Matchmaker 08: August

We'd had dinner in Asheville that night, and over our Italian dishes, Meadow had shown me several more signs. It was so easy to forget she was deaf. When she looked at me, her confusion evident, during the carriage ride through the grounds, I'd realized she wasn't hearing enough of the driver's patter to follow what he was saying, so I'd begun silently repeating what the driver said so she wouldn't be left out, touching her when he started speaking so she could 'listen' to him through me. I didn't mind at all as it gave me an excuse to touch her.

I hadn't been kidding when I told her that her voice was sexy. I liked how she almost whispered, forcing me to listen closely, as if she was always sharing a secret with me. Add to that, she had a slight slur on her soft C's and S's, and the rest of her pronunciation was off just enough to make her sound... exotic was the best word I could think of to describe it. She wasn't difficult to understand, but there was something about her speech pattern that made me want to sit and listen to her speak for hours.

When we'd returned to the house, we'd settled onto the deck and watched the light fade as the city below us began to blaze with light. We sipped our adult beverages, mine one of the beers left from our meal the previous night, and hers from the bottle of wine we'd picked up at the Biltmore vineyard gift shop. The weather was perfect, so different than the heat of an Albuquerque summer.

I softly kissed her on her shoulder as I sighed, sleep pulling at me again. I hadn't wanted to spoil the view by turning on a light so she could see my lips, so as the night air cooled and the hour became late, we sat in companionable silence. I smiled as I remembered the butterflies swarming in my stomach as I touched her gently on the arm and held my hand out to her. She took it and I pulled her into my arms. She didn't resist, and I lowered my lips to hers, pausing a hairsbreadth from hers to give her a chance to turn away. She hadn't, and I'd taken her lips for my own.

She'd melted into my arms, and there was no way she couldn't feel my hardness between us, but she didn't seem to object to that either. We slowly disengaged from the kiss as I'd smiled down at her. Her back was to the house, so there was just enough light cast on my face for her to see me. I want you, I mouthed, and had been rewarded with a smile.

"I want you too," she replied.

My heart had leapt with joy before the dread had set in. I'd been so long without a woman, almost two years, I worried that my first impression wouldn't be a good one. Despite my worry, I'd taken her lips in another slow, gentle kiss, before I'd taken her hand and slowly towed her to my bedroom.

I'd been right to be worried. Despite thinking about baseball, my business, and even the death of my dog years ago, I'd gone off like an eighteen-year-old virgin. I'd burned in embarrassment, but she'd taken it with good humor and allowed me a chance to redeem myself. We'd made love three times before we slept, and I was satisfied that despite me being gone in sixty seconds the first time, I'd left her fulfilled.

I kissed her on the shoulder and neck, my desire for her swelling, along with other parts of me. She was so incredibly beautiful she nearly took my breath. But there was more than that. She was strong, unbelievably strong. Despite her—I didn't want to use the word handicap because she was anything but—condition, she'd risen to the head of one of the largest pet food companies in the country. If only—in my mind I heard the ripping screech of a phonograph needle dragging across a record.

No! I raged at myself. You're not going there! Not now, not ever again! That's behind you! She made her choice! You have a chance to be happy! Don't be an asshole and fuck it up!

I shoved the thoughts aside. That chapter was behind me, with a new one opening in front of me, and I didn't want to fuck it up. Meadow moved, stretching and groaning. I found it interesting that even though she couldn't hear, she still made all the unconscious noises people made, such as groaning when stretching, and my favorite, soft sighs as we made love.

"Good morning," I murmured, even though I knew she wouldn't hear.

She rolled over and smiled up at me. Good morning, she signed.

I smiled and signed it back. Her smile spread and her lips begged to be kissed. I took them in a leisurely caress, sighing as I slowly pulled back. There was something inherently erotic about doing most of our communication while being intimate with looks, gestures, and touches, instead of words.

I caressed her face as I held her gaze, falling into the infinite depths of her eyes. Her smile softened as she touched my lips with a finger. I kissed her again, more passionately than before, and I felt her respond. I began kissing down her body, losing myself in the moment, thinking only of her, my past, at least momentarily, forgotten.

