Only Uni (39 page)
She was ready. Body humming, mouth primed.
Dinner had been consumed with minimal public pigging-out on her part. Conversation had been witty and entertaining. Glances had been inviting but not too coy. If he hadn’t gotten her message, he was dumber than a rock.
Kiss me, baby!
His kisses must be like Godiva truffles. She’d become conditioned — the whiff of his cologne made her salivate. She was ready to be smooched and see stars.
As she stood by her SUV, he enveloped her in a bear-hug that swallowed her in a rich sea of cologne, Lever 2000, and Spenser-musk. She contentedly drowned. “Thanks for a great evening,” she spoke into his jacket pocket.
“Not bad for two friends, huh?”
Mmm, he had a solid torso. She wasn’t close enough to feel his heartbeat, but she was fairly certain it beat faster than baseline, if this long embrace was any indication. Better and better. He loosened his hold and stared down at her for a long moment. She couldn’t quite see his face because of the parking lot light shining behind him, but she felt the tickle of his breath on her forehead.
Her heart flipped cartwheels. Her senses came alive — she felt every light touch of the evening breeze, heard the faint roar of car engines, the skitter of some animal in the ornamental brush beside the restaurant.
He moved his head, leaning close.
Oh, yeah.
She tilted her head up, but not too quickly, or else he’d think she was being too easy to get. Her lips parted.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her
cheek
.
What? Her heart smacked face-first into the pavement. Her muscles went into rigor.
Why didn’t you kiss me, you freak?!
Her cheek! A brotherly kiss.
But he didn’t move away. His jaw pressed to hers. His breathing sounded harsh in her ear. Her body hummed where his hand, still embracing her, scorched her back.
Then another part of her realized,
Man, a guy with self-control!You scored, babe.
Had she wrongfully assumed his playboy reputation? Or maybe he was being extra careful because she both worked with him and went to his church. Or maybe he had discovered during the course of dinner that she was too ugly and her mouth was too caustic for him to consider even thinking of her as other than his coworker and sometime friend, and he’d now go ask out that stick-skinny Hong Kong intern girl and they’d get married and have beautiful, skinny children together.
Then his voice rumbled in her ear. “Let’s take it slow.”
No! No! No!
“Sure.”
He drew back. She did
not
imagine that his hand lingered on her back longer than was technically necessary. And yes, she could barely see her hand in the dark parking lot, but she definitely heard his faster breathing. That took the edge off her disappointment.
She drove away with a smile on her face. She grinned at the empty intersection while she waited on the stoplight. She grinned at the drunken pedestrian who crossed Camden Avenue at a randomly chosen spot. She grinned at the suicidal rice-rocket as it zoomed past her, winking at her with a flash of red taillights.
She couldn’t wait for work tomorrow morning. She wondered how long he’d want to take things
slow
.
H
e didn’t know how much longer he could take things slow.
Spenser activated his mother’s car alarm and hustled into the church with Matthew between him and his mom.
She tucked her hand in Matthew’s but spoke to Spenser. “Are you going out to lunch with your friend?”
“Don’t know yet.” He hoped so, just the two of them. “You’re fine getting a ride with Mrs. Choi?”
“Of course.” But she wasn’t about to be distracted. “Did you have a good time with your friend on Friday night?”
“Yeah.” They’d gone out to coffee after she’d finished worship team practice. “Thanks for watching him. Matthew said you both slept on the couch.”
She smoothed down the collar of her favorite lavender suit. “VeggieTales. He fell asleep first, for a change.”
They happened to see Trish in the foyer as they entered the church. She lit up the room with that smile. It seemed a bit brighter than normal, which made him lengthen his stride. “Hi.”
“Hi. Oomph! Hey there, Matthew.” She bent to peer down at the five-year-old attached to her leg.
“Tish! Tishtishtishtishtish!” Spittle rained on her khaki slacks.
“Machoomachoomachoomachoomachoo!” She tickled his ribs until he giggled and let go of her leg, to hang on like a monkey to her arms. While swinging him, she turned to Spenser’s mom. “Hello, Mrs. Wong. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. I keep wanting to tell you how inspiring it is to have you up there on the worship team.”
Trish’s smile turned nuclear. Spenser could feel the warmth. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Wong.”
“Well, I better take Matthew to Sunday school. I’ll see you.” She disentangled her grandson from Trish’s arms and led him down the hallway to the Sunday school room.
Alone at last.
Trish’s eyes softened when she looked up at him. “Hi — oh, Olivia!” She reached around him to grab Olivia by the sleeve.
“Hey.” She gave the two of them a speculative smile.
His gut clenched in an automatic reaction. But rather than wanting to ease away from Trish, his feet shuffled closer to her protectively.
Relax, Spenser. She was a big girl. Gossip wasn’t bullets. Besides, Olivia wouldn’t say anything, even if she did suspect they were more than friends.
“Olivia, I’ve been meaning to ask you, would you be willing to write a reference for my MDiv application?”
Olivia’s teeth gleamed against her dusky skin. “Oh sure. Get me the form and tell me when you need it. Who else have you asked?”
“Griselle, and also Christina who works with me at Katsu Towers. My fourth one is on my supervisor’s desk at work right now.”
That’s right, on Friday they’d talked about her wanting to get her MDiv. He tried not to feel left out that she hadn’t asked him, but then again, if things worked out . . .
