Texas Heat

When she stood, I couldn't help but admire those thighs. They were covered in loose fitting blue overalls, but I could still make out the rippling corded muscles beneath the thin material. I felt flushed suddenly and was, once again, thankful that my skin was dark enough that she could not see the color rise to my cheeks.

She leaned against my car, one leg crossed over the other, and just watched me.

I swallowed, trying to gather up my nerve.

"Need something, Princess?"

I frowned, "I thought I asked you not to call me that?"

"My bad. Evelyn, right?" She smirked.

I nodded, "Evy."

"I like Evelyn."

I swallowed again. She had taken the time to contemplate something she liked about me? That was inspiring.

"Look, uh—, okay, well, look, I, uh, I n-never—"

She was still watching me and I couldn't get the words out. I just couldn't. I sighed and was about to crawl back into my car in defeat and just take off when she finally took pity on me and took the reigns.

"So you decided to take a shot, Princess?"

I ignored the annoying nickname. "What do you mean?" I couldn't have been that transparent, could I?

She stood to her full height and moved toward me until there was only an inch or two between us. She looked me directly in the eye and before I knew it her lips were on mine. It was just a taste. Just a soft, tantalizing taste that went right through me. I closed my eyes automatically and when I opened them she was watching me closely. I could feel my body thrumming.

"What time should I pick you up, Princess?" She asked huskily.

"Seven." I finally managed to get out.

She nodded and I watched her walk away. Moments later I was on my way home, feeling flushed, a little dizzy, and absolutely terrified. Why had I believed asking her out was going to be the most difficult part? I've never been on a date with a woman! How did it work? Did I have to do the salad thing, like guys expected? Who paid for dinner? I shook my head. Why were all these idiotic thoughts going through my head? I just needed to relax. No, actually, what I needed was to call Zenobia, my old college friend who had been gay since before she was born. I hadn't spoken with her in a few months, but she should be an expert at this gay thing by now. I laughed at the thought. I was still smiling when I pulled into my driveway and then it occurred to me – I had not given Dee my address!

*

A few hours later I was as close to sane as possible. Zeny was thrilled to hear from me, laughed hysterically as I filled her in, and then told me to relax. She told me to just be myself, expect to pay my half of the bill, and just pretend I was hanging out with a new friend. She said thoughts of kisses and other things just made the evening more stressful. If only I could explain to her that I could not possibly get this woman out of my blood, not after that kiss. Still, I felt better after chatting with her. And she reminded me that Dee had my address since she'd fixed my Mercedes.

So I bathed, perfumed, and then dressed carefully. I opted for dressy casual with no make-up. I had on black penny loafers, blue jeans and a black double breasted jacket. The jacket fit well enough for me to skip wearing a blouse beneath it, so I settled on a black teddy instead. I both admired and hated my full figure in the mirror as I counted the minutes to her arrival. It was 6:50. She would be here any minute.

Sure enough, at 6:57, the doorbell rang. I guess she had managed to find my address in her computer after all. I hurried down the stairs, took a deep breath, and then opened the door. I was glad I dressed casually because she wore Timberland boots, black jeans, a black wife beater and a burgundy sports coat. I wish I could say she was unimpressive, but that would've been a lie. The form fitting jeans teased me with images of her thighs, the wife beater offered glimpses of her flat tummy, and the burgundy jacket couldn't hide the muscles in her arms if it tried. So for me, she was a feast for the eyes. She raised a brow when my eyes finally met hers and I grew flush again. I had been ogling her on my doorstep, what kind of horny pervert was I?

"Sorry. Do you want to come in for sex—uh, I meant, umm, uh, d-do you want to come in for a sec? That's what I meant. Sorry."

Her smirk was back and I kicked myself mentally. Sheesh.

"Let's get something to eat Princess, I'm hungry."

The nickname was growing on me, I don't know why. Something about how she said it. It wasn't as much of an insult as when she'd said it that first day. I grabbed my purse from a table near the front door and followed her to an old, relatively beat up Honda. The same one Juan had used to drive me toStarbucksthat day.

"This isyourcar? I thought it was Juan's."

The car was so old there were only lap belts. I strapped mine on and watched her fold herself behind the steering wheel.

