasn't about to gloat and ruin it. I had planned this moment since the day she agreed to come, stopping by that deli on the way home. But I didn't want to throw my love bombs in her face. She'd been playing hard to get all weekend, or maybe it had been her just sticking to the plan. Either way, this moment was priceless. I picked up the pan and a trivet and carried them both to the table. The sizzle and pop of the grease reminded me of a Mexican dish being set in front of me at a restaurant.
"Dinner is served." I sat across from her and she dug in, loading her fajitas down with everything. I didn't know how she could eat so much and stay so thin, but she looked amazing. I found myself so distracted by her messy causal beauty I barely managed to eat one fajita. And any woman who ate like that in front of a guy either felt totally comfortable being herself or had zero interest in the man.
I hoped it was the former.
"This is so good. God I've been so hungry." She took a huge bite and some guac squeezed out of the tortilla onto her chin.
"Well you've been surviving on pre-packaged finger foods because you refused to eat with me. We can be friends you know." I paused and swallowed a bite of food. "Cici, I wanted to say I'm sorry for being such a jerk."
"Friday evening? Yeah, you were." She dipped a chip into her salsa and crunched it in her mouth, missing my point entirely. I didn't want to start bickering, but I was frustrated with her. The things that annoyed me when other women did them were suddenly infuriating about her. But they also turned me on so bad.
"Yes, well..." I dipped my head, wanting to thwart my rising temper. "I mean it. I didn't mean to call you a curmudgeon."
"I had to look it up," she said, waving a salsa-covered chip in the air. "That's a mean word for an old person and I'm not old."
"No but damn did you grow up." I allowed some of my true feelings to affect me and the minute those words left the tip of my tongue I regretted it. The room fell silent, only the sounds of Cici's chips crunching. I had intentionally invited her here to taste her forbidden fruit, but being away from the business of the city and my work life, I had begun to realize how much I actually liked her. Not just because she was hot, but because she was so dedicated to her job. She was focused and driven. She was smart and sometimes funny. And when we weren't screaming at each other, she was good company.
"I'm sorry." I took my napkin and wiped my face.
"No, it's okay." She shrugged but avoided eye contact. I couldn't tell if this was more "sticking to the plan" or if she was purposely distancing herself from me emotionally. She sat quietly, not eating.
"Uh, so..." I wanted to clear the air. I thought it was probably obvious I was attracted to her, especially after having nearly kissed her three times now. And I knew she felt how rock hard I was on that boat. The comment only served to solidify what I thought and if she thought the heat of the moment passion was only because I was a hornball, maybe me cooking for her showed her it wasn't the only thing I felt. "I really think you'd like the festival. They have this little tchotchke shop that sells glass figurines like the ones you have. They were your mom's, right?"
