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Authors: Julia P. Lynde

BOOK: Bidding War
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"Would you lie about it?"

"No. And I wouldn't lie to Bonnie if she asked me. But she never does.
You're the first woman I've kissed. Bonnie has tried, and once she managed to get a peck in before I pulled away, but I didn't kiss her back, and it wasn't a real kiss. So it doesn't count."

"Why do you put up with it?"

"It's flattering. I know if I let her, she'd have my clothes off in about three seconds. But every time I've told her to knock it off, she has, immediately. She's a good person, and I like having her in my life. It's just a game to her, and to me as well, I guess." I paused. "Do you think I should ask her to stop?"

"Are you sure it's just a game to her? Maybe she has a crush on you. Maybe that's why she never gets serious with anyone else."

The train took that opportunity to arrive, sparing me the need to answer immediately. We climbed on board. The car was nearly empty, and we took two seats, side-by-side. I leaned against Moira for a moment, then pulled away and looked at her.

"Do you think so?" I asked.

"I don't know her very well. Really, I know of her more than know her."

"She told me she has wanted dates with you. You could have an easy lay."

Moira didn't respond right away, but her expression clouded. Finally she said, "Do you think that's what I want?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "When it comes to dating, I don't know what you want. You haven't been treating me that way."

"Your friend deserves more respect than that as well."

"Those were her words. Not about you, but in the past."

"She can say that about herself," Moira said. "But I don't want to hear you say anything like that again."

I looked at the floor. For some reason, disappointing her made me very sad. "I'm sorry, Moira."

She reached over with her hand and turned me back to face her. "Forgiven. Moving on. Smile."

I smiled, but it was weak.

"You are very beautiful, Pamela," she said. "You are brilliant and funny. And we fit. You are the one I want."

Then I gave her a big smile. She returned it and said, "There. Better."

"I need to talk to her, don't I?"

"Yes. Before our last date."

"Nothing that happens during that conversation is going to change anything about us. If she has a crush, I'll have to let her down."

"I want it resolved, Pamela. Before our third date."

"I'll invite her for dinner this week."

She nodded.

I rotated back towards the front and slid back next to her and laid my head on Moira's shoulder. We sat quietly for a few minutes before I said, "You just showed me a new side to you."

"I know.
It was deliberate. Was it a problem?"

"No."

She took my hand and began tracing patterns on my palm. We didn't say anything else until we arrived at our stop. As we pulled into the station, she said, "We're here."

We climbed out of our seats and exited the train. Moira fished through her purse and found her phone. "Hey, Andi," she said. "We're at your station." Pause. "Yes." Pause. "Thank you, Andi." She hung up and turned to me. "Ten minutes."

"Whatever will we do?"

I took both her hands and backed up against a pillar, pulling her after me and setting her hands on my hips before wrapping mine around her neck.

"It's a shame you're so shy," she told me.

"Kiss me. Now."

She laughed and obeyed. I parted slightly for her, and her tongue flicked out a few times to caress my lips. When she didn't accept the full invitation, I tried to invade her mouth, but she didn't allow me to. When she broke the kiss, she looked into my eyes. "Behave now."

Then she took my arm and pulled me down the stairs and out to the sidewalk next to the street.
Andi pulled up a couple of minutes later and we climbed into her car.

* * *

Ninety minutes later, Andi dropped us off at a restaurant. I had no idea where we were. "David and I will join you later for dancing," she said. "Do you want to change clothes before flying home?" Then she grinned. "Or maybe we should drop you off at a hotel."

Moira grinned. "Maybe next trip. Yes, changing clothes would be good."

"See you in a few hours," Andi told us as we climbed out of the car.

Moira grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the front door of the restaurant. It was an attractive building of timber and brick, promising an excellent meal. When we got inside, I looked around and saw that everyone was dressed at least as well as we were. The restaurant was partitioned with only a few tables in a particular area, offering quiet and a level of privacy for the diners. There was a reservation waiting for us, and we were led to a quiet table for two in a small room with four tables total. There were two couples sitting together at one of the tables. The other two tables were waiting for their guests to arrive.

The waitress came by immediately, filling water glasses and asking for our drink order. I asked for a glass of red. Moira ordered a diet soda. When I raised an eyebrow she said, "I can't fly for eight hours after drinking."

I turned to the waitress and immediately changed my order to a diet soda. Once she left, Moira said, "You could have had wine."

I just shook my head.

Our drinks came and we looked through the menu. I ordered the salmon. Moira ordered lamb. I planned on stealing from her plate. Then Moira said, "Pamela, tell me three things you've always wanted to do, but haven't done."

"All right," I said. "I mentioned this one to Gwendolyn. Learn to SCUBA dive."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"What else?"

"I don't know if this counts. I've done a little travel, but not very much. I'd like to do more."

"Where?"

"Well, if I learned to SCUBA dive first..."

She laughed. "Australia?"

"Yes. And New Zealand." I paused. "Europe."

"Anywhere in particular in Europe?"

"Paris for the sidewalk cafes and museums. London for theater. Little seaside towns in Italy for the ambiance. Athens for the Parthenon."

"Good list," she said. "Third one?"

"Not counting learning to fly?"

She laughed. "Right. Not counting that."

