Count on It by Caden Ashford

On Sunday morning I'd barely gotten down my first glass of orange juice when the phone started ringing. Granted, it was fairly late to be having breakfast since I'd slept in, but I couldn't help but wonder who would call me at eleven in the morning on a Sunday. I grabbed the phone from its cradle. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Jessica. Did I wake you?" asked Kate from the other end.

I was smiling instantly. She had said she would call, and call she had. "No, I was just about to make myself some breakfast."

"Well?are you opposed to having breakfast made for you?"

I found my eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking?I know this diner?they do really great brunch."

I lifted my shoulder, holding the phone against my ear so I could use both hands to rinse my juice glass. "Brunch sounds great," I answered, putting the glass in the sink and shutting off the water, transferring the phone back into my hand.

"Great! So?should I come get you in?half an hour?"

I looked down at my boxers and tank top and pulled a face. "Umm?how about forty-five minutes?"

"Sure. That's fine. See you in forty-five, then."

"Yeah."

"Ok?bye."

"Bye." I put the phone back in its cradle and took a deep breath. "Here we go," I mumbled, walking into my room and straight to my closet, looking at the clothes hanging there and wondering what I should wear to go to a diner for brunch. Nothing fancy, I'm sure, I told myself, pulling out a pair of jeans. I went to my dresser and rummaged around, taking out three sweaters, four shirts, and putting them all on the bed to try and decide on what to wear. I wasted a lot of time choosing the right one, so much so that by the time I'd picked out an outfit, twenty minutes had already passed and I had yet to hop in the shower.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I made it through my shower in record time. I was running a comb through my hair when the buzzer sounded and I went to let Kate in, returning to my room and seeing the remains of my closet frenzy lying on my bed. One of the sweaters called to me from the bed and I cursed and changed into it instead of the shirt I was wearing, mussing my hair in the process. I swore again and went back to the mirror to comb my hair back into submission, but Kate was at the door so I had to let it be for the moment.

I answered the door in all my disheveled glory to see Kate perfectly put together, still in boots, jeans, and leather jacket over a plain gray t-shirt, making me wonder briefly if she ever wore anything colorful. I invited her in and excused myself to fix my hair, gritting my teeth when one particular piece refused to lie flat. I broke out the hair products then, finally relaxing when I won the battle and things stayed the way I wanted them to. Satisfied, I straightened my sweater and left the bathroom to rejoin Kate, smiling back when she smiled at me.

"Ready to go?" she asked, pushing herself off from the wall she'd been leaning against.

I grabbed my keys and wallet from the table by the front door and nodded, following her outside and locking the door behind us. We went down the stairs to her car and piled in, and only then did we start a substantial conversation.

"So where are we going, exactly?" I asked, playing with my keys.

Kate seemed intent on driving, so she didn't look at me when she answered. "It's this little place I know - been there for years. They make really good breakfast food."

"Just breakfast food?"

"Nah, the other stuff is pretty good too, but it's the breakfast that always gets me," she said, smiling as she glanced at me.

"You have a soft spot for pancakes, too?"

Kate chuckled. "French toast, actually."

I grinned. "I make a mean French toast."

"You do?" she asked, glancing at me again.

I nodded. "It's one of the first things I learned how to cook. My dad helped me make it for my mom on mother's day when I was probably six years old."

There was a pause, but then Kate said, "Do you cook a lot?"

I shrugged. "Not as often as I'd like. It's just a bit depressing to cook only for myself. I mean, I spend all that time in the kitchen preparing something, and then?it's gone, you know? Without anyone else to tell me it was worth my time, it doesn't really feel that way. That's why Mrs. Wu knows my order so well."

Kate smiled but didn't reply, still focused on the road. I leaned back into the seat and relaxed for a while, listening to the classic rock playing through the radio as usual. I turned my head to study Kate after a while, only then realized she hadn't lit up yet. Unable to stop myself, I cocked my head and asked, "What, no cigarette?"

That earned me another sidelong glance, this one slow and searching. "Not this morning," she said, mumbling something else I couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

"I said my Uncle Danny would kill me," she answered, turning the car into the parking lot of what I assumed to be our destination.

"What's your Uncle Danny got to do with anything?" I asked, getting out of the car once she'd parked it and following her to the door.

She chuckled and opened the door for me, following me inside. "My Uncle Danny owns the place," she answered, and before I had a chance to comment, the tall, thin girl at the hostess' podium grinned and threw herself at Kate.

"Katie!" she shouted, hugging her.

