Loving Again(15)

                “I’ll ignore that. And you forgot one.”

                “I did?”

                “Yeah, do you like to dance?”

                “Only the really slow ones.” He motioned to the waiter who brought over the check.

                “Well, we can work on that,” she said as she slid out of the booth.

                • • •

                While Sam walked Chihuly one last time, Amanda got out ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream and maraschino cherries and made sundaes for them. When they were finished eating, Amanda took the bowls back to the kitchen. She returned to the living room to find Sam had put music on.

                “Is that Chopin?” she asked.

                “Yeah, the nocturnes.” He listened to a few bars. “The second.”

                “Not what I’d have thought you’d pick. I would have imagined you’d have settled for my Jimmy Buffett.”

                “Which stereotype we working from here: cowboy or cop?”

                “Busted. Sorry.”

                “My mother was a classical pianist. I grew up with Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Mozart, Glass, Gershwin. You name it, if it was piano music, we had a recording of it. Or she played it. And speaking of stereotypes — you and Jimmy Buffett? I’d have thought you were more the Norah Jones type.”

                “One of the guys plays Jimmy in the studio and I’ve gotten to like him.”

                “You have all sorts of interesting quirks, don’t you?”

                She glanced up at him and looked around for a napkin. “And you have all sorts of chocolate syrup on your mouth.” She reached to wipe his mouth. “Here, let me … ”

                “Let’s try the way I wanted to get the chocolate off your mouth in the gallery,” he said and gathered her into his arms.

                His mouth was soft and cool; he tasted of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup and the all-male flavor she remembered as “Sam.” He kissed her tenderly, like a sweet and gentle first kiss. When her lips parted, he circled her mouth with the tip of his tongue so softly she almost thought she imagined it. He broke from the kiss. “Better?”

                “Oh, yes,” she said, having no idea whether there was still syrup on his mouth or not, and reached for him again.

                This time he took possession of her lips with an ownership that left her breathless. His hands moved up her back and to the sides of her breasts while his tongue did magic tricks in her mouth. She matched his intensity with her own, months of longing flavoring their kiss and fueling the passion of their embrace.

                When they came up for air, he traced the outline of her lips with his index finger as he said, “Any chance you can amend those first date rules of yours?”

                “I’m thinking seriously about it.”

                “How about we find someplace more comfortable for you to think about it?”

                She led him down the hall to her bedroom. When they got there she kicked off her sandals and started to undo the ties of her halter-top that wrapped around her waist.

                He came up behind her, reached around and stopped her hands. “Here, let me.” He undid the knot, unwound the ends and released the halter-top, slipping it over her head. He drew her back against his chest and caressed her breasts until she made soft noises of pleasure and her breathing quickened as he nuzzled her neck while he teased her nipples with his fingertips until they were hard.