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Part 13

Sometimes I think the late night bubble bath is what makes life worth living. The feeling of the warm water tinged with caressing soap running its way around my body. Yeah, every once in a while life can be good.

My hands, in their journey around my body to make sure everything was clean, ran across portions that brought back delightful memories of only an hour previous: kissing Mark after he made me feel more like a girl than any hormones, doctors, or surgery could ever hope to accomplish. Or perhaps the looks we gave each other as we ate our respective meals in silence. The knowing smiles, heated gazes, flicks of our tongues to catch the dripping juices running down our chins.

My legs were like jelly, my tummy warm and content, my mouth eager for more, and Mark's eyes hot and consuming.

A giggle echoed in the bathroom at what I did afterward to convey my thanks for that release that he gave me.

Steve was dead on right about one thing. The desire to repeat the experience wouldn't leave my head. I could see exactly how addictive sex could be. No, don't worry, it didn't go that far. But experiencing the closeness that I did with Mark was the most intense experience I had ever felt. It was like I wanted us to meld into one being. When I had myself wrapped around him while he sat on that stool, I couldn't squeeze him hard enough, I couldn't hold the involuntary reactions that it involved.

I only hope I didn't make him deaf in one ear. That would make me feel kind of guilty. Hopefully I made up for it afterward. He seemed to enjoy his time, and that was all that counted in my book.

The look on Chloe's face when she got into the Beetle, Friday morning, was priceless.

"Holy crap, you had sex!"

"Wha…?" I give up. First thing I do when I get home this afternoon is to call the C.I.A. Who need waterboarding when with one look, Chloe can tell your deepest secrets?

"You're literally glowing! Stamp out that carbon footprint baby, 'cause you won't need to use any electricity for the next year!"

Apparently I won't need any heat this winter either, because it was rolling off my face in waves. "I did not have sex last night."

A snort almost echoed in the car and Chloe actually laughed out loud. "You are such a bad liar."

"I didn't… really!" I pleaded in my defense. "I can't have sex!"

Her eyes narrowed and I looked away, toward the street, to pull out and drive to school. A little hole burned its way into my brain and I could almost feel Chloe using her evil superpowers to read my thoughts.

"You didn't have sex," she stated, knowing that I was concealing a bigger truth.

"Nope."

"Did you orgasm at any point last night?"

"Chloe!" Damn it!

A quick look at her face and I knew she had it all figured out. "And did Mark orgasm at any point last night."

A relenting sigh wooshed out of my lungs. "Yes."

"You are such a bad girl," she declared and bounced in her seat. "So spill. Details girl. I'm all about the details."

"I was cooking him dinner."

"Oh, in the kitchen!" Then her face squinched up. "Hey, I eat on that table."

"It wasn't on the table. It was kind of on one of the stools."

Now she was confused. "How in the world did you manage that."

I shied away a little from that question and gave a meek response. "We were kind of making out, and I might have crawled up into his lap. Then *poof* the happy happy joy joy fairy came for a visit."

"Hold on… back up. You orgasmed from making out? Are you sure it was a real orgasm?"

Thanks goodness we had to stop at a stop sign, because I was required to fling a look at her. "There are different degrees of orgasm? If there are then I'm screwed, because that one had my knees weak, my thighs hurting from squeezing too much, and my brain on vacation into lala land for quite a long time. I don't think I could take anything more intense."

"Wow," Chloe responded. "Um, yeah. Sounds like the real deal." After a couple of beats she added, "Only from making out?"

I nodded. "Well my neck was involved and we got a little carried away. I think my nipples have gotten a lot more sensitive over the last week."

Chloe sighed. "My little girl is becoming a woman." She turned back and faced forward. "You are one of the lucky ones. Some girls can orgasm from having their breasts stimulated. Dammit! I'm not one of them."

I shrugged. "Well I had been on low simmer for most of the night, and Mark just made me… His mouth…"

"I get it, girl."

I was almost on simmer again. "His tongue and …"

"I said I get it! You don't need to get that graphic." One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three. "So how did he…"

She's almost becoming predictable. "Well we ate afterward, and I might have brought him upstairs."

"Might have?"