We strolled, hand in hand, along the streets of downtown Asheville, wandering in and out of shops Meadow found interesting. Shopping for trinkets was near the bottom of my list of things I wanted to do, but Meadow was clearly enjoying herself, and that made the time well spent. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for shopping, I had to admit there were some amazing items on display, from quilts to hand-blown glass to jewelry, all created by local artists. She didn't buy anything and seemed content to simply browse, occasionally holding something up for me to see if she found it particularly interesting.

After lunch at a local barbecue, the tangy, vinegary sauce so unlike any barbecue Meadow or I had tried before, we'd continued our wandering, going nowhere and in no hurry to get there. Asheville might be in the mountains, but it was still warm, and I tugged her to something that interested me, an ice-cream shop.

"What flavor?" I asked as I pulled out my wallet.

She carefully looked over the available selection and then pointed. "May I sample that?"

The girl behind the counter smiled. "Pralines and Pecans is one of our best sellers," she said as she dipped a tiny amount onto a disposable wooden spoon.

Meadow's eyes opened slightly wider as the treat disappeared between her lips. "Oh, yes, I can see why. A scoop, no, make it two scoops of that, on a waffle cone."

The girl smiled. "For you, sir?"

"I'll have a strawberry milkshake."

Meadow started to pull out her wallet, but I placed my hand on hers. "My treat."

"But that's not how—"

"My treat," I repeated, adding a smile so she'd know I wasn't upset since she couldn't hear my tone.

She hesitated and pulled her hand out of her purse. "Okay, if you insist."

"I do."

I paid, we took our treats, and settled at one of the umbrella-covered outdoor tables. I watched her nibble and lick at her cone until she met my eyes. Even though there was a family of four, two of them small children, sitting right next to us I grinned. You're turning me on with the way you're eating that ice cream.

She smiled as her licks suddenly became much slower and more seductive. I'd mouthed the words just to tease her, but her sudden change in demeanor caused a hardening in my pants. I snickered. I'd just been one upped and she knew it, her eyes dancing as she watched my face.

She offered me a taste of her cone. I tried to do to her what she'd done to me, slowly licking the side of the cone before curling my tongue deep into the frozen desert and pulled off a healthy bite, but all I succeeded in doing was giving myself a brain-freeze. As my face crinkled, I held the palm of my hand to my forehead as I waited for the pain to dissipate while Meadow's musical laughter rang in my ears. As the ache faded, I grinned at her, slightly embarrassed that my attempt at seduction had the opposite effect.

She held her hands up, fingers curled with thumbs pointed at each other, and made a motion that reminded me of female body, and then laughed again as she took her cone back from me. I tried to work out what the sign meant but failed. She could tell I didn't get it and made a smoochy at me.

The family sitting beside us left as I was finishing the last of my milkshake and the last bit of her cone disappeared into her mouth. She wiped her lips and made the sign again. "Sexy," she said.

Now that I knew what the sign was, it was obvious. I had it right, the sign was probably a stylized shape of a female body, but I hadn't put two and two together.

"Yeah," I said with a rueful grin.

She snickered. "I thought so. I saw you make a face like that a couple of times last night... and once this morning."

I warmed, both in embarrassment and memory. At least now I knew what my 'O' face looked like. "It's because you're so damned," I began, finishing with the sign. I'd remember that one. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" she asked, her face the picture of innocence.

She was playing me, and I smirked. "For whatever you want."

She took a long, obvious look around us before bringing her gaze back to. "Too many people around," she said, never cracking a smile.

I tried, I really did, but I couldn't stop my snicker, causing her to grin in response. I made the sign I'd just learned.

She made a fist and quickly rocked it up and down at the wrist, like a nodding of her head, in agreement. I took her arm and pulled her in, giving her a quick, public smooch, before sliding my hand down her arm and taking her hand again.

"Shall we?"

She bounced her fist again as she followed me away from the table.

We spent another couple of hours wandering around, popping in and out of shops, before we returned to the glassblower's shop we'd visited before stopping for ice cream. Meadow picked up a clear half-globe that had a brightly colored glass jellyfish swimming over a glass sea bottom. She'd admired the item the first time we'd stopped in, and though I knew nothing about glassblowing, it should be obvious to anyone that it took amazing skill to craft something like that, and it was reflected in the price.

