Turn Over

“Do what?” I tasted the drink, brimming with strong tequila.

“Change the subject like we weren’t talking about something important and make it seem completely natural.”

“Maybe in order to keep our arrangement we’re going to need to respect that some topics might be off limits.”

She frowned. “Off limits?”

“Yes. With your curiosity I suppose that’s going to be difficult for you.”

She shook her head. “No, maybe it’s for the best. We’re keeping things light, right?”

“Very.”

The waitress returned and we ordered a heaping plate of nachos, tacos, and an extra bowl of guacamole.

“Do you think you’ll be able to walk back in those things?” I pointed to her shoes when dinner was over.

“Yes, I want to walk. It’s completely different down here at night.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds silly, but it’s more magical. The lights and the music. It feels different.”

She was right, I had noticed how the air had changed since we left the restaurant. The stuffiness was gone. The pretentiousness of the priceless menus. The perfect dripless tapered candles. All of that was staged elegance and romance.

The jars that flickered with lobbed over candles. Colored lights that hung on whatever hook was in the path. Music that came from the radio. It was real here.

We strolled in the direction of the hotel, stopping along the way to watch the boats pass under a bridge.

“I’ve never seen San Antonio like this.” My fingertips stroked her shoulder. I had almost memorized the freckles on her skin here.

“Why not?” She studied my face.

I turned her, so her back was pressed against the stone railing of the bridge. The tree branches barely stretched out this far.

“I’ve been asking myself that all night.”

“Maybe you work too much,” she scolded.

“Now you sound like Eden.”

“I think she’s right.” Her hand snaked around my neck, and my breath almost stopped.

I leaned into her, aware that I was getting ready to kiss her. I didn’t give a damn about the street cleaner or the couple strolling behind us. I saw her lips and wanted to feel the firmness of her mouth, taste the margarita on her tongue.

I bent toward her. She tilted her chin and for a second I felt like I was tumbling off the bridge. Her mouth was sweet and warm. My hands circled her back, pressing her against me. She aligned her body, fitting her curves into the open spaces against me. I wanted her. She started to purr and I knew I had to get her back upstairs.

“Come on.” I tucked my hand around her waist, walking next to her.

“It’s really beautiful down here.” She stopped in front of the gate that took us through the lobby entrance of the hotel.

“If I haven’t said it enough, I think you’re beautiful.”

“You might have mentioned it.”

“I’m probably going to mention it again.” I unlocked the gate, and offered her my hand. The steps were uneven and some were covered in moss.

“I wish I could rewrite my feature article on you.”