I nodded. "Sure. It's all part of the very realistic fantasy world I have inside my head… only not so much fantasy last night."

"You didn't."

"I didn't what?"

Chloe poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue a couple of times without using the rude hand gestures. There were too many people walking around that would be able to interpret that particular sign.

Can a cringe be taken as an affirmative sign? "Not really?"

So now the look I receive is bordering on confused with a touch of 'are you crazy' added in.

I sighed dramatically. "I gave him a 'hand' with things. I might have had brief tongue contact, but that was it." With a frown I added, "He didn't really last very long, and pulled my head back before…"

Chloe's lips were pressed together and her eyes seemed to expand in their respective sockets. Her shoulders started shaking. It kind of looked like she was trying to contain something before she burst out in a most hysterical case of the giggles.

With a semi-disgusted look on my face I opened my door and hopped out so I could close the door back as quick as possible. She lost it then and I could hear her muffled laughs. I for one didn't see what was so funny. I had a great time last night and my boyfriend did too. That's all that mattered. Hmph.

"Casidhe O'Connor," Mr. Walsh called on me and I saw an office aide leaving the classroom before I hopped up and made my way to his desk. At my inquiring look he handed me a hall pass. "The Vice Principal wants to see you in her office."

I took the pass and scanned it. What'd I do?

Chloe tried to give me the fish eye on my way back to grab my backpack, but she was still too amused from my 'handy' revelation in the Beetle this morning to even try to look serious. I flashed the pass and mouthed, 'office'. "Apparently I've been a bad girl."

Ah, if only Chloe had been drinking something at that moment. Instead she jerked sideways laughing and rammed her ribs into the desk. See, its not nice to mess with the karma fairy. Eventually, I always win. I always think of others before myself… well, except for last night. That was definitely me first. But that wasn't exactly my fault, because Mark was just as giving I was.

Sigh. I'm never going to be normal again, am I?

Luckily homeroom wasn't that far away from the front of the school, so after dodging the custodial engineer, and a very smelly mop that he was wielding in a strangely Arthurian way, I pulled the office door open. Happy Sparkly girl was behind the counter again. Doesn't she ever get a break?

"Hi, can I…"

I held up a hand to forestall her chirpy attitude, and flashed the pass. "I know my way."

Her bottom lip pouted out quite cutely.

The Vice Principal's door was ajar as I neared, and I could see a blonde girl that I recognized from some previous day at school. She looked energetic, which in my opinion is never a good sign.

A light knock later and I fully opened the door. "Am I interrupting?"

The forty-something, wannabe thirty-something, lady from behind the desk, stood. "Casidhe O'Connor?"

"That's me." The lady held out her hand for one of those finger shake handshakes. I obliged.

"Hi, I'm Buffy Carstairs, and this," she indicated with a polite gesture. "Is Jamey Bunzeatan."

Buns eaten? Oh, poor kid. Some parents should get a clue and straighten out their name for the children's sake if nothing else. I could just see little Jamey being picked on in elementary school.

I shook the poor perky girl's hand as well. "Pleased to meet you both."

"Sit, Casidhe, please." A vice principal named Buffy. What is it with this town? I'll never be able to take her seriously. Too many vampire slayer jokes come to mind.

I set my backpack down and swept my knee skirt under me before sitting and crossing my legs.

"So, quite the showing last night at the game."

Ah, so the curtain is pulled back. "Yeah, well I could see at the game on Tuesday that the cheerleaders had their work cut out for… oh no." I finally twigged as to who the girl was. 'Jamey the head cheerleader'. "Look I wasn't trying to usurp anyone's role here. I was just supporting my boyfriend and invited a lot of friends to the game. It kind of snowballed from there."

Buffy looked amused and I watched as she swiveled her LCD computer screen around for me to take a look at. It was Jerry's MySpace webpage, and yes it was updated with a number of shots from last night's game. Man, was my skirt really that short? "I can explain that."

"No need, Casidhe. You aren't in trouble."

That froze me in my seat, in mid heart attack. "I'm not?" I looked over at Jamey shaking her head.

Buffy explained. "You might not be aware, but I'm the faculty advisor and cheer coach for our Mighty Falcon Cheerleaders."

