Jennifer Lohmann - Love On Her Terms

“How long have you lived in Missoula?”

“Three years.”

“Is that long enough for you to be able to show me some cool places? Places I wouldn’t discover unless I had also lived here for three years?”

She had tried to make her question airy—and tried for a light smile to match—but she could see in the cock of his head that he was trying to understand if she was truly asking or being flirty. Hell, she didn’t know if she was looking for suggestions from someone who’d lived in the city longer than she had or if she was hunting around for the likelihood of a date. She’d promised herself that from now on she’d get to know someone casually before getting serious. No more rushing into relationships or hopes or dreams. Rushing led to hurts, and she was trying to cut down on hurts.

But emotional caution just wasn’t and never had been a strength of hers.

“I know some places,” he said finally, each word carefully measured out as if he was also trying to figure out what she was asking and what he was offering. “And I know locals who know more places.”

“I’ve not met many locals. The university seems to be full of transplants like me, at least among the professors.” Different universities had different cultures and different feels, but the hodgepodge of people from around the globe remained the same. The academic job market was tough, especially for someone who studied a language, and everyone took what they could get.

“But before I ask you for more favors,” she said, giving them both an out, “I should probably get you that beer I promised. I’ll make you dinner, too, if you’re interested. You helped me out a lot today, and feeding you is the least I can do.”

Again he looked at her, obviously evaluating her words with a slow blink.

“It’s just dinner, I promise,” she said with a low laugh to cover the awkwardness. “I’m not trying to put a down payment on future yard work.”

He snorted. “I don’t believe that, but I also don’t care. Give me a chance to shower first, and then dinner sounds great.”

“A shower is a good idea.” Maybe cleaning the dirt off her body would clear the confused dust out of her mind. And, if she decided she really was trying to explore the potential for a date, at least she wouldn’t be worried about armpit smell.

“Give me at least a half an hour to get myself cleaned up, and you can come over anytime after that. I’ll leave the door unlocked, but give a knock so I don’t jump when you walk in the door.”

“Deal,” he said. Then he smiled, and his face and shoulders relaxed. Hers did, too.

* * *

FRESHLY SHOWERED AND in clean clothes, Levi stood in his kitchen watching the clock. It had been twenty minutes since he’d left Mina’s front yard, and he figured he had ten minutes to kill before he could walk through her front door without risking her still being in the shower. He emptied his dishwasher, then turned his attention to the paper still lying open to the astrology section.

He was supposed to try to embrace a new future today. If Kimmie were alive, she was supposed to go outside and garden. Not that he believed in the nonsense of the stars covering his fate, but today’s horoscope seemed uncomfortably close to the truth. Kimmie couldn’t go outside and garden, but Levi was alive, and getting outside seemed good advice for all the living.

And then there was that new future...

Levi glanced up at the window to where Mina was out of the shower and closing her curtains. She didn’t look embarrassed at all as she caught him looking while she was wearing only her towel. Instead, she smiled and waved. He waved back, then reached up and closed his own blinds.

Dennis was right that maybe he should get out and explore the world of women. Brook was right that he should do so with more seriousness. He’d never imagined that he’d be in his midthirties and single. He’d been excited to marry Kimmie and talk about having kids. He’d wanted to settle down. He still wanted to. But it wouldn’t happen if he avoided women who seemed more interested in relationships than in just sex.

Mina didn’t have to be the one or even the maybe, and dinner tonight didn’t have to lead to anything more than friendly greetings between neighbors, but he’d never know unless he tried. Mina was the first woman he’d felt more than a sexual interest in since Kimmie, and she was at least a good place to start, even if she seemed impossibly young.

He sniffed at his shoulder, which smelled like dryer sheets and deodorant. He reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, draping it across the chair as he headed to the bathroom to shave. Cologne would be overkill—besides which, he didn’t own any—but shaving for a woman was a nice gesture, even if dinner was just dinner.

After his shave and before heading out the door, Levi stopped by the kitchen, folded up the paper and tossed it in the recycling bin before the stars carried him away from reality.

CHAPTER SIX

MINA WAS PUTTING the butternut squash and leeks into the oven to roast when she heard a knock at the front door, followed by a squeak of the hinges.

“Hello?” Levi called, his footsteps quiet and uncertain on her wood floors.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she called. “Head to the back. It’s a small house—you can’t miss me,” she said, shutting the oven door and grabbing a towel for her hands. Levi’s head stuck around the corner just as she was tucking the towel back on the oven handle.

He’d shaved. She was, momentarily, speechless. The sharp contours of his face and squareness of his chin were worth a moment of silence, but that wasn’t what stopped her tongue. Not only had he taken the time and effort to shave, but he was wearing nice jeans and a neat dark blue button-down that showed off a trim, muscular figure, especially with the sleeves rolled up and his forearms on display.

Levi had gone to some effort. Like this was a date.

“I feel underdressed,” she said, recovering her speech and looking down at her worn gray yoga pants and white tank top. Since she wanted to get the vegetables in to roast as quickly as possible, she’d just rinsed the sweat off her body. Barrettes and sweat were keeping her hair off her face, and shaving... Well, the state of her leg hair was better not considered. Probably for the best. Looking at him now, she needed to put brakes on her libido.

He shrugged. “You look fine to me” was all he said, but there was warmth in his eyes, so she brushed away her feelings about looking sloppy. “What’s for dinner?”

“Butternut-squash lasagna and a salad. It’s not a quick meal, but it’s one of my favorites, and I had all the stuff on hand. Plus, it’s filling after a long day of working outside.”

“No meat?” he asked with the disappointed face of a child who’s been denied candy.

“No.” She shook her head with a laugh. “I have sausages in the freezer, but they would have taken too long to defrost. The lasagna will be good, I promise, and if you miss the meat, I’ll make sure the sausages come out for the next time I cook you dinner.”

“Next time,” he said, his voice caressed with approval. “I like that idea. Where did you learn to cook?”

With that simple question, Mina eased into conversation, talking about cooking with her mom when she was a kid and some of the terrible food experiments and impossible diets she’d tried in both college and graduate school. “I don’t know how I found the time or energy to eat a raw food diet, but I managed it for six months.”

She didn’t mention that she’d tried many of these diets in an attempt to keep her flagging energy or stave off upset stomachs or to control all the other side effects of either HIV or the meds that kept her virus count low. Desperation over a chronic illness had been her motivation to prepare raw carrot crackers every week. Then there had been the macrobiotic diet. And the gluten-free one. And hopping back and forth between several other less popular options before she’d settled back into moderation and mostly vegetables.