Blue Smoke

battered. Since he hadn’t moved in the last several minutes, she decided it had been a war that had ended in a tie.
    “Is that the phone?” she mumbled.
    He stayed as he was, flat out on top of her, his face buried in the mass of her hair. “No. What?”
    “Wait.” She took slow breaths, concentrated. “God, it’s my ears. My ears are ringing. Wow.”
    “I’m going to stop crushing you as soon as I regain the use of my limbs.”
    “No rush. You know, you were right. We weren’t ready for this thirteen years ago. We’d have killed each other.”
    “I’m not sure we didn’t. That’s okay. They can bury us just like this.”
    “If we’re dead, we can’t make love again.”

    “Sure, we can. If heaven doesn’t have lots of good sex, what’s the point?”
    Had she ever known a man who made her laugh so easily? she wondered. “I think saying something like that could send you to hell.”
    “If God didn’t invent sex, who did?” He managed to brace himself on his elbows to look down at her. “And that was one hell of a religious experience.”
    “I did hear singing, but I’m not sure it was angels.”
    “That was me.” He lowered his head, kissed her softly.
    T hey ate pie in bed, and made love again with the tang of lemon on their tongues and crumbs on the sheets.
    She gave him a slow, lingering kiss before rolling out of bed to find her clothes.
    “You’re going?”
    “It’s nearly two in the morning. We both work for a living.”
    “You could stay, sleep here. It’s not like you have that far to go. And remember, I have cookies for breakfast.”
    “Tempting.” She pulled on her pants, shirt, stuffed her underwear in her pockets. She was gloriously tired, the sort of tired, she thought, that only came after good, healthy sex. “But just how much sleep do you figure we’ll manage? We’re too hot for each other.”
    “I couldn’t possibly go another round,” he claimed. “I’m tapped.”
    She angled her head, studying his face in the candlelight. “Liar.”
    He grinned. “Prove it.”
    She laughed, shook her head. “Thanks for dinner, dessert, and all the rest.”
    “My pleasure. Lots of my pleasure. How about tomorrow night?”
    “How about it? You don’t have to get up,” she began when he tossed his legs over the bed and reached for his pants. “I know my way.”
    “I’ll walk you over. How about dinner tomorrow? My place, your place, anyplace.”
    “Actually, I might have a line on a couple of tickets to the O’s game tomorrow. Behind the dugout at third. If they come through, are you interested?”

    “Is rain wet? You like baseball?” He pointed at her as he spoke.
    “No.” She raked her hair more or less into place with her fingers. “I love baseball.”
    “Seriously. Who won the series in . . . 2002?”
    She pursed her lips a moment. “It was California’s year. Angels over the Giants in the full seven. Lackey got the win.”
    “Oh my God.” Goggling at her, he thumped a fist on his heart. “You are Dream Girl. Marry me, bear my children. But let’s wait until after the game tomorrow.”
    “That’ll give me time to buy a white dress. I’ll let you know if the tickets come through.”
    “If they don’t, I’ll start working on some for the next home game.” He took her hand as they walked downstairs.
    She picked up her purse. “You don’t have to walk me next door, Bo.”
    “Sure I do. There might be muggers. Or aliens. You just never know.”
    He grabbed his keys, stuffed them in his pocket as he headed out the door with her.
    “See, romantic. And old-fashioned.”
    “Yet manly, and with panther-like reflexes.”
    “Which will come in handy with the aliens.”
    They walked down his steps, then up hers. Where she let him kiss her limp.
    “Go home,” she murmured.
    “Maybe you should walk me back. You’re the cop.”
    “Home.” She gave him a little nudge, then unlocked her door. “Good night, Goodnight,” she said, and shut the door.
Watching her. Know how to wait, know how to plan. Never thought it would take so long, but hey, shit happens. Besides, the waiting makes it bigger. Slut’s banging the guy next door now. Convenient.
    Could kill him now. Go up, knock on the door. He’s going to open it. He’s going to think it’s the whore. Slide a knife right into his guts. Surprise!
    Better to wait. Wait and watch. Do him later.
    While the city burns.
    Light’s on. Bedroom light. Her bedroom. Bet she’s naked. Touching