I was boggled and just shook my head slowly. "Uh…"

"We've tried our darndest to whip up support for our baseball, basketball, and volleyball teams, but for the last eight years turnout has been abysmal." My eyes darted between Jamey, Buffy, and the door, which as luck would have it was mere feet beside me. Bug out plans scampered through my head that would make the Great Escape look like Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

"Whoa."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Exactly." She threaded her fingers and leaned into her desk with an almost manic smile on her lips. I say manic, it might be described as energetic, considering her cheering experience, but let's go with manic anyway. It sounds more ominous.

"So I bring in Jamey here to congratulate her on a fantastic job last night only to be told she had nothing to do with it."

Oh god. I left my scrying ball in the bathtub this morning, please don't make my life more complicated.

"Word made it around fairly quickly and I'm given a web address to a MySpace page."

I lurched forward on the balls of my feet gauging how far away my bag is in relation to the door. "It's not my page. Jerry Greene has a crush on me and… and… " Dammit!

Jamey's making her move! I reached down to grab my bag. There are heavy books in there. Bitch was going down if she touched me!

"We want you to join the cheer squad," announced Jamey with a bit too much pep in her high twangy voice.

I froze. There's no other word for it. Nary a muscle twitched as my mind took a vacation on the lovely shores of Antarctica. The cool breeze, well the really cold breeze iced over my body. Penguins were there. For some reason the theme from Happy Feet popped in my head.

"Casidhe?"

"Huh?"

Jamey looked excited enough for all three of us. "Great news, right?"

"I'm not in trouble and you want me to be a cheerleader?"

"Jamey," said Buffy. "Let me explain instead of jumping right into it."

My eyes swiveled to the adult in the room. She scrolled down and there was my letter that Jerry posted. "In basically what amounts to a day and a half, you single-handedly increased attendance by 300 percent." She scrolled back up. "You obviously look good in a cheer outfit, and your boyfriend is captain of the team."

I had to cut her off before this got silly. "I have no idea how to cheer. I lack any semblance of coordination. I've almost fallen down the stairs three times this week alone. There's no way…"

"You misunderstand," said Buffy. "We don't want you to cheer, we want you to do what you did last night. Oh, and also to hook us up with whoever made your outfit." Two beats later. "The idea of a parking lot party before the game was genius. Where ever did you come up with the plan?"

My eyebrow arched. Did these people ever watch television? "It's the same thing professional football teams do. It gets people in game mode and all pumped up."

"And the free food?"

"I paid for that."

Now was the time for Buffy's bogglement. "Why on earth would your parents pay for something like that?"

With an eye roll I clarified. "I'm emancipated. My parents are dead, and I had the money." Jamey and Buffy, both looked shocked and on the verge of offering me their unsolicited condolences, so I rambled on. "Like I said before, I was at the game on Tuesday and my boyfriend, Mark, got really pumped up because I was there. He hit a homerun for me and they wound up winning. All they needed was a little support and they could do good. So, I came up with a plan to bring some more friends along for the ride."

Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my legs again. "As you can see, it worked." Pointing to the computer screen. "As you can also see, a lot of people are enamored with what's new. I'm new at the moment. So I took advantage of my current, short-lived, popularity."

"See?" Jamey said to Buffy. "We've got to have her. Do you know what chance I have at making the college team. Being the captain of this squad, with Casidhe's ideas, could almost guarantee a place."

"Pardon?"

I got Jamey's full attention. "Even colleges have a hard time with the minor sports. Football is easy. Everyone already comes to those games. If I could show that our attendance jumped this much because of the cheer squad…"

"Ah. Gotcha. No ulterior motives there."

"Frankly, Casidhe, I don't care one way or the other about how it happened," explained Buffy. "I just want it to keep happening and you are the go-to girl."

I gave her my wishy-washy look. Guaranteed to bring in extra incentive goodies. I already have a cheerleading outfit and the captain of the baseball team. What other benefits can I get. "I dunno."

"It'll guarantee you a place on the squad next year, and if you want to learn to cheer we can do that," Buffy offered.

