Chapter 13

Both adults slept well that night, unbothered by feelings of guilt. What they had shared had been intense enough to break through some of the social barriers that had been erected, either by personal experiences they had gone through, or by the culture in which both were raised.

Not that either took what had happened for granted. They did not. Both were a little anxious the next morning, when Bob arrived. There was some residual embarrassment about the passion each had exposed, the night before.

But Curtis's welcome for the big, furry-faced visitor helped remediate that discomfort, and by the time a breakfast of pancakes, sausage and eggs was finished, the mood was again light. Neither had forgotten the feelings that each had, and which both thought might be a little bit too strong, so soon after meeting in person, but neither felt like those feelings were going to cause problems.

Of course, the level of relaxation they felt could only add to the passion that was building in each of them.

Personal control wasn't the only thing that helped them manage things, though. They had a full day of sightseeing planned, and that helped too, because it kept them in public. Having Curtis with them also helped.

It was an interesting day, as they went to Garden of the Gods, and drove among the monolithic rocks left over by some past fit of geologic anger. That upheaval had caused massive changes in the landscape, which were then followed by eons of slow abrasion by wind and weather. In many ways, it represented their relationship, which resulted from rapid, almost violent changes, mixed with small events that slowly, but surely, were leading them to something that would change their lives forever.

Much of that was not processed by their conscious minds. The level of comfort they felt in each other's presence caused subliminal effects. That Riley was now comfortable resting her hand on his thigh most of the time, was the conscious result. That he craved that touch was also in the conscious mind.

They also went to Seven Falls that day. Like Garden of the Gods, the multiple stepped falls represented their relationship in some ways. It was beautiful and stirring, visually. The climb to the top was taxing on the body. The little touches, as they helped each other up and down, including what was necessary to get Curtis to the top and back down, resulted in an unconscious acceptance that touching hands wasn't odd, that holding an elbow was normal.

As a result, when they walked back to their car, side by side, with Curtis riding on Bob's shoulders, and Riley's hand bumped into Bob's, it just seemed natural to interlace their fingers.

What had started as a fluke - her desire to tease the NSA ... and his desire to tease her in return - was like a slow motion version of a landslide.

While it was controlled by the laws of nature ... it was also, in one sense, out of control.

Bob got a good night kiss. It was a good one. He didn't mind going back to the hotel, because, in a very real sense, the kiss was enough. He could tell she'd meant it ... meaning she liked kissing him. And that simple fact took his satisfaction level up more than one notch.

That continued as, the next morning, when he got to the cabin for breakfast, she was wearing what he thought of as "The genie shirt" again.

"My favorite of your shirts," he sighed, looking her up and down with no trace of embarrassment.

She looked down, and then back up at him, arching one eyebrow.

"Oh yes. Now I remember. I'd forgotten you've seen this one before. And now I remember what your other wishes were. It appears you've gotten two of them!"

"Two down, one to go," he said.

"As I recall, your third wish was very naughty," she said. "And Curtis is here."

He hung his head. "This is the story of my life," he sighed. "I get so close, and yet I'm so far away."

If you've never been to a pot luck dinner at a church, or neighborhood gathering, you should go. First of all, everybody brings their best to such a meal. They want others to ask for the recipe, or at least express how good something tasted.

But another reason for going is because watching people at those events can be education and entertaining. Watching what people do with dessert is an example.

Normally, in a more formal setting, dessert isn't brought out until after the meal is finished. But at a pot luck, there is normally a wide variety of luscious-looking dessert dishes spread out, right there with, or at least next to, the rest of the food.

Some people are so ingrained in the custom of "dessert last" that they won't even take dessert when they get the rest of their food. They wait until they are finished eating, and then go get dessert. But those are the amateurs, and they will soon learn that when they get to the dessert table, the best stuff is already gone.

Of the veterans who take dessert along with the main course, there are generally two types. Some eat dessert first. They just can't wait to sample the delicious treat(s) they have snared. Those people will usually get two or three different kinds of dessert, wanting to luxuriate in different tastes. The others, whether they take more than one type of dessert or not, will wait, with that tempting treat right there, waiting for them, calling out to them to take a taste. They enjoy that dessert throughout the entire meal, anticipating the pleasure of indulging ... later.

Delayed gratification can result in incredible sensations, when one finally gives up and takes a bite. The diner may even eat more slowly, delaying things even more because they know that, once the dessert is eaten, the meal is over.

