She laughed.  “You hated it.  Well, thank you for bringing me, anyways.  I loved it, and even though I rarely let myself eat like that, it was so worth it.”

“Then I’m glad we went.”

She laughed again, a rich, happy laugh, the kind of laugh it felt good to listen to.  “Well, next time, we’ll have to pick your favorite kind of food, to make up for it.”

And just that easy, I felt like a bastard again.

I took her to the newest Cirque show, at the Aria.  Front row seats.  It was hard to get those day of, but I knew a guy.  Well, Turner did, but his guy was happy to hook me up, too.

The show was great, and after, we took a little walk around the casino, chatting about it.

I studied Lourdes as she spoke.  She had the loveliest thick, deep sable hair.  There were masses of it.  I’d admired it from the first time I met her, and I realized suddenly that she was what I’d always considered my type.  My wife had had dark, heavy hair, and deep mysterious eyes, as well.

When had it changed, my type?  Was it the bitterness of the divorce that had soured my preference, or had it happened with my developing feelings for a wild, too young blonde?

I was pretty certain it was the latter.

It was late when I dropped Lourdes off, and we’d started early.  Of course, a four-hour sixteen-course meal would make any night run long.  Still, the stubborn part of me was hoping Iris had been worrying for every minute of my absence.

Lourdes actually invited me in for a drink, but I politely declined.

She kissed me, and I held very still and let her.

It had to have lasted a full two minutes before she reluctantly pulled away.

Now I really felt like a bastard.  Just awful.

I wanted to take it back, to wash my mouth out with soap.

I didn’t let it show, saying as polite of a goodbye as I could manage.

I felt horrible the entire way home.  Just gross, disgusted with myself for using a friend.

She’d seemed to enjoy herself, seemed to hope for another date, though I hadn’t mentioned so much as calling her again.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Iris was up and watching TV in the guest bedroom we’d been using when I got back to the house.  She was lying on top of the covers, wearing nothing but a sheer white tank top and panties.

“How did it go?  Did you hit it off?” she asked, tone casual, not even bothering to look at me.

I wanted to throttle her.  “You know we didn’t.  It’s impossible to have a real date with one woman while being in love with another.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.  You keep telling me that love is much less important than this age difference.  Maybe the next date will go better.”

“I am not f**king doing that again.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.  I’m going out with the meathead tomorrow.  We’re going clubbing.  It seems age appropriate.”

My heart stopped.  “You can’t be serious.  I only went out with that woman because you said—”

“I was referring to tonight only.  You won’t sway me on this.  Did you kiss her?”

I started inching towards the bathroom.  I honestly thought I might throw up.

Oh God, that awkward kiss that I hadn’t even wanted.  What was it going to cost me?

“Will you kiss him if I say yes?”

She shot me a surprised look, the first time she’d looked remotely interested since I’d gotten home.  “Wow, how far did you guys go?  Should I be jealous?”

I cursed, and cursed, and got nothing back.  “We did not get far.  She invited me into her house for a drink, and I said no.  And I didn’t say I’d call her, or say we’d go out again.  If you’re keeping score, remember that tomorrow.”

“But you did kiss her.”

“She kissed me, and I didn’t stop her.  I was trying to be nice.”

She laughed, and it sounded almost bitter, for her.  I wanted to cover my ears.  She was always so sweet that it was near unbearable to listen to it turning sour.  “How nice you are.  Well, rest assured, I’ll be nice tomorrow, too.”

“Don’t, please,” I mouthed.

Why had I let Lourdes kiss me?  Had it been to get some small ounce of revenge on Iris for making me go through that?  Had I wanted her to be jealous?

Yes, that was it.

I felt like shit.

“How long of a kiss was it?”

“I don’t know.  I wasn’t timing it.”  Lies, lies, lies.

“Was there tongue?”

I shut my eyes tight, picturing the huge guy from the park getting to kiss her, to wrap his beefy arms around her.

It was so wrong.

I moved to her, ready to beg.  I crawled on the bed, burying my face in her belly.

She took pity on me and stroked my hair.

“It will be better if you just tell me.  I’d hate to err on the side of caution.”

“This is cruel.  You know that, right?  I didn’t want anything to do with this nonsense.”

“I didn’t tell you to let her kiss you.  There must have been something to it.  I wouldn’t have kissed anybody, if I’d gone out tonight.”

I wanted to pull my hair out in frustration.  “But you will now?”

“Yes, Dair, I will now.  Just like I take your words seriously, I take your actions to mean something.  You wanted us to try our own age.  I’m going to give mine at least as much effort as you did.”