More attention, and the opportunity to flash my spankies in front of thousands of people at football games? Not to mention the high percentage chance of a crippling neck injury? No thanks. She could see I wasn't going to be turned to the perky side.

"There are advantages to cheer squad." It was Jamey's turn to try and sell me. "You get to miss a lot of classes for pep rally's, and school sponsored trips. We went to Los Angeles this year for Nationals." She lurched forward and grabbed my hand. "Please Casidhe, for the sake of school spirit!"

And your own self interests, of course. I closed my eyes and held back the urge to rub them. There are disadvantages to wearing makeup. "Okay, on two conditions."

Buffy grinned at me nodded expectantly. "One, same deal with the parking lot party, concession wise. Everyone got a free Coke, hot dog, and a bag of peanuts."

"I was going to suggest that anyway," Buffy confirmed.

"And my cohorts in crime get to join as well." I pointed to Chloe and Ted on the screen. "They're the reason we had so much fun last night."

"Done."

I should have held out for more.

"I'm what."

"Chloe, you're a cheerleader. Get over it."

"But… but…"

"Nope, it was an all or nothing deal I made."

"I didn't even get to tryout."

"Did you want to try out?"

"Well, no."

"Well, there you go."

"I hate you."

"I found out you get to wear your outfit to school on game days."

Perk! "Oh, okay then."

"I'm a what?"

"A cheerleader."

"So the school will sanction me wearing those shorts and acting like a fool in the parking lot."

"Only if you keep shaving your legs. That was part of the deal, Ted."

Okay, so I fibbed a little. It was for a good cause.

"Uh…"

"So did you and Craig have fun last night?"

"…"

Putty in my hands.

Mark was late getting to school on Friday. Doctor's appointment; annual checkup. No need to worry. I saw him after lunch, and sister it was a sight to see. I had my back to the front doors as I was checking out the remaining baseball schedule and making notes. I scented him first, and then felt his presence. Was it some unknown superpower of mine finally revealing itself after a strong emotional connection we made last night? I'm sorry to say it wasn't.

He was standing about an inch away from me and luckily for me, Mark had an air conditioning vent at his back, blowing merrily away toward me. I spun around and my jaw fell off, I was grinning so wide.

"Hey baby." God, I love it when he calls me baby.

I jumped into his arms and sighed contently.

"Time!" Curse the school policy on public displays of affection! I screwed up my face and pulled back to give an unknown upper level teacher my discontented frown. A hug can last no more than three seconds. How am I supposed to give my man a proper hug with only three seconds!

"Walk you to class?"

With the evil minion teacher quickly forgotten, I eagerly nodded and bent to pick up my backpack. Mark grabbed it away from me and shifted it to his shoulder beside his own. With a thankful smile I threaded my hand with his. "I got news."

"What's up?"

"You are looking at Hildegard Desmond High's newest cheerleader." At his confused look I added, "I know, right?"

"I know I shouldn't ask, seeing as you can seem do anything you set your mind to, but how did you manage this one?"

I shrugged. "Seems that Ms. Carstairs, Buffy to her friends and cheer squad advisor, got wind of last night's parking lot party."

"Buffy?"

I patted his hand, locked with mine. "She was a product of the preppy eighties. Be kind."

With a conspiratorial nod he relented. "So, you impressed her so much…"

I shrugged. "She want to make a regular thing of it and make it school sponsored so it looks like it was a team idea, not to mention Jamey Buns Eaten wants to make it look like it was all her idea for her try-outs resume in college."

"Uh huh, it's all becoming much more clear."

We make it to my class and I sexily leaned back onto the wall outside the door, looking decidedly girlfriend'ish. "I get to wear my outfit on game days."

If I didn’t know any better I'd think a shiver just went down Mark's back. His eyes heated up, and with it the temperature in the hallway.

"Well then, I wholeheartedly approve."

With a grin I reached up and quickly kissed him. "I thought you might."

You know the best thing about Fridays? Well, no school is a really happy thought, but it's also tutoring day with my sweetie! Tutoring is so much more fun when he's laying back on the couch and I am firmly ensconced in his arms.

"You know…" kiss. "We really ought to…" kiss. "Get back to …" kiss. "What was I talking about?" Nuzzle. "…"

"My parents want you to come over for dinner tonight."

