Summer Desserts

start at her toes and climb upward.
    “And this sort of thing.” He nipped at the cord of her neck, enjoying her quick little intake of breath. “You taste better than the popcorn.”
    “And it’s excellent popcorn.” Summer turned her head so that her mouth could find his.
    So warm, so right. Summer felt it was almost possible to say that her lips were made to fit his. If she’d believed in such things… If she’d believed in such things, she might have said that they’d been meant to find each other at this stage of their lives. To meet, to clash, to attract, to merge. One man to onewoman, enduringly. When they were close, when his lips were heated on hers, she could almost believe it. She wanted to believe it.
    He ran a hand down her hair. Soft, fresh. Just the touch of that and no more could make him want her unreasonably. He never felt stronger than when he was with her. And he never felt more vulnerable. He didn’t hear the explosion of sound and music from the speakers. She didn’t see the sudden kaleidoscope of color and movement on the screen. Hampered by the small seats, they shifted in an effort to get that much closer.
    “Excuse me.” The young usher, who had the job until September when school started up again, shifted his feet in the aisle. Then he cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”
    Glancing up, Blake noticed that the house lights were on and the screen was blank. After a surprised moment, Summer pressed her mouth against his shoulder to muffle a laugh.
    “Movie’s over,” the boy said uncomfortably. “We have to—ah—clear the theater after every show.” Glancing at Summer, he decided any man might lose interest in a movie with someone like her around. Then Blake stood, tall, broad shouldered, with that one aloofly raised eyebrow. The boy swallowed. And a lot of guys didn’t like to be interrupted.
    “Ah—that’s the rule, you know. The manager—”
    “And reasonable enough,” Blake interrupted when he noticed the boy’s Adam’s apple working.
    “We’ll just take the popcorn along,” Summer said as she rose. She tucked the barrel under one arm and slid her other through Blake’s. “Have a nice evening,” she told the usher over her shoulder as they walked out.
    When they were outside, she burst out laughing. “Poor child, he thought you were going to manhandle him.”
    “The thought crossed my mind, but only very briefly.”
    “Long enough for him to get nervous about it.” After climbing into the car, she placed the popcorn in her lap. “You know what he thought, don’t you?”
    “What?”
    “That we were having an illicit affair.” Leaning over, she nipped at Blake’s ear. “The kind where your wife thinks you’re at the office, and my husband thinks I’m shopping.”
    “Why didn’t we go to a motel?”
    “That’s where we’re going now.” Nibbling on popcorn again, she sent him a wicked glance. “Though I think in our case we might substitute my apartment.”
    “I’m willing to be flexible. Summer…” He drew her against his side as they breezed through a light. “Just what was that movie about?”
    Laughing, she let her head lay against his shoulder. “I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
    Later, they lay naked in her bed, the curtains open to let in the light, the windows up to let in the breeze. From the apartment below came the repetitive sound of scales being played, a bit unsteadily, on the piano. Perhaps she’d dozed for a short time, because the sunlight seemed softer now, almost rosy. But she wasn’t in any hurry for night to fall.
    The sheets were warm and wrinkled from their bodies. The air was ripe with supper smells—grilling pork from the piano teacher’s apartment, spaghetti sauce from the newlyweds next door. The breeze carried the mix of both, appealingly.
    “It’s nice,” Summer murmured, with her head nestled in the curve of her lover’s shoulder. “Just being here like this, knowing that anything there is to do can be done just as well tomorrow. You probably haven’t played hookey enough.” She was quite sure she hadn’t.
    “If I did, the business would suffer and the board would begin to grumble. Complaining’s one of their favorite things.”
    Absently, she rubbed the bottom of her foot over the top of one of his. “I haven’t asked you about the Hamilton chain because I thought you probably got enough of that at the office, and from the press, but I’d like to know if you got what you wanted.”
    He