Page 300 of Love Bites

We rolled forward slowly, then he parked and killed the engine.

“Can I look now?” Curiosity had me sitting forward. I fingered the satin mask and hoped my mascara and eyeliner hadn’t smeared. I doubted Wolfgang would find me so attractive when I looked like Beetlejuice’s twin sister.

“Not yet.”

His door clicked shut. I waited, trying to rally some enthusiasm so I could appear as excited as I should be.

I heard my door open.

“Okay, darling, just a little further.” His palm warmed my upper arm as he helped me out of the car.

The slam of my door echoed, like we were inside a building. Yet gravel crunched under my shoes as I stepped away from the car. I opened my mouth to ask where we were and the ground under my feet turned soft and lumpy—grass.

“Hold on a second,” he said, and let me go. In the midst of a ruckus of caws from a murder of nearby crows, I heard a creak and then a thump behind me. What was that? Some kind of door? Then Wolfgang was back, leading me along the grass.

“Three steps up.” He saved me from falling on my face when my toe collided with the last step. “You okay?”

“I think so.” Although, I’d heard a rip from somewhere south of my neck, and that couldn’t be good, especially since the red undies that matched my dress were still at home in the dirty clothes hamper. My heels clomped across a wood floor.

He had me pause for a second, then said, “One more small step here.”

I obeyed, and my soles came down on something smoother than the wood I’d been walking on. The aroma of roasted chicken enticed me along as the crow caws became muffled. My stomach gurgled awake, curious as well, now.

Wolfgang led me across what felt like linoleum underfoot. The melodic sound of a piano accompanied by various stringed instruments grew louder as we walked. I didn’t recognize the tune. My mother must not be a groupie for the composer.

We turned right twice and then stopped.

“Here we are.” Wolfgang lifted off my satin mask.

I blinked in the flickering light. My mouth gaped after my eyes finally focused. Surrounded by what must have been fifty candles, we stood in the breakfast nook in Wolfgang’s house—the place where we’d first had lunch together weeks ago.

“Surprised?”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I had to rummage around for my tongue. “Uh, huh.”

I peeked at the ceiling. A bit freaked out, too, in spite of the calming music. If I heard one thump overhead tonight, I’d be donning my Speedy Gonzales shoes and disappearing in a cloud of dust.

Wolfgang pulled out a chair for me. I lowered into it, pretending to tuck under my dress while checking the seams for a tear. I found the hole mid-hip, no bigger than my fingertip. My shoulder blades loosened. I didn’t relish Wolfgang seeing London, France, and my mint-green underpants.

The feel of Wolfgang’s lips brushing my shoulder cinched me right back up.

“I’ll be back with some wine and appetizers,” he whispered in my ear and then dashed out of the room.

I’d barely had time to admire the pattern on the china place settings and scan the room for any clown paraphernalia before he returned with a narrow tray of toasted baguette slices topped with bruschetta. The tiny tomato and mozzarella chunks made my mouth water.

“Did you make these?” I asked as I scooped up one and shoved it in my mouth. I’d expected a heavy garlic hit. Instead, the fresh tomato and basil cleansed my palette and made my tongue waggle for more.

“Yes.” Wolfgang placed a glass of white wine in front of me and then eased into the opposite seat. “I took a cooking class last summer.”

A classy dresserandhandy in the kitchen. I chomped down another slice. Why couldn’t his kisses leave me pining as much as his cooking?

He sipped his wine. “The candlelight makes your hair look like golden threads.”

I swallowed a mouthful of tomatoes, wishing we were in a loud, public restaurant so I could find something to distract me from the lack of magic in this moment. “Umm, thanks.”

He just stared into my eyes.

I fidgeted with my silver spoon, searching for a diversion. “We need to talk about your house.”

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