He grinned back.
Then his face got serious, he took a sip of wine and then set his glass on the table.
Then he did something even more beautiful.
He moved his arm from my lap but twisted his torso to me and replaced it with his other arm, wrapping it around my crossed thighs and pulling them even closer, tighter to his so I was forced to uncross my top leg and hook it around his knee. My bottom calf slid under my chair, my torso twisting toward his; he successfully created a private cocoon, a bubble of intimacy seated at a crowded sidewalk eatery.
“Need to talk to you about something,” he said softly, his eyes holding mine and, immediately, I leaned to the side even as I bent closer to him. I put my elbow on the table, my head in my hand and my eyes stayed locked to his, giving him my undivided attention and making sure he knew he had it.
Then I rested my other hand on his hard thigh and whispered, “What, honey?”
He didn’t speak for long moments as his eyes held mine then moved over my face, my hair, down my torso to my elbow on the table then back to my eyes before he did something else beautiful.
He lifted his hand and trailed his fingers down my hairline, starting at the temple then back to tuck a heavy fall of hair behind my ear.
Then he said something even more beautiful and he did it in his soft, sweet, rough-like-velvet voice.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.”
Oh God. Oh man.
I liked that and felt those words glide along my skin, coating it and I knew I could live a week invincible at the feel of them.
“You would know, you see it in the mirror every day,” I replied quietly, watched his eyes warm and also watched his mouth twitch as he shook his head.
Then he settled his hand at my waist and got to it.
“I know you don’t have a lot of time left here but you said you were goin’ shoppin’ with Luci.”
I nodded.
“I need you to feel her out.”
“About what?”
“You knew your girl Celeste for three days and she shared about her daughter. I need you to find out where Luci is at about Gordo.”
“I know where she’s at,” I told him and his brows drew together.
“She talked to you about it?”
“With words?” I shook my head slightly then compounded it by saying, “No. With her eyes, definitely.”
“Come again?”
I leaned closer to him and whispered, “She’s lost, Sam. Lost and grieving. She’s in pain. You think I’m full of shit? Everything you see of Luci is completely full of shit. She’s trying to hide it so people won’t approach her about it but she’s doing a really bad job. Obviously, I’ve known her a day so I can have no idea if it’s improved. What I can tell you is, it’s still bad. As in,” I leaned closer to him, “really bad.”
“Fuck,” he whispered back, his face betraying his concern, the fingers on both hands giving me a squeeze.
“Um… sorry,” we both heard and we both turned our heads to see a man standing beside our table, looking nervous, his eyes darting between Sam and me then finally coming to rest in a way that it looked like he wished they didn’t on Sam. “I, uh…” he went on, “don’t mean to disturb you and I know you hear this all the time but I’m a really big fan.”
Holy cow!
A Sampson Cooper fan interrupting our dinner.
Wow.
I stared up at him, fascinated.
That was to say, I stared at him fascinated until I felt the fingers on both Sam’s hands give me another squeeze, this one deeper, communicating something I wasn’t certain I got until my eyes went to him. I saw his jaw was hard and I tensed and stayed that way even when I watched his jaw relax. And I stayed tense because it seemed this took effort, like he was forcing back his reaction.
I looked back to the man as he continued talking.
“I just, I see that you’re busy and… well, I didn’t want to come over but my wife said this opportunity would never present itself again. And, you know, she said it was crazy since we live in Wisconsin but we’re here and you’re here so it’s like… fate and I should, you know, not anger fate or, uh… whatever, so I just want to say that I was a real big fan of yours when you played ball but I admire the decision you made so I also, uh… want to thank you for what you did for our country. You, I… well, my son knows all about you and you’re kind of his idol. He’s seventeen and he plays ball but he’s, you know, he’s okay at it, not great but he’s pretty good. Still, he’s going into the Army, like your brother did, like you did. He says that’s what he really wants to do and we’re real proud of him but both of us, me and my wife, we think that he made that decision because of you.” He paused then finished, “Um… that’s it, uh… I guess.”