Commitment

Part 93

She put her fork down. "That was perfect." She smiled. She looked at him, stay calm, stay in control, don't get nervous, don't ruin such a lovely evening. "I really enjoyed this evening. Great company and wonderful food. Thank you."

"My pleasure." His eyes twinkled. Even now, rehashing the last few hours, he wondered why he had not seen this woman's real nature when he lived here before. She was definitely clever given the way she discussed various topics. Laced with humour, with lots of empathy, and talking to her, was so different.  She was intelligent. Funny. Beautiful. "We should do this more often." He said firmly.

"Really?" She looked him straight in the eyes.

He nodded and chuckled. "Yes. I really enjoyed your company." And his mind registered, that he actually wanted to do more than talk to her. He glanced at her lips, and wondered, quite idiotically whether he'd ever have the opportunity to kiss her

She wondered about that light in his eyes, it had flared again when she said, "Me too."

"Who would have thought we could sit down together, just the two us, have dinner, talk about personal stuff and have a great time."

She smiled. "Must be the food!"

"Of course." Something about her fascinated him, he acknowledged silently. He watched her eyes, and he thought he could ruin the evening by acting on his wishes. Hold her close. And kiss her. For starters. But that thought had circled in his brain during this dinner. He got to his feet, pushed his chair back, came around the table and reached for her plate.

"I can take it to the kitchen."

He shook his head. "No, no. Stay. I am just going to take it to the kitchen."

She glanced up, when he hadn't carried on. "Everything ok?" She gulped, realised he was standing close enough to kiss him, if she just reach forward.

He reluctantly carried on with his clarification, "Thought I could get us coffee?"

"Well, I can do that." She dusted her clammy hands, brushed them against the skirt of her dress and got to her feet. Too close, she thought when he remained in that space. She squirmed. Caged by her chair, the table and him, her only options were to take side way step. Albeit awkward, brushed against the edge of the table, knocked her knee against the corner of her chair. "Excuse me." She reached for the back of her chair to steady her.

He grinned at her sheepishly, "Sorry." He reached her plate again. "Come on. You make coffee and I will rinse the plates and stack them in the dishwasher!"

He picked up his plate and headed for the kitchen. This evening, this dinner confirmed there was something going on here, between him and her. The question is, will he acted on it?

She used her shoulder to hold the door open and allowed him to pass her, but he also used that opportunity, to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

She blinked. Stunned, immobile. But he was already in the kitchen. She came forward, looked at him in total bemusement. But he missed that look.
She was still at the door. She frowned as she contemplated options, like asking him why he kissed her, albeit a peck on the cheek and her other option was to flee. She hadn't come up with a suitable or acceptable excuse. Her brain was scrambled. Because of that peck-of-a-kiss.

He opened the tap and started to rinse the plates. He looked over his shoulder, and asked with a wide grin, "Hey, what about my coffee?"

She rolled her eyes. Walked over to the kettle, flicked on the switch and went to collect the mugs.

She placed the mugs on the table, "Why did you kiss me, just now?" Again she rolled her eyes. She did not feign embarrassment; she was blushing when he turned around.