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Authors: C. B. Stanton
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mornin’,” he said as he acknowledged her, nodded, and moved toward Lynette. He bent forward and kissed Lynette softly, ever so softly, on the cheek.
“Good morning,” he said, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. “Thought we’d have some chicken and fixins before we head out. I knew we couldn’t do it all in time, so that’s why I stayed here to get the meat started. Hope you don’t mind?” he asked Lynette.
“Not at all. I wish you hadn’t gone to so much trouble for us,” she replied. “Sandwiches, anything, would have been fine. We’re just delighted to be out here and what a wonderful place this is,” she added.
“Clare, how about helpin’ with the stuff in the kitchen if you don’t mind,” Aaron asked, and she immediately agreed, following him back through the doorway.
“I think he doesn’t want to share Clare too much if he can help it. Besides, just you and me out here – this is nice,” Blaze added with a twinkle in his eye.
Lynette watched him maneuver the meat around on the scorching grill, splash some thin, unknown sauce on the chickens, then close the cover again. The smoke swirled and blew away in the light breeze. He walked over to her and stood in front of her as if to kiss her. Do it! Show him you want to kiss him, she was saying to herself. Let him kiss you , her body said. Instead, she reached up and with the tips of her fingers, softly touched his lips. She held her fingers there for a second as his eyes bored into hers. His eyes were lighter than she had remembered. Not quite hazel and not quite as dark brown as hers. He opened his mouth ever so slightly so that her finger tips curled just lightly on his bottom lip. He moved the tip of his tongue across the very tips of her fingers. How perfect his mouth was, she thought. How good it would feel on her mouth. How wonderful they would feel anywhere on her body. But they did not kiss. He was reading her, knowing her thoughts, letting her explore this entrance to his body; offering her inexplicable intimacy. Again, just touching him, she was embarrassingly aroused. If this was not someone else’s house; if there were no other people here to invade their privacy, the chicken would have to burn.
“How much longer till the meat’s ready?’ Aaron hollered from the kitchen.
“It’s really ready now,” he replied, and he looked at Lynette knowing that he was telling her what he needed to say, in a way he hoped was not offensive – but honest. She thrilled at the double entendre, lifted her chin and drew in a deep breath without ever loosing contact with his eyes. He knew that she knew what he meant. He rubbed both hands down the sides of his apron removing any grease. That action pulled the apron tight across the front of his body. She could not ignore the distorted shape under the cloth.
Brunch was fabulous. Barbecued chicken, pinto beans, fresh green tossed salad, corn tortilla chips with salsa, and unsweetened tea. It was interesting that there was not a lot of starch but before either of the women could ask, Aaron answered their question.
“We eat a little differently here at home; a little lighter. I have to watch the carbohydrates and sugars with my diabetes,” he admitted. “I heard you say, Lynette, that you used to have some minor health issues with your knee. You know as we get older, things start acting up.”
“You can say that again,” Lynette responded. “My knee problem was caused by an old football injury,” she added, and waited for the usual response.
“A what?” Blaze queried looking absolutely astonished.
“Now, this isn’t gonna be another of your tall Texas tales, is it,” Aaron asked, frowning.
“No, it’s true. I tore my knee up pretty badly when I was in 8 th grade. We had asphalt playgrounds, and the boys and girls played together. A classmate stuck his foot out as I was running full force with the
“Good morning,” he said, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. “Thought we’d have some chicken and fixins before we head out. I knew we couldn’t do it all in time, so that’s why I stayed here to get the meat started. Hope you don’t mind?” he asked Lynette.
“Not at all. I wish you hadn’t gone to so much trouble for us,” she replied. “Sandwiches, anything, would have been fine. We’re just delighted to be out here and what a wonderful place this is,” she added.
“Clare, how about helpin’ with the stuff in the kitchen if you don’t mind,” Aaron asked, and she immediately agreed, following him back through the doorway.
“I think he doesn’t want to share Clare too much if he can help it. Besides, just you and me out here – this is nice,” Blaze added with a twinkle in his eye.
Lynette watched him maneuver the meat around on the scorching grill, splash some thin, unknown sauce on the chickens, then close the cover again. The smoke swirled and blew away in the light breeze. He walked over to her and stood in front of her as if to kiss her. Do it! Show him you want to kiss him, she was saying to herself. Let him kiss you , her body said. Instead, she reached up and with the tips of her fingers, softly touched his lips. She held her fingers there for a second as his eyes bored into hers. His eyes were lighter than she had remembered. Not quite hazel and not quite as dark brown as hers. He opened his mouth ever so slightly so that her finger tips curled just lightly on his bottom lip. He moved the tip of his tongue across the very tips of her fingers. How perfect his mouth was, she thought. How good it would feel on her mouth. How wonderful they would feel anywhere on her body. But they did not kiss. He was reading her, knowing her thoughts, letting her explore this entrance to his body; offering her inexplicable intimacy. Again, just touching him, she was embarrassingly aroused. If this was not someone else’s house; if there were no other people here to invade their privacy, the chicken would have to burn.
“How much longer till the meat’s ready?’ Aaron hollered from the kitchen.
“It’s really ready now,” he replied, and he looked at Lynette knowing that he was telling her what he needed to say, in a way he hoped was not offensive – but honest. She thrilled at the double entendre, lifted her chin and drew in a deep breath without ever loosing contact with his eyes. He knew that she knew what he meant. He rubbed both hands down the sides of his apron removing any grease. That action pulled the apron tight across the front of his body. She could not ignore the distorted shape under the cloth.
Brunch was fabulous. Barbecued chicken, pinto beans, fresh green tossed salad, corn tortilla chips with salsa, and unsweetened tea. It was interesting that there was not a lot of starch but before either of the women could ask, Aaron answered their question.
“We eat a little differently here at home; a little lighter. I have to watch the carbohydrates and sugars with my diabetes,” he admitted. “I heard you say, Lynette, that you used to have some minor health issues with your knee. You know as we get older, things start acting up.”
“You can say that again,” Lynette responded. “My knee problem was caused by an old football injury,” she added, and waited for the usual response.
“A what?” Blaze queried looking absolutely astonished.
“Now, this isn’t gonna be another of your tall Texas tales, is it,” Aaron asked, frowning.
“No, it’s true. I tore my knee up pretty badly when I was in 8 th grade. We had asphalt playgrounds, and the boys and girls played together. A classmate stuck his foot out as I was running full force with the
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