with Mr. Stein’s. The older man patted Connor on the shoulder. “You have quite the shark of a future husband,” he told Sam. “I can’t recall the last time someone squeezed such an impressive percentage out of me.”
Mrs. Stein rolled her eyes. “Probably the last time you were four drinks deep before noon, love,” she said.
Connor excused them, and his hand returned to the small of her back. Sam blushed once again, unable to keep the flush out of her cheeks. But she couldn’t help it. Well, what do you expect? It’s not like you’ve had much time to yourself lately, what with work being so hectic. You’ve had no time to relax. Or release any of that tension.
She blushed deeper at the thought of getting herself off. Sam couldn’t remember the last time she’d masturbated, or made use of that little silver vibrator Emma had given her for Christmas. The thought of dildos terrified her, which Emma knew. That’s why the little bullet had been so perfect.
“You okay?” Connor whispered in her ear. She felt his thumb dip slightly lower down her back. It played at the waist of her dress.
“Yeah,” she said, and smiled up at him. A twinge between her legs intensified when she was reminded of how handsome he was. You better take care of yourself before you see him again, she thought. It’s not his fault he’s ridiculously gorgeous.
Besides, he’d made his feelings perfectly clear when he’d signed those papers. Who cares if he was checking you out before? If he even was! He wouldn’t be the first man to assess her and then pass her up. Men are visual creatures, that’s all.
Sam ate just the right amount at the luncheon. Enough to ward off any talks of her being too uptight to enjoy herself. However, it would be hard to overindulge at a so-called luncheon where the only food was walking appetizers. She could hardly fill up on the occasional bacon-wrapped date stuffed with goat cheese that happened to mosey by. For the most part, she depended on glasses of orange juice.
“This thing is about wrapped up,” Connor told her two hours after they arrived.
She nodded. “I think you’ve talked shop with just about everyone here.”
“You running out of compliments to give the old women?” he asked with a smile.
“Hardly,” she said. “I still have the one where I ask about their secret to such a youthful, glowing neck tucked away.”
“Shark liver oil,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“They use shark liver oil. It used to be a main ingredient in Preparation H in America, but now they have to import it from Canada. It smells disgusting, but apparently works.”
“Are you bullshitting me? How do you know this?”
He looked at her, surprised. “I thought everyone knew that. Isn’t that what your male model boy toys use to keep that perpetual glow of a prepubescent?”
“You’re so weird,” she said.
“You like it. Hey, are you hungry? Do you want to grab a meal somewhere that serves more than a bite at a time?”
“Ugh, yes, please. The only edible thing here were those dates.”
“You can’t blame the elderly. I think your taste buds disappear or something after a certain age.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as he lowered the top of the Mercedes and she wrapped her hair in a scarf.
“It’s a surprise,” he said with a wink.
“What is this place?” she asked as they rolled up to a simple, two-story red brick joint near Lincoln Park.
“You’ve never been to Kenny’s?” he asked, incredulous. “It’s the best barbeque in DC!”
The scent of the Southern-style BBQ permeated the air and made her mouth water. Connor ordered for them—brisket and ribs, collard greens, coleslaw and cornbread. “This is amazing,” she said as they sat on the patio with their cafeteria-style plastic trays. Finally, she felt comfortable enough to slide out of her heels.
“I’m happy to be the one to introduce you,” he said.
She licked the hickory sauce off her fingers and looked at him. Maybe there’s more to him than I thought. “Tell me something,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Anything. About you. I’d like to get to know my husband better.”
“Not much to tell,” he said. “You know I was a SEAL pretty much all of my adult life. I did a number of tours, saw the world—or, I should say, the parts most people don’t really want to see. I was engaged to Sandra for my last deployment, we broke up, what, three weeks ago now.”
“Three weeks?” she asked, shocked. “That’s it?”
“Well, I