Evidence of Desire: Hero Series 3 (5 page)

He smiled and shut the car off, recalling what she was referring too. Getting out of the car, he rounded the trunk and thought back to that night during their second and final year of their marriage. One of his professors at the University of California Davis threw a dinner party for the PhD candidates and guest. Sonya had agreed to attend. During the meal the professor decided to liven the discussion going around by bringing out his collection of various larvae preserved in all stages setting them all down in the center of the table. The candidates had been awe, Sonya had gotten sick. Thankful the meal had been set up on the back porch, because Sonya barely made it to the railing to spew into a bush. They’d left immediately.

“Dr. Cantuck was a brilliant entomologist, but his social skills lacked all grace,” he commented as he opened her door.

“As far as California is from Europe his was lost.” She rose and stood before him when she got out of the car.

Keeping her trapped between him and the door, he felt her body heat through the small gap that separated them. It was mid-fall and a slight wind ruffled her hair. Unable to stop himself, he captured a flying curl and twirled it around his finger. “I promise not to bring up any insect discussions at all while we eat.”

“I prefer never, but I’ll take what I can get for now.”

When he looked at her, he noticed that her gaze was centered on his fingers playing with the strands of her hair.

Did she remember the weekend of their honeymoon? The only thing they could afford was two nights at a spa hotel. “We went swimming, the last night of our honeymoon.”

“And you brushed out my hair after I washed it.” Hazel eyes met his.

Damn, he wanted to kiss her. “Your curls were pure madness. As soon as I comb one section, it would just curl back up as if I hadn’t even touched it.”

“My hair can be chore a times. The texture maybe soft, but it tangles up too easy.” Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his and slowly slipped the coil from his grasp.

He took a step back, if he didn’t he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “We should get in to get a table. It looks crowded.”

“It usually is, but I’ve never waited more than a few minutes.”

Sonya’s estimation was accurate. They only had a ten-minute wait before they were shown to a table for two. It had a chair across from a seat on the bench that ran along the back wall.

“I’m Lacey your server. Can I start you all off with a beverage?”

They both ordered sweet tea as the woman placed menus before them and departed.

“I see you’ve jumped into the down south sweet tea crazy.” Sonya teased, as she picked up her menu.

“It’s addicting. Even in Virginia we usually get unsweetened tea and have to play the pour and stir game with sugar to get the drink just right.”

“Only to have the waiter add more tea when the glass is half empty and have to start all over again.”

They both laughed.

“Yes.” He shook his head. “Annoying. Just easier to order a soda or alcohol.” Looking over the food items, he saw a few things that he liked, but couldn’t decide. “What do you suggest?”

“I’m going with the Salmon Benedict. However, if you have already eaten breakfast...”

“I haven’t.”

“I’d recommend their fried chicken.” She reached over and tapped his menu with a slender finger.

He saw the chicken section she pointed at, but was more focused on her neat trimmed nail. It had a shine to it like it maybe had some kind of clear polish but that was it. Sonya was like her short undecorated nail to most people who didn’t know her. She always appeared controlled and focused to the world, but he knew she could be just like her green colored toes—wild and free.

“Then I’m going with a quarter south,” he decided on the leg and thigh piece of chicken with a cornbread muffin and side.

The server returned with their drinks and took their order. “I’ll get your food in and it should be ready shortly. Let me know if you need anything.” Swiping the menus, Lacey was off to another table.

“What you’ve been up to in the past few years?”

Sonya held her hands up beside her body. “What you see is what you get. Work at one museum or another.”

“How did you end up in Charlotte from DC? The Smithsonian was your dream job.”

“You remember that?”

“I haven’t forgotten anything about you or us.”

Licking her lips, she picked up her drink and sipped through the straw. She placed it back. “The Fredrick Douglas Museum of African Art was an amazing experience. I would have loved to stay, but it was difficult to move up. The director that was there at the time is still there. When Charlotte opened up their department, I applied and got it.”

“You like living here?”

“Love it. I enjoyed the diversity on a larger scale in the Tri-state but it’s still nice.”

He tasted his tea. “Wow, that’s good. I’m just going to get an IV bag and have it pumped directly into my veins all day long,” he joked setting the glass back down.

“Join the club.” She raised her glass and drank more.

“With them opening the new National Museum of African American History and Culture Smithsonian have you thought about leaving here? I’m sure there will be greater opportunities there.” That had been a fear of his as he’d waited on a response to his resume for the entomology director when he heard about the facility being near completion over a year back and them starting to appoint and hire the various positions.

She was silent for a moment as she slipped her fingers through the moisture on the side of her glass. “Honestly, I thought about it. But, I didn’t put in for it. I know as amazing as all this is the Smithsonian is better. However, I’ve made a name for myself here. I’ve made headway and I’m already a director of my own department. I like my life.”

He wondered if that life included a man.
Last night when he located her had she been waiting for someone one else, not just taking a break?
He wanted to ask her what the story between her and the Councilman was, except he didn’t have the right. As she’d said, she had a life here, without him in it. That knowledge stung.

“I’m sure you don’t miss the winters either.”

Shaking her head she laughed. “On, no, I don’t. The ones here, even the bad ones are mild in comparison.”

“Do you recall our sophomore year and being snowed in on campus for a week? I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“The continuous snow fall caused a blackout for two days. I think I understood the term cabin fever real well then.” She shivered as if she felt the intense cold of those weeks.

