19. Taran
I’m humming along to my dad”s playlist as I pull up to Lyra”s for our date. Stepping out of the car, I retrieve the bouquet of roses I got her from the backseat and straighten out my collar before I get to her door. I don”t know if I”ll ever get over the anticipation of seeing her, and this time it”s heightened. Tonight is our first date since she became officially single, and we had our first kiss. I want to make it a perfect night that sweeps her off her feet. When she opens the door, I”m struck dumb, like I always am when I look at her. Her purple curls bounce around her luminous face when she takes a step back to let me in. The radiance and confidence in her big smile is a shot of electricity to my chest. I”m not exaggerating when I say it truly looks like her eyes hold a galaxy of stars in them. Her warmth and confidence is such a fantastic contrast to how sky high her walls were when we first met, and it makes my heart quicken that she feels comfortable enough to let her guard down a little with me. My eyes do a slow, unabashed, perusal of her curve hugging red wrap dress before they go back up to meet hers.
“Take a picture, it”ll last longer,” she teases, her nose crinkling adorably in amusement.
“Just needed to take in how amazing you look, Firecracker. You”re stunning,” I tell her as I hand her the bouquet.
She ducks her head into the blooms to hide her blushing smile as she murmurs her thanks, so I get into her space and lift her face with my fingers under her chin.
“I mean it. You stole my breath just now when you opened the door.”
“You look amazing, too, Taran,” she says with a shy smile, her eyes still glittering.
She lets me in, and as soon as the door shuts, we”re kissing with intensity. Her plush lips open on a groan as our tongues slide together. I crowd her against the door and bring my hands down to her perfect, round ass, giving it a healthy squeeze. We keep making out for another couple of minutes before I reluctantly pull away.
“If we keep going like this, I”m not going to want to leave.” I”m practically panting as I say it.
“Dinner might be overrated at this moment.” Her reply is just as breathless as mine, and I can”t help but smile about it.
“Come on. Let”s get some food, and then we”ll see where the night goes,” I tell her as I drop another quick, chaste kiss to her lips.
“We”ll see where the night goes is very cute code for ‘I hope we can pick up where this left off later’,” she says with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Never pretended I was subtle,” I reply with my own wicked grin as I give her ass a little tap, which makes her let out the cutest yelp. She levels me with a playful glare as she goes to the kitchen to put the bouquet in a vase. Then she grabs her coat before taking my hand to head out.
“So, where are you taking me?” she asks as we hit the road.
“It”s not too far, about 30 minutes away. I found a really nice Lebanese place called Sa”ada a little north of here. I introduced you to Salvadoran pupusas, so I was hoping you could show me all about Lebanese food.” I shoot her a grin as I see her eyes light up. There are those gorgeous galaxies again. Then she whips out her phone as she asks me to spell the name of the restaurant, and a minute later she makes a triumphant sound.
“I love the name, it means Happiness. The menu looks amazing!”
“What are your favorites that your Nana made? We should get them if they have them.”
“She made the most incredible tabbouleh, stuffed grape leaves, beef kibbeh, you name it. Those three are my favorites. They have it all on their menu!”
“Now I feel ignorant. I”ve had stuffed grape leaves at a Greek place, are they similar?”
She nods. “Lebanese and Greek food have a lot of crossover since it”s all Mediterranean based. Lebanon is right across the sea from Cyprus.”
She talks me through what the dishes are like. There is a lot of heavenly sounding spice, bulgur wheat, and savory meat contrasted with sweet dried fruits and nuts like in the beef kibbeh. I love seeing her so animated and excited, and I sure hope the food lives up to her expectations. The atmosphere as we drive is just fun, easy, and the conversation flows as we get to know each other better little by little. I can get a much better sense of how much she worshipped her Nana from how she talks about the way she cooked and lived. She tells me the cutest story about how they would go to the beach when she was little, and her Nana would float like a dolphin and let her ride on her back. I tell her about my dad”s love for classic rock and the faces he would make while belting out the songs to me, and she laughs her head off when I imitate him. We play his playlist and rock out together, and I”m ecstatic that she”s also into classic rock. She especially loves the British bands, which doesn”t shock me given what I know about her. I get her completely cracking up demonstrating the faces my dad would make when Immigrant Song comes on. When we pull up to the restaurant, I”m almost reluctant to get out of the car and burst this little bubble we”ve been in for almost 30 minutes. We simply stare at each other for a moment or two, just taking each other in with heavy gazes, not saying anything but communicating so much. Then her stomach growls comically and we burst out laughing.