She admired the piece again before obviously making a decision. She carried the item to the register where she paid for her purchase, the clerk carefully packaging the item in a padded box.

"For my desk," she said as we turned for the door, her jellyfish in a small bag.

I took her package, carrying it in one hand while holding her hand in the other. We made our way back to the Ford. I touched her hand for her attention. "Eat in or out?"

She quirked her lips to the side as she thought. "I don't want you to feel like you have to cook all the time, so—"

"In it is, then."

She smiled. "You're sure?"

"Positive. We still have some hamburger left over, so it's going to be taco Tuesday."

"Indian Tacos?"

"Regular this time, for variety, and so I can save room for dessert."

We drove home, talking about whatever subject came to mind. As I browned and seasoned the hamburger, she leaned against a cabinet, watching me.

"What are you planning for dessert?"

I smiled at her. I'd been waiting, and hoping, she'd ask. "Something that's soft, warm, pleasing to the lips and tongue, and smells terrific." I liked how she watched me.

"What would that be?" she asked when I didn't continue.

"Sopapillas. Remember, I bought some at the store the other day?"

"What? Soap?"

"Sopapillas," I said more slowly.

She shook my head again. "I can't get it. Can you write it down?"

I searched the kitchen until I found a pen and paper and wrote the word down, adding a phonetic spelling so she'd know how it sounded. She tried the word out, and it was pretty close.

"Perfect," I said as I pulled the frozen desserts from the freezer so she could see.

She trilled out her musical laugh. "You had me going there for a minute."

"What did you think I meant?" I asked, struggling to keep my face neutral.

"Oh, nothing."

I waited a pair of heart beats before returning the package to the freezer and turning to face her. "Or maybe I'll cover you in honey and have you for dessert."

I liked how her eyes widened. I held her gaze until she smiled. "Maybe we should have dessert first?"

"Maybe. Something to whet our appetite?"

She swallowed hard and smiled before making the curvy woman sign again. She grinned. "See if you can figure this one out."

With her left hand, she curled her pointer finger to thumb with her other three fingers raised, making the universal gesture for 'OK.' She then made a fist with her right hand, save her pointer finger, which she rapidly pistoned through the hole of her left hand. I snickered.

"I think I get that one. Is that a real sign?"

She grinned. "No, but I think it should be. It's meaning is obvious, don't you think?"

"Very." I paused, still smiling. "Do you want to..." I asked, repeating the sign.

She grinned, rocking her fist up and down.

I reached over, placed my hand behind her head, and slowly drew her lips to mine. We shared a leisurely kiss before I released her. She grinned at me and made a flurry of sign. If she expected me to get any of that, she was going to be disappointed. Her smile spread.

"I said, 'Stop fucking around and let's go. I'm ready for dessert.'"

"Maybe I won't start out as a two-pump-chump tonight."

She laughed again, the sound warming in ways I hadn't felt in a very long time. "You didn't do badly last night... or this morning..." she said before fanning her face with her hands.

"Just wait until I get you in my bed tonight," I said, holding her gaze.

She held my gaze a moment before she rose from her prop and took my hand, slowly backing up as she tugged on me. I pulled her to a stop just long enough to set the mostly cooked beef off the heat. It'd hold for a little while. Meadow was ready for dessert, and I didn't want to keep the lovely lady waiting.

We walked along the beach, my arm tucked inside Kane's, my body close to his as we held hands. The sun had set an hour ago, but the sand was still warm on my bare feet as the gentle ocean breeze rippled my gauzy wrap, the full moon slowly rising out of the ocean to bathe us in its soft light. I leaned into him, wanting to be as close to him as possible, wanting, almost needing, to feel his touch. I'd never done anything so romantic in my life, and having Kane at my side only made the stroll that much better.

In our two weeks together, Kane had impressed me. He wasn't the first man in my life, but he was the first one I was starting to think about a long-term relationship with. My love life had been a series of short-term relationships that ended in failure for one reason or another. Sometimes it was me that walked away, other times the guy. Most of my lovers were men who could hear, and they invariably fell into one of three categories.