"My father gave this car to me for my 20th birthday."

I realized that would have been just before her parents died, according to the newspaper article. I was silent, suddenly understanding why she hadn't junked the car.

"It runs smoothly." I offered after I could think of nothing else to say.

"I rebuilt the engine again last year."

I nodded but remained silent. Sometimes she had nothing but strength and cockiness exuding from her and other times there seemed to be a dark cloud hovering around her. She was certainly a mystery.

"The guys are all relieved you're gay. They thought they were losing their touch."

I glanced at her in surprise and realized she was teasing me. I smiled just a little.

"I'm not." I said without thinking.

"You're not what?"

Well, no way out now, "gay."

She glanced at me for a minute, the smirk returning, "really?"

Okay, that probably sounded idiotic.

"I mean, uh, I've never—, I mean, I've never even b-been with—"

She laughed. A full blown, hearty laugh in that deep husky voice of hers. It was fucking sexy as all hell, even if I was embarrassed at what I had just shared.

"I like that."

I could have kicked myself when I just blurted that out. She looked at me again.

"What?"

I shrugged, but I could still feel her gaze shifting from the road to me, back and forth. She wasn't letting it drop.

"Your laugh."

There, I said it. God, I'm a jackass. I clearly have no social skills whatsoever.

She looked at me for a long moment and then continued to drive. I was relieved she didn't say anything that would make me feel worse than I already did. I looked out of the window, realizing I had no idea where we were going. She clearly knew her way around the Poconos.

"Why did your parents name you Pasadena?"

She glanced at me quickly again before shrugging, "the story is I was born in Pasadena, Texas two months early and near death while my parents were visiting my grandparents. So my mother named me Pasadena."

"I thought your family was from New York."

She glanced at me and I winced. How would you know that Evy, I asked myself on her behalf. I really am an idiot.

"You saw that article?" She asked.

"Yea, sorry. I Googled you."

She looked at me again and raised a brow, "why?"

I shrugged again, "curious I guess."

She smirked and went back to her driving.

"My family is from New York on my mother's side."

"Oh."

Another moment of silence as she turned onto a very dark road.

"So, what else did you read?"

I was embarrassed yet again. It felt like I'd invaded her privacy. I tried to make light of it.

"Oh, you're 42, you own 4 gas stations, you're single and you're a millionaire."

"Is that why you wanted to go out with me?"

The question caught me so off guard I responded from the heart, "God no, I was attracted to you before I read that."

I couldn't believe I had let those words slip from between my lips. Could I embarrass myself any more than I already had?

"Good."

I glanced at her when she said it, but she was now watching the road. A few minutes later, out of nowhere, a brightly lit building appeared. It was shaped like a barn and there were lights all around it. I hadn't heard of this place so I wondered how she had.

A parking attendant opened my door and she handed him the keys. The lobby was filled with people waiting to be seated. I sighed, realizing I was a little hungry and not in the mood to wait. I looked around, a little uncomfortable as I realized Dee and I were the only blacks in the place and the only people wearing jeans. Some people looked down their noses at us and I suddenly wanted to dine elsewhere.

"Dee!"

I turned as an oversized man pulled Dee to him, hugging tightly. For the first time I saw what looked like embarrassment on her face.

"Bob, put me down."

The big guy let her go but tossed an arm around her shoulders. I realized how tall he was then, probably 6'4" or 6'5". He had a very warm smile on his face and his blue eyes seemed to have misted up.

"God girl, how long has it been?"

Her face wasn't dark enough to hide the blush entirely.

"Too long. Sorry."

"Hey, no prob. I didn't take it personally, memories and all that shit. You got reservations?"

"Nah. If you don't have a table—"

"Girl, don't make me hurt you. Bring your ass over here!"

There didn't seem to be an empty table in the place, but miraculously one materialized and was set immediately. We were sitting down when a waiter brought over a bottle of wine.
"One of my best. On the house, as is dinner. Don't leave without a goodbye."

And he was gone, just like that. I was watching Dee. She seemed uncomfortable.

"A friend of my father's. He looked after me right after they were killed and I haven't been by to see him in a while."

I nodded, "oh."

We studied the menu in silence. The selection was overwhelming. I think Dee noticed my frustration.

