Love Is Overdue (4 page)

“
Two Egg
McMuffins, hash browns, and a medium coffee,” I read out
loud.

“
No, the other
side,” he instructed me, smiling at my amusement. “Call me or text
me or whatever…” He started backing up toward the back door leading
to his kitchen. “I’m usually outta here by nine during the week so
let me know what night work for you and maybe we can go grab
another drink somewhere...”

I smiled. “That sounds
great.”

And for a good while after
the door shut behind him I still stood there, grinning like an
idiot, completely blown away by everything that was happening to
me.

Ω

Two
nights later we arranged to meet for drinks at
The Irish Heather
in Gastown. I had scrambled last minute to have Aunt Teresa
agree to stay the night. The last thing I wanted was to have to
ditch out early from our date to be home for my normal “curfew” of
eleven pm.

I got there early and took a
seat in a secluded corner so we could have ample space and privacy.
I ordered a glass of red wine and settled back to wait for him. As
soon as I clicked on my phone and noticed he was five minutes late
I glanced up and saw Ben casually making his way past the bar and
through the sparse crowd that had already gathered there. My heart
jumped when I noticed how amazing he could clean up. He was dressed
casually in a fitted button-down baby-blue shirt that showed off
his upper-body perfectly and a nice pair of black jeans that hung
so temptingly low on his hips as always. His dreads were tied back
as usual. I noticed a number of female heads turn as he passed,
making it obvious I was not the only one that could see how
unbelievably sexy this man was.

He smiled as he pulled out
the chair next to me and sat down. “You been waiting long?” he
asked, but didn’t wait for a response as his eyes moved from my
face to my cleavage and back up again. “That’s a nice
dress...”

I laughed softly. “Thank
you...and no, I just got here. I hope I got us a good table – what
you think?”

He turned and glanced around
briefly. “Perfect...”

I took a breath and fixed my
eyes on him again. “You smell really good.” I had to say it. There
was just something about a man who knew how to wear cologne just
right.

He looked back over at me.
“Really...” He said it softly, not quite in the form of a
question.

I smiled. “Yes, really. What
is it?”

He hesitated briefly, his
eyes dropping to my chest again. “What you mean?” He seemed
confused.

“
Your cologne,” I
clarified, amused at the fact that he was suddenly the one tripping
over his words.

He smiled. “I’m sorry – but
you really shoulda wore a scarf or somethin’ ‘cause am gettin’ real
distracted right now.” Then his eyes fixed on mine again. “Armani,”
he said simply.

My mouth fell open. “Damn.
You’re not shy,” I noted.

He let out a little sexy
laugh. “I know. And obviously, neither are you.” He gestured with
his eyes again.

“
Come on!” I
couldn’t help a little laugh with him, but took a self-conscious
glance down at myself. “It’s not that low.” I looked around the
room. “And you’re the only one staring, you know,” I pointed
out.

He smiled. “I’m not
complaining.” He nodded at my glass. “So what are we drinking,
Gabriela?”

“
A cabernet
sauvignon,” I told him. “It’s Chilean.”

The waitress came by and Ben
ordered a pint of Guiness and a half-litre of my wine for
me.

He leaned back in his chair
after our waitress left with our order and focused his attention
back on me. “So how was your day? Your week finally
through...”

I nodded. “I know... My day
was good. So far,” I added.

Ben glanced at his watch.
“Yes, we have another two hours to go...so w’happen at midnight?
You don’t turn into a pumpkin or anything, right?”

I laughed. “Now that was a
bad joke...but no.”

He smiled. “Sorry...my charm
start wearin’ off, I know. Am not used to this.”

I was confused. “To
what?”

“
Sittin’ across
from such a beautiful woman.”

I gave him a suspicious
look. “Why do I find that so hard to believe?”

“
I’m not sure,”
he admitted. “I work a lot. I don’t really have time for many
extra-curricular activities...”

“
So what are you
saying?” I was still confused. “You don’t date?”

He shook his head slowly.
“Nope.”

“
Ever?” I was
finding it very hard to take him seriously.

“
Well...it’s been
a very long time,” he said then. “When I open my restaurant I told
myself if am gonna make it I have to make this my life – good or
bad, it’s all or nothing – I just live and breathe the business,
and that don’t really come natural for me because I told you
before, am not a businessman. But you know...when you passionate
about something you find a way to throw yourself into it completely
– you just forget about everything else. Including women.” He
smiled apologetically. For some reason his explanation made my
heart race even faster.

I nodded slowly, recovering
myself. I did understand in a way. But not in any way I was ready
to talk about – at least not yet.

“
So what about
you?” His question caught me off-guard.

“
Me?” I looked
up.

“
Yeah you,” he
said in that slow sexy way of his. “When last you been out with a
man?”

“
Hmmm...” I
thought. “A few months...I mean, just casually...I don’t
know...nothing serious.”

“
Why is that?” he
wanted to know.

“
Well...” I
sighed. “Men can be very difficult.”

He raised his eyebrows, an
amused look on his face. “How are we difficult?”

I took a sip of my wine.
“Men don’t like to admit what they really want. They just like to
play games – and I don’t really have time for that.”

“
What do we
really want?” He looked terribly interested.

“
Hmmm...let’s
see...” I decided to take a chance. “Well, I don’t know...a man
will tell you a whole bunch of garbage about any and everything but
will never tell you all he wants is sex. And so to me, it’s just
one big waste of time.”