Kate looked mildly embarrassed as she returned the hug and then pried the girl's hands off. "Hey, Kelly."

"What are you doing here? It's been forever!"

Kate shrugged and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "I was hungry."

Kelly laughed and turned her hazel eyes on me. "Who's this?" she asked, tucking a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear.

"Jessica," answered Kate, and I smiled at Kelly and stuck out my hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

When Kelly reached out to shake my hand, the pushed-up sleeve of her baseball shirt rode up, revealing an intricate Celtic knot tattoo on the inside of her forearm. "Nice to meet you, too," said Kelly, her grip firm. "I'm Kate's cousin, Kelly."

Just then a short man with a barrel chest appeared out of nowhere and pulled Kate into a crushing hug. "Katie!"

Kate laughed and hugged him back. "Hi, Uncle Danny."

"Where've you been? We've missed ya on Sundays," he said, stepping back and only then seeming to notice me. "Who's this young lady?" he asked, gesturing at me.

"Jessica," I said, holding my hand out to him.

He shook it, his grip even firmer than Kelly's, almost making my hand hurt. "Always nice to meet Katie's friends," he said, grinning at me. I couldn't help but smile back.

Kate looked around and took her hands out of the pockets of her jacket. "So are you gonna let us sit down, or what?"

He laughed. "Come on, we'll take care of ya. We always do, don't we?"

I locked eyes with Kate and she shrugged, looking a bit apologetic. "They're family," she said, by way of explanation, then ushering me forward and getting me seated at one of the tables, stopping to take off her jacket and hang it over the back of her chair before sitting across from me.

Kelly appeared again, slipping a menu in front of me before pulling a chair up to our two-person table and sitting down. "So, whatcha been up to?" she asked as I opened the menu and started to browse.

Kate shrugged. "You know. Work, the usual. How's school?"

"I'm so glad it's almost over."

Kate chuckled. "High school sucks."

High school? I thought to myself. If Kelly was in high school, she had to be younger than I thought - maybe seventeen or eighteen.

"And how about those college applications? Last I remember you hadn't started them."

Kelly groaned. "Can we please not talk about it?"

I glanced up from the menu to see that Kate was looking very seriously at Kelly. I looked back down quickly before I could get caught, but kept my ears open. "I don't want you to wind up working in some piece of shit garage tuning shitty cars like I do," she said, her voice low.

"What if I want to work in a piece of shit garage?" Kelly shot back.

"Save it," cut in Uncle Danny, putting a cup of coffee in front of Kate. "The usual?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"What about you?" He turned to me, head cocked to one side.

"Pancakes, please," I said, handing him the menu.

"What else?"

"Uh?orange juice."

"And?"

I stared.

"What d'you want with the pancakes? Bacon, sausage, or hash browns?"

"Um. Hash browns, please."

Danny chuckled and looked at Kate. "She said please twice. That's twice as much politeness as I ever hear from you, eh?" he said, winking before turning and going back to the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, picking up the coffee cup and taking a sip. The expression on her face was the same as when she took that first long drag of a cigarette - utter bliss and contentment. Being a cigarette to touch those lips must have been nice, but being that coffee would have been even better. Then you would get to caress that mouth, slide down that long throat, and warm her from the inside out. I wondered if she'd ever feel that way about me - if I'd ever warm her from the inside out.

"So how's it going down at the shop?" asked Kelly, breaking me from my reverie.

Kate shrugged. "It's work. Same old broke-ass junkers as ever."

"Nothing exciting lately?"

"If you call replacing the transmission on a '02 Camry exciting, then sure."

"Aww, man, you had a transmission busted and you didn't tell me?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Because it's so thrilling to fix, you just had to be there."

"It's interesting!"

"But it's not what you want to do with your life, now is it?"

"How do you know?" answered Kelly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kate took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"Fuck you," she growled, standing up and stalking back to the hostess' podium.

Kate shook her head and got up, replacing the chair where Kelly had taken it from. She sat back down and looked at me. "I'm sorry about that."

I studied her for a moment, seeing the tense way she held herself and the furrow between her eyebrows. I wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and smooth it away, but I folded my hands in my lap instead. "She's in high school?" I asked instead.

"Yeah," answered Kate, toying with her coffee cup. "For someone so smart, she can be a total idiot."

"What do you mean?"

"Well?like with the whole college thing. She could go just about anywhere she wants, but instead she thinks she wants to bum around all day and fix cars like me."

"But what if that's really what she wants to do?"

