Minnesota

                                Passion

Constantina wiped down the counters, cringing at the smell of bleach. I got to get the bleach/water ratio down. She hummed while she cleaned. It’s been a while since she felt like humming. The long and stressful last two weeks were behind them. Nena was upstairs, her health almost back to normal. Her physical health, at least. Connie had refrained from probing Nena about what she remembered. I need to press her about that camera. I’m certain there wasn’t one when I got there. Still.

            She glanced up. Detective Burrows stood outside, staring at her through the large window. She didn’t recognize him right away. She’s only seen him wearing suits. Today, he wore a black, long-sleeved T-Shirt, jeans and sneakers. His green eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

            He waved at her. She unlocked the door and stepped outside. “Hey.” She said, unsure if she should ask him in. If he came for food, he was out of luck.

            “Cleaning up?” He took off his glasses and glanced down at her. He was at least a head taller. And she was not a short woman.

            She nodded. “If you want to talk to Nena …” she began. He shook his head.

            “I was just walking around, enjoying the cooler air. It’s been rapidly cooling since the storm a couple of weeks ago.”

            Connie laughed.

            “How’s that funny?” His eyebrows raised. They don’t look as bushy and wild as they did the last time.

            “Rapidly cooling down isn’t what I’d call it.” She tilted her head. “A couple of years ago, we had a heat wave in the entire state of Washington. Temperatures reached unprecedented 113 Degrees. Broke all records. One day, I was driving home, the car thermometer said it was 117, after driving for ten minutes it read 100, another ten minutes, 90. By the time I got home, it was raining sheets.”

            He nodded. “Can’t beat that, I guess.” He put his hands in his back pocket. “You’re from Washington State?” She nodded. “What brings you here?” She sighed, looking inside the Café.

            “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” He said, almost blushing.

            She shook her head. “No, I’m done, just need to put a couple of things away and lock the door.”

            “In that case, want to join me on my walk? Or is Nena waiting for you?”

            She glanced down on her shoes. Birkenstocks, fashionable, but easy on her feet. She could walk in those. “Nena is upstairs, talking to Thomas about hospital bills, insurance and getting counseling. Lars is with them. She needs him for emotional support. I’d say he’s like a father to her, except …” She trailed off, not finishing the sentence. “Figured I’d close up, give them time. Give me two minutes?” He nodded.

Five minutes later, they walked down the street toward the Chinese park a few blocks East.

“I’m here on vacation, of sorts.” She answered his earlier question. “I got divorced a few months back. My friend decided I need to get out.” She heard him inhale sharply. She looked at him. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, I just didn’t think you were divorced, a woman like you …” He looked her up and down.

She laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.” She sighed. “Monique told me that men would automatically assume the worst and cautioned me to not say that I’m recently divorced.” She glanced up at him. “Until now, I didn’t believe her.”

“It’s actually scary, knowing you’re available.” He admitted. Connie squinted. What do you say to something like that?

She changed the subject. “Well, and then I wound up in this mess. It’s why I haven’t left for New York yet. To make sure Nena is okay.”

“You’re going to New York?” Burrows beamed. “I’m from New York, East Side. Do you want me to give you some pointers?”

            Connie laughed. “I’m staying with my son, he lives there. No doubt he already has a list of things for me to see. I do want to see some of the Museums and art galleries.”

            “You have a son?”

            “And a daughter.” She nodded. “She’s in Germany right now, getting her degree in Psychology.”

            They reached the park and walked among Bonsai trees that were neatly placed around bridges and Chinese style miniature houses. A gardener walked about, bending here and there, plucking weeds, clipping grass.

            “They do everything by hand here.” He whispered in her ear. “The dedication is admirable.” She looked up at him, and she caught a faint hint of his cologne. A fresh, woody, smell she couldn’t place. She fought the impulse to take his hand. Would his hand feel warm, steady?

            She suddenly laughed. He frowned at her. “I just realized I don’t even know your first name. Or do you want me to call you ‘detective’?”

            “I don’t think that’s necessary.” He grinned. “Thomas.” He extended his hand, formally introducing himself. She took it. His large fingers gently wrapped around hers. Connie blushed.

            “Are you flirting with me?” He winked at her.

            “Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s been so long …”

            Thomas laughed. “In that case, allow me to take you to dinner. I know it’s early, but there’s this Greek restaurant close by. Do you like Greek?” She nodded.

            Thomas hadn’t relinquished her hand and they continued their walk around the park hand in hand.

            “You seem to know this area well. Have you been here long? Are you directly from New York?” Connie hadn’t held hands with anyone since her kids were little and it took her a few minutes to get used to it again. And I just now realized that Lance had never held hands. She swallowed, wondering why she thought about this now.

            Thomas glanced at her, noticing the shift. “I moved up here three months ago.” He looked at her again, wondering. “Since then, I’ve been walking around, getting to know the place.” He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “It helps me think.

            “You okay?” He gazed at her.

            She nodded. I don’t want to talk about Lance. “I guess there’s a lot of moving parts in a job like yours. Like a puzzle.”

            He laughed. “Yeah.” They had reached the restaurant. He opened the door for her.

