“I’m outta here Heavy,” I called.
“Cool,” Heavy called back.
I walked to the front door and I heard Heavy say my name, so I turned. “What?” I asked, peering around a column to look into the living room.
He’d twisted around the side of his reclining chair to look at me. “I’ll go out for your birthday but not to one of those girlie bars with martinis or any of that shit. American beer. Televisions. Women wearing tight t-shirts. You doin’ that for your birthday?”
I smiled at him. “I could do that.”
“Great. I’ll be there.”
Then he twisted around again and stared at the football.
* * * * *
I went to the range and shot for half an hour then gabbed to Zip for half an hour then went home figuring Vance would be long gone. It was well after eight and I didn’t think Vance was the kind of guy who hung around for long after it was obvious his date had stood him up.
I let myself into the duplex and listened to Boo telling me about his day for a few minutes before I shut him up with some treats. Then I listened to Boo complaining about lack of treats for a few minutes before I shut him up with a kitty cuddle.
I dropped him and took off my clothes, got in the shower and cleaned off the sweat and gun smoke.
When I stopped the shower, Boo was sitting on my toilet seat, staring at me and then he told me how he felt about me stopping his cuddles and taking a shower.
“Oh Boo. Shut up,” I said.
He gave me a look and jumped down off the toilet seat, did a little graceless skid on the bath mat, corrected himself and flounced out of the bathroom, all haughty.
“Damn cat,” I muttered, smiling to myself.
I slathered with lotion that smelled of cucumbers and melon and pulled a comb through my hair. I put on underwear then I yanked on a pair of faded, navy blue, fleecy sweats with a drawstring waistband that I let ride low on my hips. The sweats had loose hems that had a small notch on each side at the ankle. They were too long and rested over most of my feet and dragged under my heels. I pulled on a white, thermal, long-sleeved shirt, scooped up Boo and headed over to Nick’s for leftovers. I knocked on the backdoor and stuck my head in.
“Nick?” I called.
“In the living room,” Nick yelled back, sounding impatient. “Monday Night Football,” he finished, explaining the impatience. You didn’t interrupt Monday Night Football at Nick’s. Or Saturday collegiate games. Or Sunday NFL day.
I walked in, dropped Boo and he pranced into the living room, big, bushy, black tail straight up. Then I heard him immediately complain to Nick about the lack of treats and cuddles on the other side of the house.
I opened Nick’s fridge. “You got any leftovers?” I shouted, head in the fridge.
“In here,” Nick yelled again.
I pulled my head out of the fridge, straightened, closed the fridge, turned and stopped dead.
Vance was standing in Nick’s kitchen in the exact same pose he’d been standing in mine that very morning, arms crossed, hip against the counter.
My eyes narrowed and I crossed the room in a flash, getting in his face.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed in a whisper, forgetting for a moment about our date and thinking he’d broken in, just like he had on my side. I was angry but also a little amazed. He hadn’t made a sound.
“Oh, Jules?” Nick called from the other room, “we got company. Seems you’re a little late for your date. I let him in so he could wait over here.”
Then I heard Nick chuckle to himself.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
When I opened them Vance was grinning at me.
I clenched my teeth.
Vance’s eyes scanned my face. “Murder is illegal,” he said to me.
“I’m willing to do my time; I just don’t know which of you to kill. How much more do you get if it’s a double homicide?” I asked.
His hand shot out and wrapped around my neck then he pulled me to him and I hit his body, full-on. I put my hands on his chest and pressed back with both my neck and my hands but I didn’t move so I gave up.
He got close to my face. “You don’t want me dead, you want me to f**k you. You can kill me after,” he said.
My eyes rounded at his bluntness then I pressed again and his other arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me deeper into him. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth to say something smart but he got there before me.
“Be careful, Jules,” he warned, voice low so Nick wouldn’t hear, his eyes flashing with an anger that I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m bein’ patient here. I’m not overly fond of bein’ stood up.”
Unfortunately, at this, since Vance hadn’t made anyone levitate recently and I was standing in the kitchen of the only family I had, therefore felt safe, I decided to spit in the eye of the tiger.
“I didn’t agree to go on a date with you. If I remember, you told me we were going out,” I said in a quiet voice too.
“We have things to talk about,” he returned.
“No we don’t. You already know everything. Your cop friends were searching my name yesterday and you have a computer guy at the office who’s been looking into me. You just used that as an excuse to make me talk.”
He got closer apparently unsurprised I knew all of this. “Okay, we don’t have things to talk about. We have things to do,” he said.
My belly fluttered.
“Like what?”
“Like finish what we started this morning.”
I knew that was what he was going to say.
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Yes. It is.”
“No. It… is… not.”
“You gonna come in here and get some food or what?” Nick shouted.
“Yeah,” I called.
Vance’s arms tightened.
“Let me go,” I said to Vance, going back to my quiet voice.
His hand fisted in my wet hair, held my head steady and he kissed me.
Oh crap.
This was not good.
I resisted and it worked for a few beats then his mouth opened over mine, mine automatically opened to let in his tongue and the minute it slid inside my mouth I melted into him and kissed him back.
Almost as quickly as it began, it ended and I felt of surge of disappointment.
His head came up and he looked down at me. “I’m gonna have you Jules,” he promised and at his promise, tingles rushed across my skin in a very a pleasant way. Then he let me go, turned me and gave me a little push toward the hall.