"Why don't I order for us?"

"Thanks," I quickly agreed.

As soon as she put her menu down, a waiter appeared at her elbow. She ordered stakes, cooked medium well, with baked potatoes and side salads. A simple meat and potatoes dish. There was plenty of opportunity to grand stand on the menu, but she didn't. That allowed me to relax just a bit more. Once he took the order, and topped off my wine glass, the waiter melted back into the chaos.

"Popular place."

Dee looked around, "yea, my parents and I used to come here all the time."

"Were you an only child?"

She nodded. "My Dad loaned Bob the money to start this place."

I looked around with her, "well, it was a good investment."

"Bob gave him 48% of the restaurant instead of paying back the loan."
That took a moment to register, "so you own 48% of this restaurant?"

She shrugged and I guessed that was a yes. I was surprised she seemed so embarrassed.

"The article said your father owned a chain of gas stations?"

"He sold them when I was 7. Said he wanted to spend more time with me," she paused, seemed to swallow down something, "he kept the first station he'd ever owned. That's the one I inherited. I branched out when a friend of the family was almost bankrupt. I bought his 3 stations to help him out. His son manages them."

I asked her a few more questions about her past before allowing her to change the subject. We talked for hours, eating wonderfully tender steaks and enjoying the delicious chocolate mousse cake and coffee that followed. We had both relaxed quite a bit by then. The two bottles of wine probably helped. I was more than just a little tipsy and worried about Dee driving, but she seemed fine. I would admit the next morning, when I woke up with a hang over, that I probably had most of the wine anyway. When we were just about ready to leave, Bob appeared out of no where, snatched her up in his arms again, gave her a bear hug, and then made her promise to stop by more often. I was smiling when we left the restaurant. I'd had a great time.

We didn't say much on the way home and I could feel myself getting sleepy. When she parked in front of my house, I reached for the handle to let myself out, but she stopped me. She turned me to her and I sank into the warmth of those dark, chestnut eyes. Before I could think, she tossed out a husky "may I?" and then she was kissing me. This wasn't like the quick kiss at the gas station. No. This one was different. Sweet. Warm. Tender. Coaxing. I felt her lick at my bottom lip and a soft moan escaped from me as she deepened the kiss just a little. My head was buzzing and my body was vibrating from the feel of her. I could feel my hard nipples brushing against the soft satin of my bra and I shifted a bit uncomfortably as my nether lips swelled. She ended the kiss suddenly and I felt a rush of cold air as she moved away. My breathing was ragged at best and it took me a moment to grab hold of the car door handle again.

"Goodnight, Princess." She murmured teasingly in that deep voice of hers.

I smiled and unsteadily made my way to my porch. I heard the car pull off as I closed the front door behind me.

*

Even though I was hung over, I was on cloud nine the next morning. The day seemed brighter, the birds less annoying, the air crisper. I went about doing laundry and puttering about the house, trying to keep myself busy as I waited to hear from her. I wanted to hear her deep, husky voice. I wanted her to make me smile and laugh like she did the night before. I wanted to remember that kiss while I enjoyed the sound of her. But I didn't hear from her that day. I didn't panic, it's pretty normal for a person not to call right away. She might not want me to think she was desperate or anything. So, I went grocery shopping and talked on the phone with some friends, trying not to 'wait' for her call.

But I didn't hear from her that day or the next, or the next. She wasn't at the garage when I stopped there for gas on Monday or any day that week. She didn't respond to the message I left for her...and suddenly I went from cloud nine to feeling crushed. I thought we'd had a great time. I thought there was something between us. Clearly I was mistaken.

After the first week without word from her, I went into nothing short of a depression. Even Michael stopped focusing on himself long enough to worry. I wasn't eating, I forgot assignments, I arrived to work late almost every day...it was really fucking with me. I stopped by the gas station at different times during the day and on weekends, but Dee was no where to be found. I called Zeny crying, as well as a number of other friends (most of whom were shocked I'd dated a woman), and everyone pretty much said the same thing...fuck her.

