“Thank you. I have my cook make them with my special mayonnaise recipe instead of the regular stuff.”
“It’s delicious. But yeah, I missed it, too. I’m getting used to spin class,” I teased. It was more soherI was getting used to. “What are your plans for this Sunday?”
Her eyes moved upward toward the ceiling. “I’m doing a little housecleaning and then having lunch with my brother and nephew at home, but I’m free in the evening.”
“Nephew?”
Her smile grew, and her eyes lit up. “Yeah, Sean has a six-year-old son. Light of my life.”
“I didn’t know that.” For some reason, the idea of Angela swollen with our child came to mind.
“Yeah. Jeremiah,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.
“If you’re not too tired afterward, I’d like to take you out. There’s a movie playing in the park. I’ll even spring for the popcorn.” I wiggled my eyebrows, causing her to laugh.
“That sounds like a good deal. Won't you be too tired after work though? Don’t you have an overnight shift on Saturday night?”
“I do, but I’m never too tired to take you out.” I finished the last bite of my sandwich, savoring it.
“You are a charmer.”
“My mom used to say the same thing.”
“I bet she did,” she giggled.
We talked for a few more minutes, catching up on one another’s day. I opted not to go into too much detail about the apartment fire. I didn’t like the fear I saw in her eyes when she initially asked about the fire. It was the same look I sometimes saw my mother, and even my father, give when they asked about my work—which wasn’t often. We talked more about our common appreciation of old-school R&B music and the jazz festival we went to instead. Before I was ready for her to leave, Angela had to get back to work. That was my cue to take my ass home. I needed the rest before I had to get up for another twenty-four-hour shift the following day.
“All right then. Thanks, f?”
Whatever she was about to say was cut off by my lips on hers. I didn’t care that we were in a very public place. We hadn’t gone public with our relationship, but the combination of my growing need for her, and what the schmuck from earlier said about wanting a private show, made me possessive. I wanted to leave my mark on her, in front of others, so they knew to keep their distance. So, that’s what I did.
I pulled her into me with one arm, her hips pressed against mine. I took my time, feeling the plushness of her mouth, exploring the feeling of our tongues coming together. She tasted sweet, sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever had. I did my best to commit her flavor to memory. When she moaned into my mouth, I decided it was time to end the show there. I might’ve wanted to brand her with my taste for others to see, but I wasn’t about to give a fucking peep show.
“I’ll pick you up at five on Sunday.” My voice was thick, full of pent-up emotion and need.
“I’ll be ready.”
My cock jumped in my pants at the promise behind those words. I don’t even think she knew what she was promising, but my body did and responded in kind.
“It’s going to be a long two days,” I commented, pressing my forehead against hers.
Even her giggle made my body react. At that point, I released her. Suddenly, remembering I hadn’t paid for my food, I pulled out my wallet from my back pants pocket. A soft hand covered mine.
“It’s on the house.” Her voice was just above a whisper.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” She moved in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I have to get back.” She turned and walked away. My eyes trailed her from behind as she pivoted and tossed a wink at me over her shoulder before ducking back behind the bar.
Reluctantly, I headed out the door to my car. Most nights, the only place I wanted to go was home after getting off work. Even when I’d gone out with a woman or went to hang out with the guys after work, I always looked forward to going home alone. I found comfort in my solace most nights, but at that moment, I knew things were changing when I wished that she was coming with me.
****
Angela
My head popped up from the homemade tomato sauce I was mixing over the stove when I heard the sound of my doorknob turning and then the door pushed open.
“Angela, you home?” a deep baritone voice rang out.