He kept giving me that
intense look. He looked to be debating what I had just said. “I
see...so you saying you prefer to date a man who doesn’t want
sex?”

I smiled. “No. I just wish
men would just come out and be straight about what they want. Booty
call. Relationship. Whatever. Just be honest. And then I can decide
what I want...does that make sense?”

He looked a little puzzled.
“I’m not sure...I’m not like that so I can’t say...” He looked to
be pondering the thought. “I mean, if I just want to fuck a woman
am gonna come straight out and say it.”

I caught my breath. “You
are?”

“
Of course.
‘Cause I already told you, I’m a busy guy – I don’t have time to
beat around da bush about anything really, least of all
sex...”

“
I see...” I
paused. “But I thought you don’t date.”

He kind of laughed. “Who’s
talkin’ about dating? I’m talkin’ about sex – that’s not the same
thing.”

“
Hmmm...” I
nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

He was looking at me. “Can I
be honest with you?”

I braced myself. “Of
course.”

“
You sure?” He
was giving me an out.

I decided against taking it.
I wanted to know what he was going to say. “I’m sure.”

“
Well...” He
leaned back again, watching me closely. “The first day I saw you in
the restaurant...from the first moment I saw you, I already knew I
wanted to fuck you.”

I caught my breath at his
directness but decided to let him finish.

He didn’t take his eyes off
me. “I mean...you...when I look at you I just see everything that I
like. It’s not every day I see a woman that take my breath away
like you do... And knowing me, am always straight up and honest
‘bout everything so am just telling you all this right now
because...as nice as it would be…am not just gonna try and fuck
you. I knew that from the first day too. First, because I don’t
think that’s how you operate and second because I prefer to get to
know you instead... And I don’t know why, but...it just something
am feeling...” He picked up his pint and took a sip, still watching
me. “So if you used to a lot of men feeding you a bunch of shit
about what their true intentions are then I think I should just put
it out there... am not gonna bullshit you.”

My heart was going a mile a
minute again. I had never heard a man talk to me like that. I was
falling – hard. And it scared me.

“
So...what about
you?”

“
Me?” I tried to
regain my composure.

He smiled again. “I told you
my intentions so I want to know yours.”

I had never been asked that
question before. I took a small sip of my wine and looked at him.
Now it was my turn to be bold.

“
What if I told
you my intentions are just to fuck you?” I told myself it was only
the wine talking...

He took a moment to
contemplate it. Then he nodded slowly. “Then I would tell you to go
ahead and take care of the cheque while I go call us a
cab.”

I laughed. “That was funny.
You’re on again.”

He smiled. “Thank
you.”

“
I like you
though,” I admitted. “There’s just something about you – maybe it’s
the chef thing – there’s nothing sexier that a man who can cook.”
The wine seemed to be having a premature effect on me.

He seemed pleased though.
“Nothing?” He raised his eyebrows.

I smiled. “It’s a big one,”
I assured him. “Also...” I paused. “I mean, I don’t know if you
remember but...you didn’t freak out when I told you how I live with
my mom. Most men are turned off by that or something but...for
me...that’s just the way it is. So relationships don’t really come
easy for me.”

I
bit my lip.
Relationships.
I couldn’t believe I’d said
that.

He was giving me that deep
piercing look of his again. “Your mom is sick. That must not be
easy.”

I shook my head slowly.
“It’s not. I mean, some days are better than others... Some days
she can get around a lot easier and we can just cook dinner
together or watch a movie and talk or go to the park...and then
some days she can’t even get out of bed... I actually lost my last
job because she had a really bad spell and I missed too much time.”
I shrugged. “So yeah...anyway...sorry. Bad topic.”

But Ben didn’t look
bothered. He was just watching me so closely. And then he reached
out and pushed a piece of hair from my face. It was just so tender.
He didn’t say a word.

I met his eyes then. “Are
you always like this?”

That caught him slightly
off-guard. “Like what?”

I smiled. “I don’t know.
Calm. You’re just so laid-back...even the other day when the
water-main broke you were just so...relaxed.”

He laughed at that. “That’s
just all the weed I smoke,” he teased me. “But I don’t know...some
things just not worth it. Others are. But if you asking me if I can
get pissed off about shit, the answer is yes.”

I smiled. “So then you are
human.”

He nodded. “Of course.
People can piss me off. But not things. Or circumstances not in our
control.”

“
What about your
daughter?” I wondered.

I thought about Lazaro, my
brother and I, as children. I pictured my mother’s second husband,
Raoul, and his pension for whipping us at every little childhood
misdeed and act of rebellion. Skinned knees, spilled milk, sibling
squabbles. My experience with paternal figures in my life was far
from patient and understanding.

He thought about my
question. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “As soon as she start
getting comfortable enough to misbehave I have to send her home to
her mother.”

“
Do you get along
with her?”

“
Who?”

“
Your baby-mama,”
I joked.

He
smiled. “Better than I used to...but the worst part ain’t even
that. A few months ago she move her man in with her, so...maybe
it’s not rational, and as far as I know there nothing wrong with
the guy but...
Fuck.
” He sucked his teeth,
in that sexy way Caribbean men were known for. “You wanna see me
get pissed off? Then just keep me on that topic...”

I smiled. “Well, we don’t
want that. But if it’s any consolation...when I was about your
daughter’s age my mom got married again. Couldn’t fucking stand
him. And three years later she dumped his ass – happiest day of my
life.”

He laughed. “Okay, so all is
not lost...I like that.”

I nodded. “Me too.” I took
another sip of wine. “This is good...”