One Wife Too Many

"Very thoughtful of you," he said.

She handed him the phone.

"Thanks," he said, exercising discipline as his mind screamed at him just to get the fuck out of there before he might be tempted to flirt.

"You could do me just one more small favor," she asked. "By staying here to give you back your phone, I've now got no way to get back to the garage. It's only five minutes away by car but maybe a whole twenty if I had to walk it. Would you mind driving me?"

His brain was now screaming at the rest of him to just get the fuck out of there before it was too late. The thought came to him that he should just flip her a twenty and call her a cab. Why tempt fate?

"Sure. I'll drive you. Hop in," he said.

No, no, no, John screamed silently at himself. Don't be a fool. You know how you are weak, and she is just so damn friendly and oversexed. A sure fire recipe for disaster, and-

She opened the passenger side door and slipped inside, sitting next to him. After closing the door, he caught her glancing at his left hand, obviously looking for a wedding ring, but seeing none. She decided to find out for sure. "It's awful nice of you to help me out like this. I hope I'm not putting you out where a possible wife is concerned. She must just be worried sick about what's keeping you, that is if you are married?"

It was her coy way of saying she liked him and might not mind going out on a date with him, provided of course, he wasn't married. She stared directly into his dreamy green eyes, waiting for him to answer. It never dawned on her he might actually lie about it.

"I'm not married," he lied.

'No, no, no, you idiot,' he screamed silently at himself. 'Why did you tell her that for? She obviously likes you, thinks you're handsome, hunky, nice, charming, smart and rich. But now...but now...because of your damnable lie, she also thinks that you are single!? You idiot!'

A smile began to play at the edges of her pretty red painted lips. "I know an even better idea," she suddenly said. "I'm just famished from all this hanging about. It's almost dinner time and I haven't even had lunch yet. If you drive us to a restaurant before taking me to the garage, it would give me a chance to get something to eat and then also give me a chance to buy you dinner for helping me out. There is a really nice eatery only a few blocks away from where they towed my car. What do you say?"

"Well, you are a very pretty girl, quite charming and fun to talk to. I can't think of a better way to spend a couple of hours. Sure, I'm hungry. Only if we are going to go, I insist you let me buy. Your car is probably going to set you back a lot for repairs."

Her spirits began to soar. He had paid her three glowing compliments in just one sentence. He was really proving to be one sweet guy. An urge to give him a quick kiss on the cheek as a thank-you suddenly overwhelmed her. But she was determined that any show of affection on her part would have to come with a guarantee from him that he was actually available to become involved if she indeed should start the dating process moving along. She wasn't a woman that was willing to share or that was willing to engage in warfare over a man. Either he was completely free to date or he wasn't. She sought clarity, before letting her hopeful mind sink further into the infatuation abyss.

"You sure you're not married, or engaged or seeing someone else?" she asked apprehensively, just trying to cover all her possible bases before allowing her heart to take the plunge and her lips to take the bait that was his gorgeous, warm, handsome mouth and rugged, stubble covered, seductive cheeks.

"I'm not dating anyone at the moment, no," he spat out convincingly, elevating her mind's status from hopeful to 'wow, this guy is really too good to be true and yet he actually is available to go all the way should I decide to start dating him in earnest!'

She gave him a playful kiss on the cheek.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"For all your compliments. You seem like a really sweet guy. I'm Cassie, by the way, Cassie Devrow."

I am not a really sweet guy, he screamed silently at himself. He then thought harshly, also to himself, 'I am a good for nothing low life that is leading you on and I need to snap out of this fantasy wishful thinking relationship before it has a chance to start. It's not fair that I am leading you on like this.'

"I'm John, John Haskins, and you seem like a really remarkable young woman." The words just kind of slithered out of his mouth, making her feel exhilarated but making him feel like the damn snake in the grass he was. Flirting shamelessly while leading his unsuspecting secretary on was what got him into trouble years ago, only now he was carefully crafting a stairway to this new girl's vulnerable heart.

He revved the engine and pulled away.

