“Do I now?” I practically float to him, drunk on the warm feelings he stirs in me.
He kisses me. Not a peck on the lips. He dives into a wanton display of affection. The man has been trying to catch up on years of not kissing. I’m not going to curb his enthusiasm.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, get a room,” Saar groans.
“Are you ready to leave?” he whispers.
I nod and hug my friends.
“This is a pleasant surprise.” I slide into Baldo’s lap as soon as we get into the back seat, and he engages the partition to give us privacy.
He kisses me again, his tongue swirling, seeking access. “I missed you.”
“You saw me this morning,” I mumble against his mouth.
“Yeah, fucking too long ago.” He traces his hand up my thigh. “I think we need to go shopping soon.”
“Whatever for?” I shiver at his touch, and at the memory of shopping the day of our wedding.
It’s like a lifetime has passed since then. Like we’re different people and yet we’re the same.
“Yeah, I hate your pants.”
“What’s wrong with my pants?”
“The lack of access to your pussy.”
I laugh. “You’re a deviant.”
“And you love it.”
I grin. “Where are we going?”
“On a date.”
In the absence of easy access to my underwear, Baldo settles for sliding his hands under my shirt and finding my nipple.
I moan. “A date?”
“Yes, I realized we’ve never had one. Ever.”
He’s not wrong. When we were younger, we could only sneak around.
And since we got married, we haven’t done much of the normal couple stuff. “We went to Mimi’s in Lisbon.”
“So we wouldn’t die from hunger. That’s not a date.”
“Dinner is a perfectly respectable date.”
“I would argue the point, but since I’m taking you out on one, I’m going to do this instead.”
He captures my lips, and we kiss like teenagers the whole way to the restaurant.
* * *
“How do you even know about this place?” I take a bite of a huge burrito, the salsa dripping onto the wrapper.
Just like in Lisbon, when Baldo took me to a small, homey family restaurant, we are at a hole in the wall with tiny tables, and the best Mexican food.