My eyes bug out and I smack him on the arm. "And you're just telling me now, why?!" I looked at my watch and see I we have about twenty minutes before his session is over. "Come on. Bring your stuff and we'll finish upstairs while I get ready."

A very quick kiss later and I'm racing upstairs to my closet with a trailing Mark Tanner close behind.

"Oh god what am I gonna wear?"

"Casidhe, it's just dinner." He dropped his book on the bed and casually lounged across the mattress. My mind went off into lala land for a moment, seeing him there, but I soon recovered and brought my attention back to the closet.

"It's dinner with your family and I want to make a good impression."

"My mom already loves you, and Dad thinks you're a riot."

Poking my head out of the closet I gave him a disbelieving, "Really?"

He nodded in conformation. "They haven't seen me this happy in a long time and they know you are the cause."

"Aww, that's sweet."

I settle for a fairly plain but elegant little black dress, and pulled it out, holding it in front of me. "What do you think? Too much?"

The look on his face was enough to tell me it was just right. "You're going to give my father convulsions in that."

I nodded once. "Just as long as I do the same for you then I think I'm cool."

"That dress and the word cool do not belong in the same sentence."

Isn't my boyfriend the best?

I disappear into the closet and dispense with my jeans and vee neck tee. "Sweetie, I forgot my panties."

"Best news I've heard all day."

"Stop." I giggled after. "They're in the top drawer on the left of my bureau. Please?"

I heard movement and then a drawer open. "What color?"

I thought about it for a second… not which color, but which particular design. "The black lace thong."

An arm appeared a few moments later. Hanging off of one finger was my selection. "You do know, of course that I'm extremely turned on at the moment. Guys normally don't get access to their girlfriend's panty drawer until at least the tenth date."

I snag them from his finger and grab his hand for good measure. "Well we're not like normal couples." Feeling the need to explain further I take that very same finger into my mouth and tongue the length before letting go and scampering back into the depths of the closet.

"Now that was just wrong," I hear from the bedroom. "My mind is going to be in the clouds during dinner."

"That was the point," I sing-song.

Donning my panties and tucking obtrusive things away, my eyes scan over my shoes selection. Oh, yes, a nice choice if I do say so. With heels in hand I exit the closet and see a conflicted Mark waiting on the bed with his arm covering his eyes, looking all put upon. He's such a drama king sometimes. I do notice a good deal of tenting in certain areas.

I cross the floor, noiselessly, open another drawer of my bureau and remove a package of black patterned hold ups. The dress comes to my knees so they should be fine. Mark's attention is on me now, watching my every move as I open the package and slide the first stocking up my right leg. He's entranced when I hike my dress up just a little and straighten the silicon stays located behind the lace tops.

"Like?"

I hear his mouth almost smack, knowing that it had gone dry. "Uh huh."

Sliding the second stocking on produced much the same results. The four inch slingbacks finished off the outfit. I stood and twirled around. "What do you think?"

He didn't answer for a few moments. "I think 'I' might just go into convulsions."

As I walked around the bed I saw him sit up and scoot to the edge, letting his legs hang off the side. He made room for me so that I could stand properly between those very same legs. I leaned, but not too far, as Mark is amazingly tall, even sitting on a bed, and I gave him a soul searing kiss.

When I pulled away and stood back up, I grinned. "I have to fix my make up. Can you go downstairs into the cellar and choose a wine for us to bring to dinner?"

He nodded dumbly. "Uh huh."

I sat at the make up table and heard a slight groan. "Casidhe?"

"Yeah, baby?" I can call him baby too. Isn't it neat?

"Which wine? I know virtually nothing about wine."

"Oh, no problem. What's for dinner?"

"Hold on." He reappeared at the bedroom door with his cell phone in hand. After a few moments he looked at ease. "Hi Mom. Yeah, well be there in…" Mark looked at me and I mouth 'fifteen'. " About fifteen minutes. "Casidhe wants to know what we're having for dinner so that she can bring the wine."

I watched him absorbing the menu and in turn relate it to me. "Roasted Peppers and Mozzarella for appetizers, garden salad, Penne alla Vodka for an entrée, and Crá¨me Brulee for desert."