Kate held my gaze for a long moment. "You don't give up your education to work on cars. If it's what she wants to do, she can go to school and then become a mechanic. She'd get paid better, anyway."

"You don't like your job?"

"No, I love my job," answered Kate, leaning back in her chair. "But who knows what else I could have done if I'd gone to school?"

I nodded and propped my head up on my hand. "What did you want to be when you were growing up?"

Kate looked down at her coffee and mumbled something.

"What?"

She sighed. "It's stupid."

"It can't be any more stupid than what I wanted to be."

"What did you want to be?"

I smiled. "Uh-uh. I asked you first."

She blushed a bit. "I actually wanted to be a mechanic."

"Really?"

She nodded. "My dad was a mechanic. He was always bringing home project cars and working on them in the driveway. Sometimes he'd let me help."

"And you thought it was cool, huh?"

She looked wistful for a moment and then lifted her cup. "Something like that." She took a sip of coffee. "What did you want to be?"

I grinned. "I wanted to be a farmer."

She almost snorted. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "I loved digging in the backyard and I loved helping my mom plant flowers. My favorite game was picking the little grass stalks with seeds?I called them wheat and I'd try to see how many I could collect in a day."

Kate was smiling. "You really wanted to be a farmer."

"I really did."

"How long did it take you to grow out of it?"

I smiled. "As long as it took me to decide I wanted to be a pirate, instead."

Kate smiled back. "A farmer and a pirate. Those are pretty different."

"What can I say? I started reading adventure stories."

"How old were you?"

I paused to consider. "Eight or nine? Somewhere around there, I'm not sure."

Uncle Danny appeared again, depositing a huge glass of orange juice on the table before me. "So, beanpole, where've you been?"

"Busy, Uncle Danny," answered Kate, picking up her coffee again.

"Lots going on at the shop?"

Kate hummed and took a sipped of coffee. "Yeah, something like that."

"Not enough time to pop by the diner on a Sunday? Your mom says she hasn't seen you in weeks."

"My mom can remember that I don't live with her any more," she grumbled.

"Aw, Katie, she just misses you, is all. We all do."

She sighed. "I'll try and come by more often, Uncle Danny."

He clapped her on the back and refilled her coffee cup from the carafe in his free hand. "That's all I'm asking," he said, letting his hand rest on her back for a moment before returning again to the kitchen.

I rolled my head on my neck to stretch it and resettled, getting comfortable in my chair. "Why didn't you go to college?" I asked, keeping my voice low and even in an attempt to make the question less intimidating.

Kate took a deep breath. "The big one, huh?"

I nodded.

"Well." She took a sip of her coffee and stared over my shoulder for a while, seeming to collect her thoughts. "I did go to college."

"You did?"

She shook her head. "For a little while." She looked back at me and smiled sadly. "My dad?isn't well."

I suddenly felt like a heel. Here I was grilling her for answers, and one of her parents wasn't in good health. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry -" I started, but she waved a hand to cut me off.

Kate was looking down at her coffee again, and I could see by that same furrow between her eyebrows that she didn't enjoy talking about it. "He?his brain doesn't?he's?" She sighed and shook her head, and I felt even worse.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," I suggested.

"No, it's?you should know." She locked eyes with me, and I gasped at the chill in her gaze. "My dad has early-onset Alzheimer's. He's sixty-two years old, and he's losing his mind."

I didn't know what to say to that, except, "I'm sorry."

She looked away again. "My parents got divorced when I was nine, and?I?I was still in college when he was diagnosed. There was nobody else to take care of him, not really, so I decided I'd come home and move in with him and take courses here instead, but?it was hard, you know? Neither of us was making any money, and there were always bills to pay, so?eventually I quit and found a job instead."

"Working on cars?" I asked.

"Working on cars," she repeated with a slight nod. "I don't have to work a full work day all the time, so sometimes I can stay home with him, which is nice. It's?been a while since he was diagnosed, so things have gotten pretty bad. Sometimes?" She took a long sip of coffee, looking like she was trying to calm her nerves with it. "He forgets things easily. In the house it's usually okay, because I kept everything the way he always kept it, but?other things?" She shrugged and looked back at me. "The other day, he asked how one of my friends was doing - a guy I haven't seen in probably five years. I told him I hadn't seen him in a while, but then?dad asked me again later, and again after that." She blew out a breath. "I dunno. Not every day is like that. Sometimes it's almost like he's his old self, but then he forgets something else and it all comes back."

I reached across the table and took her hand. "I'm really sorry," I said, not knowing what else to say.