He shifted from foot to foot as they chatted. Weren’t they going to lead worship together? Did they have to discuss all this now?
“See ya.” Olivia hitched her gig bag higher on her shoulder and headed toward the sanctuary.
Finally.
Her smile said she had seen his impatience. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
She laughed. “It’s fun.”
“To annoy me?” He flicked a lock of hair off her cheek.
“And it’s easy.” She stuck her tongue out at him. She also eased a little closer.
He liked that. “I have something for you.”
Her eyes sparkled like she’d been handed a fat red envelope on New Year’s. “What?”
He reached into his pocket and removed the earring. “I found this in my car seat after I drove away Friday night.” He’d dropped her off at her SUV, still parked in the church lot, after they’d spent hours in Tran’s Nuclear Coffee shop.
She held out her hand, but a cluster of people from the Singles Group suddenly walked into the foyer. Before he could give her the earring, her hand whipped behind her back and he straightened, trying to tip away from her so they wouldn’t look like they were standing as close as they were. This thing between them was new and they were taking it slow, so they’d agreed to try and avoid the gossip that would fly around.
“Hey Trish, Spenser. Trish, great worship set last week.”
“Thanks.” She gave a lightning-short return wave.
Move along, people.
“Spenser, are you still training people to work the sound board?”
“Sure.” He was glad the post-college grad was interested, but she could have picked a better time to talk to him. “I have another training session Wednesday night at six.”
“Cool. Thanks.” She flashed a wide smile.
He wasn’t looking at her, but he could tell that Trish stiffened.
“Come on, I can see them inside already.” Another girl pulled the brunette away, and the group of singles moved on.
He didn’t realize his shoulders had been so tight until they suddenly relaxed. Trish’s expression wasn’t as warm as before, but she wasn’t condemning, either.
He shielded the space between them with a rolled shoulder and passed her the earring more smoothly than James Bond himself would have. She loosed a short giggle.
But once she glanced at it, her animated face flatlined. Her spine snapped stiff as a spear, and she held the earring up in her fingers.
The ninja stars shooting from her eyes
thwacked!
him right in the forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t mine.” She flicked it from her fingers and walked away.
Clara’s smile beamed in her wrinkled face as she announced, “We’re having a girl!”
The other women in the Katsu Towers rec room
oohed
and
aahed
. Trish skewered her with a suspicious eye. “I thought your son was single?”
Clara flapped a hand. “This is my other son.”
“The responsible one,” Deborah added in a not-quiet-at-all aside.
Sumiyo shushed her, although not vehemently. “Clara’s hearing is fine, you know. Don’t start another squabble.”
Trish turned to Deborah with renewed respect. “You fought with Clara?”
“She accused me of turning up my new hearing aid to overhear what she was whispering to someone else.” Her voice was still pitched a bit loud since her nephew had sprung for the cheapest, and consequently, weakest hearing aid available. Trish was glad Deborah had finally agreed to get one, after she’d gotten her glasses. “How else was I supposed to figure out if her gossip was juicy enough to tell everybody else?” Deborah cackled.
“You were more fun when you were blind and deaf.” Clara shook a finger at her, but she had a playful tone. She tapped Trish’s wrist. “So, how did your date go? You told us last week you were going to see him again on Friday.”
The ladies dithered and giggled. She wasn’t getting out of this. Friday had been great, but because of Sunday, she had barely spoken to him the past couple days. She wasn’t quite ready to talk it out. “Um . . . it was nice.”
Deborah’s gaze narrowed. “
Nice
isn’t a word for a date — that’s the word for when you’re trying to compliment the cook and the casserole tastes like garbage.”
“Deborah!”
“Be nice to the poor girl.”
“She can’t help it if the boy isn’t marriage material.”
Except he could be. Maybe.
No, she’d violated rule number one and had been looking. This was what she deserved. At least God was being nice to her and her tests had come back negative. Maybe at some point she’d be obedient enough and please Him enough that He’d send her a nice boy to marry her.
Deborah shrugged. “Well, can’t bat a thousand every time.”
Casseroles. Batting. “How great, you’re reading the newspaper again.”
Deborah self-consciously adjusted her glasses, but then her gaze sharpened. “Nope, missy, can’t change the subject.”
Trish sighed and told them about the earring incident.
The ladies clucked their sympathy. “Oh, that awful man.” “Well, you’re too good for him.”
“You’re being an idiot,” Deborah barked.
Trish straightened in her seat. “No, I’m not.”
“There is no such thing as a saint. Women just think some men are. Of course he’s dated other women.”
“I agree with Deborah.” Clara nodded.
“
Et tu, Brute?
” Trish crossed her arms.
“What?”
“Are you speaking Korean or something?”
“No, Clara knows a little Korean.”
Deborah leaned forward in her seat, her eyes wide behind her bifocals as she stared at Trish. “Are you pregnant?”
“
What?!
” Trish glanced behind her. “Who are you talking to?”
“You, you clueless girl. Your breasts are bigger.”
At the word, the other women looked away, pink-cheeked.
“No, they’re not.” Trish dropped her arms from in front of her. “You’re confused because of your glasses.”
“I had glasses last week, too. I’m not confused.”
Clara stared at her chest with her head cocked to the side. “I think Deborah’s right.”