"And not counting sexual fantasies?"

She laughed again. "Tease. I think those are a separate topic."

I grinned at her. "So you don't want to hear about my wild furry weasel fetish?"

"Weasel?"

"Sure. They're, you know. Furry. And they have those little feet that tickle you when they run across your belly."

"Stop it." She took a drink from her soda.

"I know, I'm sorry. You prefer beavers."

She almost snorted her soda across the table. When she stopped coughing, she glared at me. "That wasn't funny."

"Oh, it was most definitely funny. Tacky, too. Very tacky."

"I'll agree with you on that."

"You realize I'm trying to stall while I think of a third one worth mentioning. I have little ones, but no big ones yet."

"Tell me a little one, then I'll tell you my list."

"All right," I said. "I've never baked a cake from scratch. I was at a friend's wedding a couple of years ago, and they had these little cakes that were to die for. Exceedingly light, and if I can't do at least half that good, I'm not sure I'm interested."

"Maybe that's something we could do together," she said, smiling.

"I'd like that."

"Do you have more?"

"I've had things I've thought about. I've never been camping, or caught a fish, or been skiing. Or driven a sailboat."

She smiled. "Then you need to hear my list." I nodded. "I want to take a back country camping trip in Alaska. It would need to be guided, and I'd want someone along who could enjoy it."

I thought about it. "I'd do that."

She smiled broadly. "I want to get my flight instructor license."

"Is that new since meeting me?"

"No. It's been on my list. But I admit you offer extra incentive."

"How hard would it be for you?"

"I don't think too hard. I would need to get a commercial license first. Basically that involves flying to professional standards, which I already do. I don't know what the CFI would take."

"CFI?"

"Certified Flight Instructor."

"If you got your... CFI?" She nodded. "If you got your CFI, then you could legally teach me?"

She nodded.

"I like that one," I told her.

"I thought you might." She paused. "And I want to get a license to captain a sailboat."

I laughed. "Really?" She nodded. "It takes a license?"

"For some things, like taking paying passengers. For me the license would just indicate a level of professionalism. I could go out and buy a sailboat tomorrow and sail it all I want, but if I were going to sail on the ocean, I'd want a proper education."

"Like, around the world?"

"No. More like around the Virgin Islands."

"Oh." I thought about it. "We could do that together, too." I paused. "Although maybe you wouldn't want me distracting you during class."

"Doing it together would be a blast," she told me.

"Would you take SCUBA lessons with me?"

"I would love to. I love the water. I go snorkling on vacation and I've thought about SCUBA, but I've just never done anything about it."

We grinned at each other for a while. "We really fit," I said.

"Yes, we do. Have you thought of your third?"

"I've had one all along," I said quietly, "but I didn't want to tell you."

She looked sad. "Why not?"

"Because it's kind of needy, and it might sound like I'm sucking up."

"Oh honey. Tell me. Please."

"I want to be in a relationship with someone who knows how to dance properly."

"Define 'properly'."

"Someone who has taken real dance lessons. A lot of them. Someone who can listen to a piece of music and knows what style to dance to the music being played. Someone who knows what ballroom position is. Maybe even someone who knows what close embrace is."

"Close embrace?"

I nodded.

"Perhaps someone who knows what an ocho cortado is?"

I stared at her and said quietly, "Yes."

"Where did you learn to tango?"

"College. There were two girls from Argentina. They taught me a little. I would have really gotten into it, but it was so weird dancing that close to another woman." I paused. "Every time we danced, it felt like they were inviting me to a threesome."

She laughed.

"I'm serious. They were a couple." I paused. "None of my boyfriends would even go swing dancing with me. Not a single one would consider a dance lesson. Their idea of dancing was to wriggle at me. They thought it was a come on or something. I hated it."

Moira smiled.

"You tango?"

She nodded.

"Can you lead?"

She nodded.

"You're taking me dancing tonight?"

She nodded.

"What style?"

"You'll find out," she said.

"Is it tango?"

"No more questions."

"One more. Will I have to lead?"

"Only if you want to. Or if you dance with Andi. Andi doesn't lead. Well, not on the dance floor. In the rest of her life, she is totally in charge." She paused. "Can you lead?"

"Not tango. Swing. Waltz. Blues, although I don't know that many steps to lead. I suppose I could lead a foxtrot, but who wants to foxtrot if you could swing instead?"

She laughed.

"I can't lead Charleston. I can barely follow it."

She smiled. "I like to lead."

"Good."

* * *

We took a cab to the dance hall. While we were in the cab, I tried to get Moira to tell me more about what style of dance we would be doing.

"Stop asking questions," she ordered.

"I can't help it. Curious cat and all that. Give me a hint. You know, so I can be in the right mood."

"If it takes more than one song to get in the right mood, then you suck as a dancer."

"Hey! I don't suck. Well, not while dancing."

"Tease."

"Look who is talking, Ms. Mysterious."

"If you ask any more questions, I won't stroke your arms again tonight." She was stroking my arm as she said it, and the last thing I wanted was for her to stop.

I pouted briefly, then leaned against her and closed my eyes. "You may have your way with me if you keep doing that."

She laughed softly. "Tonight just dancing, then a flight home, and then, maybe, a little make out session on your sofa. If you aren't too tired."

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