She looked down at our hands, threading her fingers through mine. "Shit happens," she answered.

Something about the phrase, or about the way she delivered it, struck me as funny. As inappropriate as it was, I couldn't stifle my giggle. Our eyes locked then, hers sparkling with amusement.

"You think that's funny?" she said, her face totally blank, but I could see the humor in her stare. Still, though, I knew it was a bad time to be laughing, so I smothered my giggles.

"I'm sorry," I said again when I'd gotten myself back under control.

Kate let go of my hand and drew her own away. "God forbid it ever happens to one of your parents."

I swallowed and nodded.

"What are they like?" she asked.

"My parents?" At Kate's nod, I shrugged. "My dad is an 'investment banker,'" I said, making air quotes with my fingers. "And he's probably one of the most boring people you'll ever meet. He likes to make model ships."

"Model ships?" she echoed.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. He likes to make ships in a bottle."

Kate frowned a bit. "I dunno. That sounds fascinating."

I wrinkled my nose. "Boring," I insisted.

"You say tomato," started Kate, making me smile. She smiled back and picked up her coffee cup again. "What about your mom?"

"Oh god. My mom. Now there's a topic."

"What's wrong with your mom?"

I shifted in my seat. "Nothing's wrong with her, exactly. It's just?okay. What do you think of when you hear the words kindergarten teacher?"

Kate thought for a moment. "Let me guess. Short?"

I nodded and held up a finger to show her she'd gotten one thing right so far.

"Blonde." I added another finger. "Really enthusiastic about everything." I showed her another finger. "Hmm?does she wear ugly Christmas sweaters?"

I laughed and stopped counting on my fingers. "Like you wouldn't believe. And Halloween sweaters, too. The catch is that she makes them all herself. It's not like she's bad at knitting or anything, it's just?well?"

"She's bad at knitting."

I sighed. "Yeah."

"And she gives you something she knitted every year for Christmas, doesn't she?"

I groaned. "Scarves, usually, but a couple of years ago it was a sweater. She made me wear it all day, too - it was hot pink and one of the sleeves was too long and the other was too short."

Kate laughed. "Is knitting all that she does, or is she actually a kindergarten teacher?"

"She used to be, before I was born, but when I came along, she decided to quit teaching. Once I was old enough, she went back to being a substitute teacher, but most of the time she stays at home with her jungle full of plants and knits."

"Badly."

"Very badly," I corrected. "She's gotten involved in this volunteer project lately where you make blankets for underprivileged children."

"How bad are the blankets?"

"She's getting a little bit better, but sometimes I think the poor kids would be better off without them." I couldn't help but smile when Kate started laughing. "What about your mom? What's she like?"

Kate's gaze turned towards her uncle. "About as stubborn and loud as Uncle Danny. Really, everyone in the Brown family is that way - they love to argue and they love to make you feel guilty for not paying them enough attention. It's the Irish Catholic in them."

My eyebrows went up without my telling them to. "You're Irish?" I asked, finding it hard to believe. Given how tall she was in comparison with her uncle, and how dark she was in comparison with Kelly, it was hard to believe they were related at all, apart from some kind of vague facial resemblance.

She shrugged and swirled the remains of her cup of coffee. "I take after my dad," she said, and that was her only explanation.

I stared at her. "Is that it? That's all I get?"

She smiled and looked up. "I should have known you wouldn't be satisfied with that."

"Oh, come on, is anyone satisfied with 'I take after my dad?'" I asked, folding my arms over my chest. "If anyone saw you and your uncle next to each other, they'd think 'uncle' was a term of endearment."

"Alright, alright," she said, pushing the cup away from herself. "Everyone in my family is average height or shorter, like Uncle Danny. Kelly got some tall genes from her mom, but the rest of her is pure Brown - the hair, the eyes. Did you notice the tattoo?"

"Celtic knot?"

Kate nodded. "Plus, she chose to go by Kelly. There isn't a more Irish name out there, except Erin."

"Her name isn't Kelly?" I asked, confused.

"No, her name's Megan. Kelly is her middle name."

"Oh."

Kate licked her lips and I found my eyes following the path of her tongue, but I forced my attention away and instead grabbed my orange juice. Getting all hot and bothered in her uncle's diner was not my idea of fun.

When I looked up again, Kate was studying me intently. "What?"

"Are you an only child?" she asked.

I frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. Just curious, I guess."

I forced myself to remove the scowl from my features. "Yeah, I'm an only child."

"Me too," she answered, pulling her coffee cup close again. She picked it up and took a sip, but grimaced when she realized that the tiny bit that had been left had gone cold.