"It's just a right off of Buffalo Gap on the second street north of here. Then, a block along, on the north side. You'll see the sign saying 'Danny's Place' about twenty feet high. You can't miss it."

"Danny's place? Ah yes, been there before a couple of times. They have great lasagna if I recall."

"That's right. They specialize in Italian and Chinese food."

He turned right and watched for the neon sign to his right. He didn't have to go very far. He pulled into the driveway, got out of his car, and hurried around to open her door for her before she had a chance to get out.

"Why thank-you," she said, clearly stunned. No man had ever come round to open a car door for her before and it made her feel special. She sighed at just how impressive his list of brownie points was becoming.

As they ascended up the steps, she seemed to slip a little. She steadied herself, but he used the opportunity to instinctively put his arm around her tiny waist to help escort her inside. It felt sensual, and she loved how he again held open the door and let her step in ahead of him.

The air conditioning hit them instantly, soothing their sweat covered brows, and making them relaxed and comfortable.

Cassie ordered the fish platter with broccoli soup, and a soda.

John ordered the same. He did so thinking she may get the impression there were very much alike.

He also supposed that a platter of harmless fish may look more favorable than a slab of red meat, which some sensitive women found repressively macho.

She liked the fact that that each table had its own coin slotted juke box. The one at her table looked well maintained, and yet at least thirty to forty years old.

She fished for change but found no appropriate coins.

"How much do you need?" he asked.

"Two quarters should do the trick," she said. "I remember putting money into this thing when I was just a child. This is the only restaurant I know that still uses these."

"So you grew up here then? In this small town?"

"Uh huh," she clarified. "Born and raised. Only now I live in Dallas, about two and a half hours away. I run a small antique store there. I got a call from an old friend from the antique store out here saying they had gotten something real interesting here at an incredibly low price. We're friends, and so I knew they wouldn't try to steer me wrong. Turns out they were right. Only my car broke down, so now, whatever profit I do make, will only go back into the damn car. Go figure!"

"Story of life I suppose," he said, adding a smile tentatively in support.

He began to scrutinize her more closely in the bright but glare free restaurant. She was extremely beautiful, with stunning large breasts that seemed to just stand in mid-air, through a skimpy blouse without the aid of a bra. He tried to assess her age, gazing more purposefully. She was incredibly sexy, with a figure that had really dangerous, alluring curves. He guess her to be around his own age, thirty-six.

"I'm thirty-five, if that's what you're lookin' for with your intense gaze?"

John was dumbfounded. "What are you? Psychic? You knew I was tryna guess your age?"

"Not psychic, just intuitive, really. I sometimes can pick up on things. I have this built in fortune teller in my crazy mind that guides me. So, yeah, call it intuition if you want to. Everyone in my family does. They think it is quite amazing."

John suddenly got nervous. He had been leering and pondering over how awesome it would be to be making love to such an amazing looking girl.

"Plus, I don't want you to start blushing," she added. "But I know you think I'm pretty hot!"

John was now floored. But he was also a little scared. He had read about people like her, only she had not yet picked up on the fact he was married and trying to play her. His face did indeed start to turn a slight shade of pink. "Oh? And just what else does your uncanny intuition say about me?"

She smiled warmly and leaned forward until she was eye to eye with him. "Hmmm, it tells me you are very cute, with dreamy eyes, and strong chiseled features that go well with a dash of stubble. It also tells me you have this cute dimple right there and that you must work out a lot because you are obviously really buff under that shirt."

John chuckled. "I'm flattered at your praise of my appearance, only you didn't have to be psychic to tell any of that. All you had to do was open your remarkably pretty eyes."

"Really? And what's so remarkably pretty about them?"

John began to descend into a full blown panic. He knew only too well that his little charade was not only dangerous, in that it might blow up in his face, but grossly unfair in that he was leading Cassie's mind and heart slowly down a garden path that, in the end, grew only weeds instead of flowers.

"You okay?" she said, her demeanor changing from carefree to concerned.

"I'm fine, why?"

"Well you seem a little distant, almost worried like."