“Alright, that was quite the hint. Let”s get you fed,” I tell her, still laughing, planting a quick kiss on her. We get out of the car and she leads the way into the restaurant, our hands interlaced. The place really is nice, with tasteful decor, ambient music, and the most amazing smells from the food. Red and purple accents are everywhere among the white linens, tables, and chairs, with coordinating colors in the artwork on the wall. There”s a sleek bar along the back wall with intricate bottles and an antique looking hookah decorating the shelves. I give my name to the hostess and she seats us right away. Once we”re situated at our table, Lyra turns to me with a delighted look on her face.
“This place is gorgeous,” she beams.
“I’m glad you like it,” answering her smile with my own as I take her hand to give it a kiss.
She opens the drink menu, deciding on a glass of Arak, which she tells me is a very traditional drink of the region that will go well with the beef kibbeh she wants. I stick to getting a beer since I”m driving.
“How”s your mom feeling?” she asks as we sip on the water we were given.
“She”s doing much better. Seth, Sienna and the kids get in tomorrow afternoon, so she”s excited to have everyone home.”
“I can imagine! It has to be hard for her that they”re across the country.”
“It is, but thank goodness for video chats. I think it”s hard for him too, which is why we fought. He loves his life out there, but he gets homesick. Seth and I talked about making sure we get better about planning visits.”
“I love that. It”s so bizarre to say this, but I don”t understand sibling bonds. I have three, but I”ve never been close with my two brothers, and my sister has always been more like my other mother since she”s so much older. Gina is probably the closest to a sibling bond that I have,” she muses.
“It”s not bizarre. Every family is different. Carlo and his family are just as much family to me as my own family,” I tell her with a shrug.
She hums her agreement as our drinks arrive and the server takes our order. We order the tabbouleh and hummus with warm pita to start, then beef kibbeh for each of us. The food comes quickly, and I”m just as quickly lost to watching Lyra eat. She very obviously likes to keep herself guarded and locked down. When she dances, or eats, or talks about food, though? The woman is so incredibly passionate. It”s absolutely beautiful to watch her unabashedly show her love for this cuisine. She”s making little noises of pleasure as she enjoys the warm pita and hummus, around asking me questions and making small talk. Her eyes widen, and she sighs when she tries the tabbouleh.
“This is just like my Nana’s,” she says wistfully.
“I’m mad that I have never tried tabbouleh before, it”s incredible,” I reply.
The kibbeh is even more of a revelation for me. The savory beef and bulgur wheat crust, with the sweet dried fruit and nuts in the middle, is so perfectly flavorful. All of the spices and different textures are perfect. When the server comes back to ask about giving us the dessert menu, of course we say yes. She takes one look at the desserts and lets out a little gasp.
“They have mamoul,” she whispers reverently, almost to herself.
“What is it?” Anything that can make her have that reaction has to be special.
“It”s a little pastry, like a mini turnover, and the filling is a mixture of nuts, butter, and spices, like you would have in baklava. They were my Nana”s specialty. We have a family recipe that we make for Christmas every year. My sister is extremely protective about the recipe.”
“Well, I know what we”re getting for dessert then.”
The small plate of pastry comes out, and Lyra is practically bouncing in her seat.
“Sorry, I have only ever had these around Christmas, so I”m just slightly excited,” she explains, a little ruefully, like she”s getting shy about possibly being too much. That won”t do at all.
“Firecracker, seeing you this excited is the best thing ever. Please don”t ever apologize for getting excited about things.”
She gives me a grateful smile, and then we try the pastry. It”s one of the most delectable things I”ve ever had. Lyra explains that the pastry shell is fragrant with mahlab, which is the ground pit of the cherry. The filling is exactly like the nut layers in baklava, just as she described.
“You know how to make these?”
She nods happily. “I make several dozen for the holidays every year. If you”re nice I”ll give you some, both for you and Eve.” She shoots me a playful wink as she says it. Then she takes another bite of pastry and she closes her eyes. When she opens them, they”re shining.
