Law, Lies, and Love Affairs

It's Only a Kiss in the Rain

She tried to recapture the lighthearted mood of earlier in the evening as they walked back through the streets toward their hotel.

"I may have to rethink the whole fish thing," she said, and he raised his eyebrows.

"I've been holding out on going full vegetarian with Maddie but I'd swear that sea bass was staring up at me from the platter." The sea bass baked in a salt crust had been prepared table side, as was the tradition. But when the waiter cracked the crust to reveal the entire fish, then filleted it at the table, all Stevie could think about was how appalled Maddie would have been over the whole procedure.

"Let's just say I won't be ordering salt baked sea bass when Maddie's with me," Stevie said. And then she started to giggle.

"Oh, a minute ago you were mildly horrified. And now you think it's funny?"

"It is funny. I mean, who decided that removing the skin, head and bones of a fish table side was a great idea? It's actually kind of disgusting when you think about it."

She had to stop a second to catch her breath, and Mike turned to face her as she tried to explain.

"I've had dishes like that before and never gave it a second thought, but ever since Maddie came to live with me, it's like I see everything through the eyes of a five-year-old. An extremely precocious five-year-old with some very definite opinions."

She felt laughter erupting again, and couldn't hold it back. "And the absurd formality of it all. The waiter, ceremoniously delivering it to our table, placing the napkin just so over the dome of salt, then whaling away at it with the back of a spoon until it cracked open and crumbled onto that poor dead fish with the one glassy eye just staring up at me . . ."

"Now you're making me think it's ridiculous, too."

She gasped. "And I have no idea why it strikes me as so funny but I can't stop laughing."

Mike moved in closer. "I can fix that."

"Hmm, what?" She was only half listening. Then the air between them changed and she took a step back, leaning against the side of a building, as fashionistas, tourists, and vaguely recognizable celebrities flowed past them on the Via della Spiga, just a half a block from their hotel. He was suddenly close, way too close.

Mike leaned his hand against the wall behind her, effectively trapping her. He ran his other hand slowly up her bare arm and she felt her jacket slip through her fingers and fall to the ground by her feet. He moved his hand across her shoulder, behind her neck, tilting her head slightly while he continued to look into her eyes. She couldn't tear her gaze away.

She had plenty of time to say no, to stop this, to ask him what he thought he was doing and laugh it off. But her limbs wouldn't move, the words wouldn't come. She parted her lips to say something, anything, but instead she leaned her head forward, let him pull her against him, lifted her lips to meet his. It was familiar and startling all at the same time. He wrapped his arm around her and gathered her closer, reminding her how perfectly their bodies fit together.

He brushed his lips over hers once, twice, then leaned back, watching her through eyes that darkened like a stormy sea as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, then caressed the side of her jaw with his fingertips. Then he moved closer and she heard herself sigh and his lips met hers again, firmly and with purpose as if he knew her every secret desire and was planning to make them all come true.

It's only a kiss, she told herself, even as the intensity of it swept like a shock wave through the very core of her. She'd had lovers since Mike, of course, some of whom she remembered very fondly. None of them had stirred her like this. Over the past six years she'd managed to convince herself that her memories of that lost weekend with Mike had been exaggerated in her own mind simply because it had been so spontaneous, so unexpected, and so completely out of character for her serious, practical self.