"It's nothing, really. Just that you remind me of a girl I was dating once," he lied, trying to be quick on his feet. "Like you, she was very pretty and loads of fun to be around. Like you, she was charming and had a warm, sparkling personality."

"So now my personality is sparkling? You sound corny, even though your words strike at my heart like a dagger. And yet, I'm trying hard to get a complete read on you but my intuition usually becomes cloudy any time I have a vested interest in the person I'm trying to read."

"A vested interest?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, you know, if I like someone. Whenever I start liking someone that's when my inner alarm system starts to get disabled. You're tossing all these compliments my way like damn hand grenades and they tend to muddy the waters where my once crystal clear intuition is concerned. I do get the sense you're hiding something though, but that could be just something unpleasant about your past. Soooo, this girlfriend that I remind you of. What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No, not at all. I think its good therapy for me to talk about it actually. Before I could get to know her really well, the company she worked for transferred her to another country half way around the world."

"And you miss her?"

"We never dated long enough for me to miss her in the 'love' sense, but in the 'really liking' sense? Honestly? I get that same feeling just sitting across from you now. You remind me of her so much. She was very special."

The two words, 'very special,' sent her reeling. She was a sucker for compliments of any kind, and he was laying on some pretty heavy duty ones fairly thickly, cutting though her objectivity and slicing away at her willpower. She began to panic in earnest, realizing that a tiny pathway of least resistance now shone upon the walkway to her heart. He was starting to get to her.

Still, there was something seemingly ominous about him she just could not read. Her sudden strong feelings toward him were definitely beginning to obscure her usually powerful radar. "You sure you're not seeing anyone?" she blurted out, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth the way boulders start rolling down a hill. She supposed her desperate declaration cast suspicion over her starting to become taken by his boyish charm and stunning looks.

He decided to callously move in for the kill. He laughed as he spoke. "No one right now, unless of course you'd like to start going out with me?"

"Why me?" she asked, still fishing for more compliments.

"You seem like a very nice girl. And I keep promising my mother and grandmother that one of these days I'll bring a girl home to meet them soon. I guess I'm really overdue. I think they've almost given up on me getting married, although I'd love to tie the knot. I'm definitely ready to settle down and raise a family. I just haven't found the right girl yet."

Her face beamed and her eyes began to glow at his catchy words. Real guys never seemed to talk like that, only in her eyes he wasn't a real guy, he was a larger than life wanna be hero just hoping to be some lady's knight in shining armor. As shallow and suspicious as his come-ons were, they did have a powerful appeal to them. And after thirty-five years of futility in finding a suitable groom, she was now determined to latch onto his words the way a drowning woman might grab a life preserver. She wasn't getting any younger, and starting to get desperate in her search to find that elusive husband. In some ways, John was presenting himself to her on a silver platter. She had been waiting for such a man all her life, persistently resisting the urge to become interested in men only out for one night stands or long term flings. She stared at him closely. He seemed too good to be true. Was he? Could he be the one to finally give her that cherished walk down the aisle? His words seemed to indicate he was wanting the exact same things she was. She decided to let down her guard.

"I've got a confession to make," she said, smiling broadly once more. "I've never dated a white guy before. So there are things I should know up front."

"Such as?"

"Such as, are white guys as frisky as they say?"

"Before I dare answer that," he said playfully. "You'll have to tell me whether or not being frisky is a good thing."

She shrugged and giggled at the same time. "A little hand around my waist now and again...or a little nudge of a nose into my hair to catch a scent of exhilarating perfume...or a few moist kisses when the timing's just right...well, all that is not just okay, but also very desirable. What annoys us women early on in a relationship is the over the top pawing with sweaty palms...or the constant touchy feely...or the octopus arms reaching for off limit places like a breast or bum cheek."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said, his heart thumping at how inadvisably deep he was taking them both into a mutual attraction that, in the end, could only destroy them both.

Their flirty verbal barbs and admiring glances were setting the stage for an escalation and she braced herself. This was usually the point at which a guy either got in deeper or left her high and dry.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" she ventured.