            “Thomas, how are you?” A young man greeted them. “You brought a guest?” The waiter smirked. Connie blushed.

            “Michal, be nice and tell me my usual table is available.”

            The young man waved them through, smiling at Connie. “This is the first time he’s bringing someone. How exciting.”           

            Thomas growled at Michal. “You’re being a busy body.” He led Connie to a booth in the back. “This is more a hole in the wall than a restaurant, but they’re food is excellent. Everything’s fresh.” Thomas sat next to her at the corner table. Despite the early dinner hour, there were two other couples present. “I’m sorry about Michal, he can …”

“It’s okay, I like spunky people.”

Michal brought water, a bottle of red wine and menus. “It’ll get crowded in a couple of hours and if you want to eat here, now’s the time.” Michal had the tanned tone traditional for Greek natives, but his English was flawless. Second generation, probably.

Thomas winced. “Not another party. I got to sleep at some point.”

Connie frowned. “You’re a party person?”

He shook his head. “No, but my apartment is upstairs, and they keep me up.”

Michal grinned. “That’s why we start early. We know we have to close it down by ten p.m. Not a wise decision to annoy a police detective.” He walked away.

Thomas put the menu aside without glancing at it. “Guess I’ll have to buy a house in the suburbs.” He shrugged.

Connie laughed. “Don’t count on that being a quiet neighborhood. Suburbia has parties, too.”

Thomas put one of his arms around her shoulder while pouring wine with the other. “If you’ll trust me with the food, I’ll recommend the platter. It’s for two and has gyros, souvlaki, calamari, lots of tzatziki. And fresh bread.” He handed her the wine glass.

“Good, those are all things I eat.” They toasted and Connie realized how relaxed she felt. You don’t know this guy and you’re allowing him to touch you. And I’m pretty sure it’s no coincidence he’s taking you to a restaurant that’s close to his apartment. Connie shrugged.

I’m pretty sure I can deal with him. If you can handle a psychopath, you can handle a chubby detective. And for the first time she realized she had stopped feeling guilty about it. You’ve done nothing wrong.

But she didn’t feel the need to defend herself. Thomas’ hand on her shoulder felt warm, felt right. She fought the urge to move closer to him. Then she realized how silly this was. He was flirting with her, and she wanted to flirt with him. If that meant they wind up in bed together, in the conveniently located apartment upstairs, so be it. It’s been years since I had sex and the last few times were boring. She wanted to find out if Thomas was different. Would he just use her, or would he care about her needs?

Connie, before she drank too much wine, cuddled up to Thomas. She put her arm around his waist. If I’m doing this, I want to do it sober. I don’t want to wake up wondering if being drunk was the only reason I did it.

Thomas smiled at her, squeezed her shoulder. His wine still untouched. He leaned toward her, his lips finding hers. Instantly, their warmth mingled. She forgot they were in public, her hand around his waist felt warm flesh. His tongue found hers and his grip strengthened. She tasted him, warm, strong, his kiss hungry.

“Well, Thomas, I didn’t think you had it in you …” Michal interrupted their intimate moment.

They both blushed and pulled apart. He winked at her. “Got carried away.” He smirked. He looked at her. “Should we order?” But that’s not what he was asking.

She sighed and shook her head. “Maybe we can take the wine with us.”

They left the wine at the restaurant, neither one wanting anything else.

Thomas’ apartment was on the third floor. It was small, like all apartments in the older buildings. A kitchenette, living room, bathroom. They didn’t talk as Thomas opened the door, or when they walked straight into the bedroom. Connie didn’t care to see what color the bedsheets was. She cared that it was a queen-sized bed.

They’ve still held hands when the apartment door closed behind them. Thomas’ lips explored Connie while her hands were busy unzipping his pants. Somewhere between the front door and the bedroom they had taken off their shoes.

“I bought these for us.” From somewhere, Thomas produced condoms. She neither knew where they had come from, nor did she care.

In this moment, she loved him. She couldn’t wait to feel him next to her, on top of her, inside of her.

She threw her hands around his neck, smiling, grateful he cared enough to have bought condoms. She kissed him, intense, demanding. Thomas reciprocated, holding nothing back. He lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around him.

She giggled because she realized they both were already naked. “When did we lose our clothes?” She whispered, loving the feeling of his erection pressing against her vagina. I’m so ready for this.

“Hopefully, not before we were alone.” He laughed, a deep baritone voice sending shivers down her spine.

She felt the bed beneath her as he laid her down. His hands slid upward while his mouth made its way down. Connie sighed as he pulled her hair with one hand and opened her legs further. She reached for the condoms on the nightstand, opened the package.

“Not yet.” He whispered right before his mouth found her clit. His strong hands caressed her while she reached her orgasm.

Breathing heavily, she pulled him upward, kissing him greedily. Thomas smiled, “give me a second,” he whispered as he put on the condom.

The second felt like minutes. She screamed with pleasure as another explosion rocked her when he entered her. She held on to him, moving with him, their lips finding each other, kissing, rocking, sweating, as their rhythm became faster until they were both spent.