That behavior can also be seen in those who are falling in love. It's not an analogy as much as something driven by the subconscious. Both want intimacy on a scale vastly larger than interlaced fingers while they walk across the bridge at Royal Gorge. Each hopes that the time will come when her hand can slide languidly from his thigh to the bulge in the front of his pants as they drive along some road, made breathtakingly beautiful by the flaming gold of aspens in the fall.

But part of the joy, and excitement, and almost dizziness of falling in love is the anticipation of the first touch that is patently, blatantly sexual. That touch signals the beginning of the consumption of dessert, and mouths can water as that anticipation builds.

Kisses don't count. Even kisses where tongues play against each other, and their slippery texture is welcomed into the other's mouth. Those are akin to the visual appearance of a thick slice of chocolate cream pie, or whatever dessert makes your mouth water. Kisses like that make you aware that the best is yet to come ... and is out of the oven and ready to be consumed.

This philosophy played out over the next week as, each day, Bob and Riley went places together and got to know each other better. Their comfort level with each other built until, for Riley, it was hard to remember what it was like for Bob not to be around. Bob's view of things was a little different, but only because he was having a hard time getting used to the idea that the hottest woman he'd ever met was interested in him. Really interested.

Whether it was subconscious or not, or a mixture of the two, they delayed their gratification for an entire week. Quite honestly, Riley could have accelerated things, and Bob would have been a willing player. And it's possible that, had Bob become more aggressive, Riley would have responded in an accepting manner. But both allowed the chemistry to progress at its own pace. And, luckily, that pace suited them both quite well.

Normally, they spent each morning together, eating breakfast and then going somewhere. Sometimes they took Curtis with them, and sometimes not. They generally ate out for lunch, and then Bob took them back to the cabin, where the afternoon was normal for them, with Curtis at Bessie's and Riley working. While that happened, during that first week, Bob went out on his own. He visited Cheyenne mountain, for example, where his security clearance, and his explanation of why he was there (on vacation ... just wanted to see what the things he couldn't see from a satellite were like), along with a phone call that verified both his identity and status, got him the grand tour of NORAD Headquarters.

He also went back to some places they had been together, to spend more time contemplating something, such as the huge, red rocks that comprised Garden of the Gods.

Then Riley prepared supper for them, or they went out on Bob's dime. After that they sat and talked, while Curtis did the things little boys like to do with paper and crayons, or with their toys. Bob got "roped into" playing Chutes and Ladders, and Go Fish, and several games he'd never heard of. Twice they watched a movie, during which all three sat on the couch. The first time Curtis sat between them. He wasn't as interested in the second movie, during which Bob sat with his arm around Riley, as she leaned against him, her hand on his thigh.

There were more kisses, but each one seemed, somehow, like it was their first. What that meant was that the kisses were soft, and tender ... and generally brief. It was more a rubbing of lips together, than a statement of passion. Not that there was no passion. The passion built fires in both of them that would lead, in his second week there, to a much more ... intimate ... relationship.

But that first week was all about anticipation, whether the two of them knew it or not. That week gave them the foundation that notified Riley that she liked this man a lot, perhaps more than she'd ever liked any other man, and cemented in Bob the idea that he had found the woman no other woman would ever be able to measure up to. It wasn't that they started thinking about an extended future together. Those days were yet to come. Imagine looking at your dream car, and thinking, "I can't afford it yet ... but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get a shot at buying it."

It was quite like the slow buildup to an orgasm. It feels delicious. It's wonderful beyond the ability to describe it.

And then, suddenly, almost without warning, you're over the edge and everything is crazy, as the ecstasy threatens to drown you in joy.

The way it happened was that, on the second Tuesday he was there, Riley collected the breakfast dishes and said, "Hey, I know we were going to go out today, but I forgot I need to call a client, and it has to be in the morning."

"No problem," said Bob. "I can go find something to do."

"Or, you could stay here with me," she said.

"I can do that too," he said, smiling. "In fact, I like that idea better than anything else."

"Curtis can go up to Bessie's, and when I'm finished with business, we can decide what to do then."

"Sounds good to me," he said.

Then, while she was on the phone, he stepped out back. It was the first time he'd been in the back yard since arriving, and seeing the chaise lounge that was part of his first memories of Riley, he examined it. The nylon fibers were frayed in places, and looked like they'd feel scratchy. He thought about buying her a new one, but this was probably the wrong time of year to find things like that in the stores.