I sat there with my mouth open, nodding slightly.

"Okay Mom, see you in a few."

After he hung up I gave him my # 7 evil eyes. "I'm going to beat you."

"What?" He tired to look so innocent standing there.

"Your parents are serving a four course meal and you give me twenty minutes to get ready?"

"Casidhe, you're gorgeous. You're always gorgeous. It doesn’t matter what other people think."

Oh you poor delusional boy. I roll my eyes. "Get two bottles of the Ruffino Greppone Mazzi, 2001. White and black label to the right of the door as you go in."

I make a mad rush darkening my eyes and lips. Thickening my eyeliner just a tad and a fresh application of mascara and I'm ready by time Mark gets back holding one of the bottles up for inspection. I give him a finger… no, not that one. The one that says wait a second while I retrieve a slightly damp towel to clean off the thin layer of dust that had accumulated over the last few years.

"Perfect."

"Really Casidhe, you don't need to do this. They like you."

I set the bottles on the bed, and turned to Mark. "Sweetie, I want them to love me. I want to make a really good impression. You're important to me, and I don't want to give them any reason to think I'm after you for… ulterior reasons."

He took me lightly by the arms. "They don't think that. I've already told them about you. That's why they wanted to have you to dinner. You're the first that they've every done that for."

Butterflies go off in my tummy. "All the more reason."

He chuckled lightly for me, and the smile he had set his eyes sparkling. "Just be yourself and they'll love you as much as I…"

You couldn't have stunned me any better if you were holding a taser.

"I m-mean…" he stammered.

"Don't ruin the moment," I whispered. "Kiss me."

My hands slid up around his neck and I was lost a half-second after.

"I'm going to be underdressed."

I was star struck, looking out the windshield of his viper, almost oblivious as to what was going on. "Hmm?"

"Mom and Dad always dress for dinner, even when Casey and I don't."

I looked at him and glanced again to what I was wearing. "Do you have a dark green or blue button down?"

"Both."

"Good. Go with the green, and black slacks. Appropriate shoes, of course."

"Of course." He smiled for a second. "Why green?"

"So we'd match. I'm a red head in case you haven't noticed, and you'd look yummy in green."

He nodded in agreement. "Green it is."

Breathe Casidhe. Just breathe.

Susan met us at the front door, smiling conspiratorially. "Casidhe, welcome to our home. You look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mrs. Tanner, you too. I love your shoes." I did. You just can't go wrong with Jimmy Choo.

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. It was a good thing that my make up was darker. I had a feeling I would be blushing throughout the evening."

"Oh, let me take that off your hands."

I handed her a small basket I wrangled up, that held both bottles of wine. "Oh, Ruffino. You shouldn't have, Casidhe, but I'm glad you did. I haven't had any since the last time Michael and I were in Italy."

Mark looked pleased. "Mom, I'm gonna go change for dinner. Would you mind keeping an eye on Casidhe?"

Susan looked almost shocked for a second. "Of course. Take your time, Mark. We'll be in the lounge."

And he was off, running up the stairs. Followed closely by my smile.

"Have you substituted my son with a pod person?"

"Pardon?" I almost laughed, but considering my current mode of dress I toned it down to a confused smile.

"Mark never — ever, dresses for dinner."

Glancing up the stairs where he disappeared, I smiled sweetly. "He's trying to impress me. Thing is, I was always impressed with him. You have raised a wonderful man, Mrs. Tanner."

"Okay, enough with the Mrs. Tanner nonsense. I'm Susan to you.

"Susan. Thank you."

She took my hand in hers. "Off to the lounge we go. We have to give this red some time to breathe."

I was sitting in a very ornate armchair chatting along nicely with Susan when the door opened and he entered. I think my pulse sped up a tad too fast at the sight of the emerald green button down stretched across Mark's chest. I really don't remember getting to my feet and meeting him in only two steps.

"You look…" I swallowed very shallowly. "Very handsome."

"Only because you're standing next to me."