Easier said than done. I wish I could just write her off. I wish I could get myself to visit another gas station...but it took me a few weeks to actuallydosomething about it. I didn't stop buying gas at her station, if for no other reason than the fact that I liked my gas station pals. They made me smile every morning and that was worth something. Besides, she was clearly avoiding me so I had no reason to worry about bumping into her. I also started focusing on work again, eating regularly, and taking advantage of the weight loss by going to the gym and working out. I went shopping, I went to visit old friends...I decided to pick myself up. If Dee didn't want to see me, fine by me. There were other fish in the sea. And perhaps I wasn't a lesbian any way. Why would I want to be one when women seemed to treat me worse than men? So, of course, following that logic, I started dating again.

It was at this time that I met Bruce. Bruce was sweet. Also an Executive Assistant, but for a firm on Wall Street, he made 3 times my salary. He was white (why not bend the rules?), a little pudgy, with intense blue eyes and a sweet personality. He had been classically trained in music, the violin, at Oberlin. And he made me feel just wonderful. We met through a mutual friend, had dinner one night, and then decided after a few more dates to embark on a full-fledged romance. And he was good at romancing. He called often to inquire about me, sent me flowers, and introduced me to the world of classical music. It seemed to be a good fit...and he was quite the kisser.

And I was smiling again. It had been three months since I'd last seen Dee, and I cared a little less every day. I had to agree with my friends that if she didn't see the value in me, forget her. I was worth more than that. After all, why would someone as sweet as Bruce want to spend time with me if I wasn't worth something, right? I didn't usually define myself through the eyes of others, but I could see that there was something to the logic in this case.

So Bruce and I spent more and more time together. And after dating for well over a month, he finally asked me to spend the night. I agreed. We shared a very nice wine, he played the violin for me, we watched a cute little romance on television, and then he finally made his move. I responded to the kisses as they grew more passionate. I didn't feel the same zing that I felt when Dee kissed me, but I liked Bruce and it was sweet. Finally he took my hand and led me to his bedroom. No rockets, but again, it was sweet. He was not very experienced, but that was okay. All in all, I felt pretty good about us. I knew Bruce and I were headed in the direction of a serious relationship and I felt pretty prepared for it.

*

Michael bitched and moaned all the way from New York after our meeting with the Board of Directors. The meeting had not gone well and, of course, Michael was to blame. As President, what did he expect? I mean, why else was he paid six figures? Anyway, I had a terrible headache, the traffic was a nightmare, I was planning to see Bruce that evening but had already called to cancel. And now if I could just get my boss to shut up...

He had me drop him off at home while giving me tons of instructions on all the work he wanted me to finish before I left the office. I was annoyed, having hoped he would let me leave early, but drove to the office and dove in anyway. By the time I left it was 7pm, my head was killing me, my stomach was growling, and all I could think of was a nice hot shower and my very comfy bed.

When the light on my dash lit up declaring I was almost out of gas, I groaned. I mean, what else could happen? None of my buddies would be at the gas station and surely that would annoy the hell out of me. Still, I would never make it home, so I had to stop. I was on the phone with Bruce, begging off of our standing Saturday date, realizing that I just needed some "me" time, when I arrived at the gas station. I simply handed my card to the attendant, not bothering to look up. Bruce wanted to know how I could decide on Wednesday that I would be exhausted on Saturday night. He did whine sometimes. And I really wasn't in the mood for it today.

It took me a moment to realize my credit card was still in my hand. The attendant had not taken it. I turned to look up, annoyed beyond belief and wondering how idiotic a person could be...and yea, my brain shut down again. She seemed to simply have that affect on me.

"Evy? Evy, are you still there?"

"Uh...yea...uh...Bruce...uh...let me call you back, okay?"

I hung up, not bothering to wait for an answer. My heart was thudding in my chest suddenly, my headache forgotten. Pasadena Williams. She was still alive after all. She finally took the card from me and started the pump.

She had the nerve to look great, black muscle-shirt under a denim jacket, jeans painted on over those sculpted thighs, terribly scuffed work boots...our eyes met again after she finished fiddling with the pump and I could feel myself falling into those rich chestnut pools. I'd missed her plain face, the caramel color of her skin, the narrow nose with an odd bump on the ridge. I think she told me over dinner that she'd broken it on the jungle gym in middle school. Her hair was still braided back into cornrows and the entire package was still...mind-numbing.