I cocked my head to one side. "Do you wish you had siblings?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I mean, of course I thought about it when I was younger, but looking back, I think it would've made things harder rather than easier. After my parents got divorced, it was hard enough for my mom to take care of just me. Two or three kids would've been too much for her to handle."

"And you were a devil all your own," added Uncle Danny as he appeared with our plates. "Your poor mother would've had a heart attack if you'd had a brother or a sister."

Kate ducked her head. "At least I didn't stay a bad kid."

"No, you were just a bad toddler." He set down a plate of pancakes in front of me and, not surprisingly, a plate of French toast in front of Kate. He grinned, directing his words at me. "I used to tease this one's mom all the time about spawning the devil."

Kate smirked. "Yeah, well, Aunt Kara paid your debt on that one." I must have looked confused, because Kate's smirk turned into a mischievous smile and she glanced up at Danny, eyes gleaming. "Twin boys can cause a lot more damage than one little girl, huh?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Speaking of, how are Sean and Leo, anyway?"

Danny scratched beneath one ear. "Well, Leo says he's busy with his music, and Sean?well, you know Sean."

"Extremely ready for the start of soccer season?" she guessed.

"Yep."

"When's Leo's next show? Do you know?" she asked. And then, remembering I was there, she flashed me a smile. "My cousin Leo's in a band. He plays the piano."

"What kind of band?"

"Eh, beats me," answered Danny. "It's loud - that's about all I know."

Kate shook her head, smiling. "It's just a jazz band, Uncle Danny."

"Yeah, well, I get a headache every time I go see him play."

She rolled her eyes. "That's because you hate jazz."

I couldn't help but laugh as Danny playfully swatted at Kate, who ducked out of the way. "Enjoy your brunch," he said, chuckling as he walked away.

I picked up the little pitcher of syrup on the table and poured some over my pancakes, still smiling. "Your uncle's pretty funny," I said, setting it back down and picking up my fork instead.

Kate took the syrup now and shrugged. "It runs in the family," she said, dousing her French toast.

We started eating, me chewing as I thought. "Is your cousin Leo really in a jazz band?" I asked.

Kate nodded. "It's just the college jazz band, but he and a few of his friends practice outside of that. They hope to play at a real jazz club some time."

I looked down at my pancakes, trying to control the blush I could feel starting when I thought about how bold I was about to be. "Maybe, uh?when they do, maybe we could go." There was silence. I risked a glance back up at Kate to see her beaming at me, and I felt the knots in my stomach relax.

"That'd be great."

I grinned back and held her gaze until I got uncomfortable, then looked back down, and continued eating my pancakes and hash browns.

We ate in silence for a while, listening to the clatter from the kitchen and the drone of the other patrons talking around us, but then Kate spoke up. "You know," she said, cutting off a piece of French toast, "my dad used to cook French toast for me." Her voice was soft, as was her gaze, as she studied her plate. I didn't know what to say, so I let her keep talking. "After my parents got divorced, I'd go to his apartment on the weekends and on Sundays, instead of making me go to church like mom did, he'd make us French toast."

I swallowed and reached across the table, leaving my hand open on the table, palm up. She took my hand and I smiled at her. "I'll have to make you some French toast some time, then."

When she looked at me, her smile was shy. "Really?"

I grinned. "Yeah."

We sat grinning at each other like fools for a long moment, but eventually Kate released my hand and shifted her fork to spear another bite of French toast. "I'd like that," she said, her voice soft as she held my gaze. I felt my own demeanor softening, opening to her, and letting my fondness for her and my fascination with her show. If I'd had balls, she would have had me by them; as it was, it was as if Kate had reached into my chest and grabbed hold of my heart. The longer we spent together, the firmer her grip became, and the deeper her fingers penetrated, pressing into my heart and slipping further into my affections. In that moment I realized that it would be all too easy to fall in love with her, and despite the fear the thought stirred, I felt my pulse race in anticipation of what might come next.

The moment ended when Kate looked away, leaving me staring at her for a while, my eyes caressing the planes of her face, examining the play of light and shadow along her neck, the way the sun kissed her cheek. I studied the way her hair fell, pulled back as it was into a ponytail, the midnight cascade of it along the back of her neck. I was about to write a mental discourse on her fingers when I realized where that train of thought would take me, so I derailed my libido by refocusing on my own meal.

