Decker's Wood

Andi’s blush made me smile even bigger. “Oh, and what exactly would you say to her?” she asked a little breathlessly.

 

Was that a green light she had just gifted me, playful flirting that she was encouraging? She had no idea what she had just begun. I moved slowly around the counter. She looked so damn adorable standing there with a mug in one hand and dish towel in the other. Her startled eyes stayed on mine as she backed away until the counter trapped her right where I wanted her. Leaning forward, I placed my hands down on either side of her, effectively imprisoning her; she was mine to play with.

 

“It’s not so much what I would say, but more what I would do,” I murmured.

 

“Oh?” Her voice seemed unsteady.

 

Oh yeah, she was feeling the sexual tension. I liked that she responded to me. It was good to know this wasn’t a one sided infatuation.

 

“Uh huh. Your boss always smells good, like cinnamon, so the first thing I would do is lean in close so I could draw that delicious scent right from her skin and fill my lungs with it.” I dipped my head down to the arch of her neck. I didn’t touch her but her skin still broke out in goose pimples. I drew my nose along her neck, up to every woman’s sweet spot right below the ear. I barely touched her but the hitch in her breathing made me smile. With the backs of my fingers, I lightly ran my hand down her arm from her shoulder past the crook of her elbow to the tips of her fingers. I couldn’t take her hand like I wanted to, she still had the mug and dishrag, so instead, I allowed my fingers to feather over the back of hers.

 

“Andi,” I whispered in her ear. She didn’t say anything, and I knew words had eluded her right now. “Come play with me,” I continued. “I want to take you to the park.” Fighting the need to press myself against her and kiss those perfect lips, I slowly pushed away. Fuck. That look right there almost unmanned me. A hunger no woman had ever bestowed on me. Sure, I’d seen lust and desire, but this look was much more. This was a girl who knew me, all of me, and right at this moment she wanted me with a fierceness that vibrated from her body and soul, making me hard as wood. After a moment, she seemed to come to her senses, and with a blush in her cheeks that made me want to beat my chest with pure male pride, she eyed me mischievously.

 

“On one condition,” she whispered, still leaning against the counter, her body frozen in a state of perpetual lustful shock.

 

“Name it.”

 

“I have an appointment on Friday afternoon. If you look after the store for me then, I’m yours now.”

 

I’m yours was all I heard, nothing else penetrated the fog in my brain.

 

“Not a problem,” I found myself saying. Not a problem? I hadn’t worked behind a counter, ever. And I had no idea how to operate the fancy coffee machine that I was now staring at with apprehension.

 

“Don’t worry. The sexy boss will give you a crash course,” Andi murmured, patting my chest as she walked by. “Give me five and I’ll grab my bag.”

 

*

 

The drive to George Washington Park was not a quiet one. Andi’s mouth seemed to have developed a damn life and heartbeat of its very own. She talked incessantly the entire way, about books, coffee, Bradley, Casey, and Lionel. She told me how Bruce, the Asian grocer who owned the corner store at the end of her street, now stocked cookies and cream ice cream, because that was her favorite. She barely paused for a breath, but I didn’t care. Andi’s voice alone would cause angels to pause and admire. Once at the park, we stood before the Washington Square Arch, and Andi was finally speechless. The marble archway stood seventy-seven feet high and thirty feet wide. With symbols and words of war and peace, it was an iconic architectural marvel.

 

“The north side holds the sculpture of George Washington at war, flanked by fame and valor. The western pier is George Washington at peace, accompanied by wisdom and justice.” With my own interests in building and architecture, I marveled at the detail and strength of the monument. I wasn’t sure what Andi got from it, but the awed look on her face told me she was impressed.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “My fish was named Washington,” she continued.