"Thirty-six."

"Just a year older than me."

"That's the first time," he remarked mischievously, "that I've ever met a woman that volunteered her age twice in five minutes."

"A first time for everything," she admitted, starting to lose herself momentarily in his gorgeous eyes.

He sensed her vulnerability. Before she had a chance to snap out of it, he moved his handsome mouth much closer, until he caught her lush lips off guard.

The kiss was thrilling, yet audaciously bold.

A burst of pleasure swept over her entire body and she let their lips remain together indefinitely, where they percolated sweetly.

He had crossed the line, but it was a calculated risk. She didn't give him any rebuke.

As he finally pried his sugary lips free, he knew that the potential to do real, unmitigated damage to her was now irrevocably real. Screaming alarm bells inside his head were begging him to back off and let her off the hook, but his conscience was lethargic and unresponsive. He suddenly hated himself. Was he really going to keep leading her on? He knew that what he was doing was patently unfair, not only to Cassie, but to his wife, Stacie as well.

And then, of course, there was always his precious daughter Marcie to think about. Was he really also willing to take a chance on tearing her life apart?

A part of him was pretending that no possible harm could come of his allowing himself to become infatuated with the beautiful and sexy Cassie. But a part of him was reeling in panic and disbelief. How was he going to be able to stop himself?

"John, are you sure you're okay?"

"Huh?"

"You're doing it again! Becoming distant, engaging in faraway thoughts. Are you sure everything is okay?"

Before he had a chance to answer, or reconsider his position, two large plates of fish, salad, and mini potatoes in lemon sauce were set down before them.

"Back with your sodas in a minute."

"Any wine?" John asked, almost mindlessly, unable and unwilling to put the mouth brakes on again, faulty mouth brakes that were growing more dangerous by the minute.

The waitress pointed to a three carded menu standing upright as a triangle next to the juke box.

He turned to Cassie. "I forgot to ask you if you wanted something from the bar. A bottle of wind would go nicely with the fish. If I order you'll have at least a glass? I don't like drinking alone."

She once more eyed him carefully, then giggled. "Sure, wine would be lovely, but are you sure you're not just trying to get me drunk?"

"What difference would it make? Drunk or sober, you'd still be extremely beautiful."

She pondered slowly over his corny but heart warming words. 'Extremely beautiful?' Had he actually said that? She zoomed in once more on his hypnotic green eyes. He seemed so very fond of doling out compliments. Perhaps TOO fond! For the first time she realized that a reality check for him might be in order.

"Drunk or sober, I'm not an easy girl," she informed him. "Getting me between the sheets would be harder for any man than walking on the moon. Just so you know. I don't do one night stands. I'm strictly marriage minded. I'm no virgin, but at thirty-five, I've been burnt too many times to just totally let myself jump all the way in ever again until I'm absolutely sure of the guy."

John could feel his lofty expectations of a quick sexual score with her suddenly deflate. Although a part of him did nonetheless feel relieved. Stealing her heart would be the easy part. Making off with her oversexed, voluptuous black body would prove a much more difficult proposition. Jumping off the cheating cliff with Cassie would be a lot easier said than done, and that boded well for giving him a chance to escape unscathed while the escaping was good. It wasn't just Stacie or Cassie's heart at risk of breaking, but his own as well. Should he fall in love with Cassie, it would only serve to open up a nasty can of worms, that once unleashed, could never be put back again. If he were going to get himself out of the sticky mess he seemed hell bent on creating for himself and the woman, now would be the time to do it.

"This is the third time you've gone off so deep in thought," she said softly, still smiling, only now apprehensively. "I hope I didn't scare you off with my 'I'm not easy speech,' did I?"

"Not at all. Some things are definitely worth the wait. Waiting to make love to such a remarkable woman as yourself would be something to be treasured and savored."

His words once again slammed into her heart. She sighed wearily at their implication. He was simply a slippery one, on the one hand talking about intimate, taboo topics, but at the same time qualifying each word to make it all so reasonable and okay.