We had a bit of idle chat over our food - very light conversation compared to the earlier talk of her dad's illness. I told her stories about some of my mom's greatest knitting failures and Kate, in turn, told me about some of the worst cars she'd ever had to work on. It was refreshing to talk about such mindless things, and the time flew by until we were both finished with our meal. I had a short argument with Uncle Danny over the price of my meal, but he wouldn't hear of me paying a dime. I was stubborn too, though, and I left a hefty tip on the table when we finally got up to leave. Kate just laughed and told me Danny would find a way to get it back to me.

Kate hugged her uncle and her cousin and assured them she'd be back soon, but still had to endure a guilt trip about how she never stopped by. Kate had to promise Kelly she'd call about anything interesting going on at the garage before we were finally allowed to leave, seeking the sanctuary of Kate's SUV.

The moment we were out of sight of the diner, Kate reached into her jacket and pulled out her cigarettes and her lighter, fumbling with them only for a moment before she managed to stick one between her lips and light it. My eyes narrowed when she took that first glorious drag, her own eyes closing in ecstasy, and this time I allowed my mind to go exactly where it wanted - wondering if that's what she looked like when she came.

I felt my groin tighten at the thought, and allowed my imagination free reign, painting out in my head exactly what it would be like to have Kate sprawled out on my bed, naked, hands fisted in the sheets, her hair sticking to her face with sweat, her cheeks flushed, panting and writhing beneath me, hips bucking to meet my questing fingers, that wonderfully erotic expression gracing her features.

Kate exhaled, blowing smoke out into the car, the look of ecstasy gone from her features and the scent of cigarettes strong in my nostrils. I bit my lip and looked out the window, knowing my cheeks must be flushed, and tried to slow my suddenly racing pulse.

If my fantasies are this exciting, sex with her must be absolutely mind-blowing, I thought to myself, closing my eyes and letting the classic rock on the radio calm me down. When I was back in control of my faculties, I risked a glance at Kate, only to see her intent on the road. I sighed and watched the road too, the constant changing sights giving me something platonic to settle my mind on.

Eventually I had to give Kate directions back to my apartment, but she made it most of the way there without needing my advice. All too soon we were parked outside my building and Kate was dropping her cigarette into a coke can resting in one of the cup holders. She turned to look at me and I stared back, relishing the electric connection I felt when our eyes met. It sent a thrill down my spine, straight between my legs, reigniting the fire I'd been so careful to put out before.

She unbuckled her seat belt and reached across the console, cupping my cheek in her hand and drawing her face to mine, pressing our lips together and ensuring that tiny flame turned into a roaring fire.

I broke the kiss long enough to unbuckle my own seat belt so that I had better access, groaning when I banged into the console between our seats. That made us both laugh and pull apart, albeit reluctantly.

"Look at us," she said, smiling. "Making out in the car like a pair of teenagers."

"I don't know about you," I replied, toying with the hem of my sweater, "but I'd much rather take this inside." I raised my gaze to meet hers, gasping when I saw the heat in her eyes, the naked lust that made my insides crawl with excitement.

Kate turned her head away, staring out the windshield and crossing her arms over the steering wheel. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

I sighed and had to admit she was right. It wasn't a good idea. We both knew we'd end up fucking like rabbits in my bed, and that wasn't how I wanted things to go with her. I wanted to take my time, to enjoy her body, and I wouldn't be able to do that in one frenzied afternoon. That would take hours, possibly days, and it was time we didn't have right now. "I guess you're right," I mumbled, looking out the window. We sat in silence for I don't know how long, but eventually I gathered my courage and heaved a sigh, fixing my eyes on Kate again. "I should go."

She nodded and pulled away from the steering wheel, and this time it was my turn to reach over and touch her face, press my lips to hers, though this time it wasn't frenzied. It was slow and sensual and full of the promise of what we'd share when we had the time. I moaned into Kate's mouth and whimpered when she pulled away.

"I'll be thinking about you," she whispered.

I sighed and nodded, retreating to my own seat. I grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath. "When will I see you again?" I asked.

"Soon," she answered, shifting in her seat. After a moment, she grinned. "Remember, you owe me French toast."

The implications of that shot a bolt of electricity through me, and I knew that the next time I saw her, we wouldn't be able to resist our bodies any more. "Is that a promise?" I asked.

Her grin was dark, hungry, and sensual. "Count on it," she purred.

I sighed and got out of the car, waving to her on my way into my building. As I closed the door to my apartment behind me, I heard her words again in my head, saw that smile that promised satisfaction, and let out a long sigh. I didn't know how long it would be until I saw Kate again, but I could tell already that it was going to be too long.