The smallest group thought it was cool fucking a deaf chick. I suspected at least a few of them were saying things they'd never say to a lover who could hear as they lived out some dark fantasy where they verbally degraded a woman. These men were good for one thing, and one thing only, and that was getting an itch scratched. We rarely dated more than a week or two before I wised up or they tired of me.

Other lovers couldn't adjust to my deafness. I think some of them tried, but me not responding when they spoke to me, or my being unable to enjoy things they did, such as music, eventually drove us apart. It was frustrating for both of us because a couple of the men I'd really liked, but my deafness was simply too big a hurtle for us to overcome. These relationships lasted longer than those with guys who simply wanted to bang a deaf girl, but they still ended in failure.

The third group tried to smother me, either thinking I was helpless or out of a sense of pity. I invariably broke off the relationship with men like those. I couldn't abide their pity, and I didn't need a knight in shining armor riding to my rescue on a white charger. While I couldn't hear, I wasn't helpless, and in my thirty years, I'd learned to cope in nearly every situation. These relationships generally lasted the longest, one lasting several months, but they too always ended in failure.

I'd also dated three deaf men. While it was a relief I could be myself, and they understood what it was like being deaf, for whatever reason we never clicked. One was angry with the hand life had dealt him, and with the other two, it was simply a lack of chemistry.

I looked at Kane, and I warmed. Kane, however, was damn near perfect. Not only was he panty dropping handsome, his tanned, toned, muscled body making my mouth water every time I saw him, but most importantly, he treated me like a normal person. He still occasionally made mistakes, but he was trying, didn't blame me for something I couldn't change, and that was all that mattered to me. Best of all, he was simply a good person, and funny in a gentle, self-deprecating way. He treated me with kindness and respect without being overprotective, and he instinctively understood when to help and when to let me do it myself. When he did help, it was with only a few words, a nudge, or a gesture, just like anyone would with a friend who'd simply missed something. His help was so subtle I suspected when we were together, nobody around us even realized I was deaf.

He stroked my arm, our silent signal he wanted my attention. He turned us so the moon was behind me. He was so thoughtful, positioning us so what light there was shined on his face so I could read him. "I can't believe how beautiful you are in the moonlight."

The moon provided just enough light for me to make out what he said. I smiled and looked away. I changed my mind. The best thing about him was how he made me feel about myself. Not his words. Words were hollow and meant nothing. How he looked at me was the thing I liked best. I was expert at reading people, and when he spoke to me like that, his eyes and the softness of his face filled me with joy. Nobody had ever looked at me like he did, and I was reveling in it.

He stroked my arm again. This time when I looked up, he replaced words with action, slowly pulling me to a stop before taking my lips. He was the best kisser I'd ever experienced. How a man could put so much feeling into a simple kiss was beyond me, but he could. His kiss was soft, slow, and deeply passionate without slobbering all over me. Just like him, it was perfect.

He smiled down at me. "I've always wanted to kiss a goddess under a full moon on a secluded beach."

"Oh, stop it."

He grinned, enjoying the teasing. "No, it's true."

I had to look away. When we were being intimate, like now, he embarrassed me with his teasing, over-the-top praise. I'd normally write it off to idle flattery or an attempt to ingratiate himself so he could get in my pants... but those looks, they told a different story.

I looked up at him again. "And now that you have?"

He smiled down at me. "I can die happy."

I snickered and looked away again as we returned to our stroll. I looked at him. "Is that something you plan to do anytime soon?"

"I hope not. I have a long list of places I want to kiss you."

"Oh? Like where?"

He pulled me to a stop. "This seems like a good place."

He kissed me again in another slow, gentle meeting of our lips. I sighed as our lips parted. I stood in his arms for a long moment before pulling back. We walked again, but before we had taken ten steps, he stopped me again.

"And here."

I snickered as he lowered his lips to mine, blocking him with a finger on his lips. "Stop, or we'll never get back to the room."

He waited until I removed my finger before kissing me, something I didn't mind at all. "I don't care," he murmured as he slowly drew back.