“When Sigmas’ went out and started a snowball fight right in the middle of the yard. Taunting everyone to come out and join in. And we did.”

Her face light up with joy. “It ended up being so much fun. I think that fight went on for three days.” She sighed. “There are days that I do miss the simplicity of college. It was an easier time, studying and friendship. Only two things that mattered.”

He leaned back in his seat and just stared at her. “We shared our first kiss in the middle of that first fight.”

The radiance in her face became clouded, but her eyes darkened with another emotion as she held his gaze. “A few students caught me in a corner and were pummeling me with snowballs. All of a sudden it all stopped. When I opened my eyes to see what was happening with the attack I discovered you had stepped in front of me with you coat open. You were shielding me, taking hit after hit on your back.”

It was her squeals of laughter that he’d heard. When he saw her, she was pinned in and getting pelted relentlessly. He’d arrived snowballs blazing until he was able to protect his new girlfriend.

“They finally stopped.”

Both her hands were wrapped around her glass as she leaned forward, still looking at him. “Then you kissed me.”

Like he wanted to do now. The intensity between them, was like a magnet, a strong pull he was always powerless to resist when he was close to her. “It was all that snow on you, dusting your lashes, hair, and cheeks and even caught in the corner of your mouth. You looked like a freed snow angel. I wanted a taste of heaven, on earth.”

Moving in, he set one forearm along the edge of his side of the table. “Tell, me, Soni-love, how did my kiss last night compare?”

Her pupils dilated and lips parted as she drew in a soft breath.

Damn, she was sexy. Even with all the chatter around them it didn’t distract his desire for her.

“It—”

“Here we go. One Salmon Benedict,” the server’s cheery voice interrupted the moment as she set a plate before her.

Sonya released her glass and sat back in her chair, lowering her gaze.

The spell was broken. He moved out of the way for his food.

“And one Quarter South.” Lacey lowered his plate before him. “I’ll get you all some refills on your drinks. Anything else besides that I can get you two?”

“No. We’re fine.” Parker offered her a smile, even though he wanted to strangle the waitress for barging in on the moment that was lost now. “Thank you.”

In the few moments the server was gone, Parker placed the napkin in his lap. “Would you like to bless the food?”

Her chin shot up and her eyes stretched wide, showing her surprise.

“Yes. I remember.” He stretched forth an open hand and placed it on the table. “You always liked us to pray together before meals and before we went to sleep.” Religion hadn’t been a part of his upbringing, besides and occasional ‘Oh, Lord.’ Or ‘God bless you’ after someone sneezed.

But, Sonya had always had a little more faith than him, and he’d adopted some of her ways.

“Sure, I can.” She slipped her hand into his awaiting one, then lowered her chin and gave a short prayer. When it ended, she lifted her head and met his gaze with a small smile of thanks.

He gave her hand a light squeeze before he released it. Only in the south, did people prayer publicly and no one gave them strange glances.

Lifting the drumstick from his plate, he bit into it.

“What do you think?” She held her fork poised to dig into her hollandaise covered salmon.

After he swallowed the bite, he nodded. “Very good. I’m considering placing an order for a few to go.”

“You still can’t cook?” She teased, lifting a forkful to her mouth.

“Nope.”

“How have you been surviving all these years?” she questioned. “I can see you haven’t had a lack of food. Or at least protein with all those muscles.”

Pausing before taking his next bite, he was shocked that Sonya would make a personal comment about him that didn’t have to do with school or work. “You’ve been looking at my body?” he teased, winking at her.

There was a red tint the bloomed on her cheeks. Hastily, she picked up her glass, bumping it and almost knocked it over, but she caught it before any sloshed out.

“It was an observation. Like seeing the Thinking Man statue or the sculpture of David.” She lifted it to gulp down a swallow.

“Ah…” he nodded. “Strictly an art lovers opinion.”

Her glass thumped when it returned to the table. “Exactly.”

“You are a curator so it makes sense.” He let her off the hook with a wide grin.

She got his message and rolled her eyes before continuing to eat.

“To answer your question, microwave meals have come a long way. The meals actually taste like food instead of cardboard. When I was in Australia, I eat what the tribesmen ate or stocked items that were travel size non-perishables.”

“You were in Australia?”

“Yes, for two years after I finished my PhD I went to study insects of the Daintree Rainforest.”

“Oh, my. That sounds interesting. Well, except for the insect part.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

“The Rainforest is covered with all types of amazing insects, reptiles and animals.” He picked up his fork and ate his mashed potatoes with butter and green beans. “I had a chance to see insects that I would never be able to study anywhere else.”

“I’m sure it was like heaven to you?”

Having you in my life was heaven.
He kept that thought to himself. “It was a grand experience.”

“Where did you live? Are there cities there or towns?” Her attention was fixed on him.

“Some on the outskirts. However, with all of the protesting and activist lobbying against killing of the Rainforests, a lot of construction has stopped.” Those were charities he gave substantial amounts to, because it would be devastating on multiple levels if the Rainforests were destroyed more than they had been. “While there, I wanted to be a part of the indigenous environment so I lived in a rattan.”

“A what?” she frowned.

“It is a sort of a cabin-like structure that is made from fallen branches and veins in the forest. It isn’t large at all. More like a one room place with lots of mosquito netting.”

“Mosquitos. I can just imagine the size of them.” She resumed eating. “They carry all kinds of deadly diseases…did you get sick while you were there?”

His gaze rose from his plate and met hers, held it. “Right before I left there. When I got better, I knew it was time to go.”