Oh my god. If I were watching us up on the big screen I would probably die of sugar overload, but having that response said to me, in person, made my knees weak. I broke my gaze away from his, because if I didn't, then Susan was about to get quite an eyeful.

Instead I caught her covering her mouth with delighted mirth, and then look away busying herself, finding imaginary lint or some such other.

"Casidhe," she strategically interrupted. "How about we try out that Ruffino?"

Mark's hand found mine and I nodded. "Sounds great."

When presented with half a glass I took it gratefully. It had been a while since I had had any. Gramps insisted on including it in my social education. At least once a week we would have a different wine with dinner. He would go on and on about the grapes used and the vicinity of the world that they were grown. I looked at the deep red, my emotions turning slightly melancholy.

"Casidhe?" Mark sounded slightly concerned.

I looked up at him, glassy-eyed. "Sorry, I was just thinking about Gramps. He's the one that taught me about wine."

Susan stood behind the bar as she handed Mark his half-full glass as well. "Would you mind telling us what he said about the Ruffino?"

I smiled as I remembered the lesson. "Tuscany. It's quite an acidic grape with a strawberry like taste in its youth." I swirled it around a little and after closing my eyes, breathed in the earthy scent. "You'll find it has a velvety sweet, fruity taste that delights the palate, with hints of rosemary and thyme. This counters the garlic and peppers in tonight's dishes quite well. So feel free to show your loved ones appreciation without fear of rejection."

Opening my eyes, I saw Susan's delighted grin. "Oh, sorry. I forgot myself."

Her eyes turned to her son. "Mark, if you ever let Casidhe go, I will beat you — severely."

"Point taken," he responded with a little bit of humor in his voice. His hand slid around my waist and he lightly touched his glass to mine. "To the future."

I did it! Thorough an entire evening with in-laws, um, boyfriend in-laws? What the heck do you call your boyfriend's parents? The friend-laws? That doesn’t sound right. I must investigate post haste!

"What are you thinking about?" asked Mark with just a touch of need in his voice.

My smile still hadn't receded from when I said good night to Susan and Michael. "I'm thinking about how much I love your parents."

He sighed with a little relief. "I was afraid they would scare you off."

My head snapped around. "Are you kidding? They're great! I can see a lot of your dad in you. He's quite the charmer."

"Should I be worried?"

I shrugged to the side a little. "If I were twenty years older, definitely. But I like the younger guys, so you'll have to do for now."

"Well, don't feel like you have to settle." A little smirk made his cheek twitch, so I leaned over and kissed it, smartly.

"There is no settling where you are concerned. There is only wanting with a side order of needing."

Mark spared a half-second's attention away from the road and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

When we arrived back home, he escorted me to the front. I entered and disarmed the alarm, turning back to see him at the frame of the door. "Would you like to come in for some coffee or… something else?"

His eyes took me in for the thousandth time that night. "If I do, I'd never be able to leave again."

The click of my heels on the hard wood floors was the only sound lightly echoing in the room, until I came to a stop right in front of him. With the added few inches height, being inside, I could almost meet Mark eye to eye. "Who said I ever wanted you to leave?"

"Casidhe," he breathed my name, and I didn't want to ever hear anything else ever again.

"Kiss me, Mark. Please."

His hands appeared from nowhere to brace my neck and my jaw line. Thumbs brushing ever so lightly over my cheeks left me without any breath in my body until he slowly closed the distance. A rush of air entered my mouth bringing with it his scent, and the added flavor of the last glass of Ruffino we shared for the evening.

My heart pounded in my chest and I wanted nothing more than for Mark to sweep me up, off my feet and take me to bed, but I would settle for his lips against mine.

His kiss was light, tender, almost heartbreakingly beautiful. I was torn against grabbing him and pulling him inside or just standing there touching his chest while he devoured me with his kiss.

I don't remember running my fingers through his hair. I don't remember pulling him in, wanting him to bruise my lips with his. I just recall feeling right for the first time in my life. Everything was coming together. I don't know if what I was feeling for Mark was love, but if it wasn't then I was well and truly screwed, because I was already lost in him.

"I love you, Casidhe."

Oh my god.

Photo Credit: Olga http://mgpg.wordpress.com/2006/09/25/olga-super-red/