“This is really special, you know? Thanks for bringing me here. It”s bringing back a lot of great memories of my Nana. I love how food does that, it”s so evocative.”
“I know what you mean. There are a lot of Irish foods that take me right back to sitting at the table with my dad. Every time I go to my mom’s, and we sit at that dining table, I remember so much. It’s where we did all of our best talking. Sometimes I can hardly stand being there because it hurts so much, even after 10 years.” It feels so good to share this grief with her, and let her in the way she is starting to let me in.
She takes my hand to give it a squeeze, and nods in understanding. No wordy response is needed after something like that, her touch and earnest sympathy is enough. We do that staring at each other thing again, just watching and learning each others features and little tells. Once the bill is taken care of, we leave hand in hand to the car. The drive back is very much like the drive here. We listen to music, chat, and we never let go of each other”s hands.
There is a new layer of electricity, though. I can feel the waves crackling between us as we both ponder what happens when we get to her house. When we pull up, I see her gnaw on her lip and wring her hands a little as she looks out the window. Then she looks at me with hooded eyes, unmistakable want in them.
“We have some unfinished business from before we went to dinner, I think.”
“I think you”re absolutely right,” I rasp, cupping her neck and bringing her close for a searing kiss. All too soon we break it, heading into the house, removing our coats, and letting Brody out. We make sure we get him settled when he comes in. While she puts down more food and fresh water, I crouch down to give him a scratch behind his ears.
“Be a good buddy for me tonight, ok? I want this to be perfect. You”re my wingman, right?” I barely whisper it enough for him to hear it, but he gives me a chuff in response that sounds like a yes to me. I give him some more scratches and a belly rub when he flops over with his goofy tongue lolling out, before he gets up to head to his bed in the kitchen. Smart, wonderful, dog. Lyra is taking in our interaction with amusement before she sidles up to me.
“Guess he already knows that we need some privacy tonight.”
“We had a heart to heart just now about it.”
She chuckles, and goes over to give him some love before she takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs, looking over her shoulder at me with heat in those galaxy eyes. The flecks of gold in the green are completely luminous right now under dim hallway light. When we get into her room and shut the door, we”re on each other with a clash of lips, teeth, and tongue. Our bodies are fused as we breathe each other”s air, giving and taking in our best dance yet. I take a firm hold of her glorious ass, kneading and squeezing before I move to grip her thighs to hoist her up. She locks her legs around my waist as she nips down my neck, then licking where she nipped to sooth the sting. We take a break to look at each other intently, and our breathing is completely ragged.
“You”re sure about this? It”s not too soon?” My voice is pure gravel at this point, I don”t think I could be more turned on.
“Very sure. You wouldn”t be in here if I wasn’t.” She smiles against my lips before we start kissing again. I let her down to grab the back of my sweater to pull it over my head, along with the collared undershirt. She takes in my bare torso, seeing my ink for the first time. I have a tribute to my dad going down my right arm from my shoulder to the middle of my upper arm with his name, the date of his death, and a scale ruler for the profession he was so good at. She caresses her hand down it, murmuring how much she loves it. I move to start peeling off her dress, looking at her in question to make sure I can go ahead. She nods, and I slowly remove it, taking in every inch of her gorgeous body as it slithers down to the floor. The red lace bra and matching panties she has on are making me damn near feral with need. As if that”s not enough, there”s a matching garter belt over the panties strapped to the thigh high tights she’s wearing. I”ve never seen her without sleeves before, and she has her own handful of tattoos scattered on her forearms. She sees me looking and explains them.
“They”re all tributes to books I love. Images and quotes that have stuck with me because they mean so much.”
“I love them,” I tell her, running my finger along the detailed art on her left forearm of a crow perched on a cup, with a rose and vines within the cup. On her right forearm is a small dragon that looks like it is flying up her arm, and then a blue umbrella dripping rain with the quote, “But these are my puddle people.” I am going to ask her for every detail about her tattoos, but now is not the time. Moving down her body, I unclasp the straps from her tights and start to peel them down when I get my first good look at her feet through the sheer fabric. I go still.
The fourth toes on her feet are little stubs, not even the length of the knuckle on her pinky toes. There is still a purple painted nail, but they”re so tiny, like they never grew with the rest of her feet. She sees me clocking it and starts to pull into herself. So I get down on my knees in front of her before I take her hands and brace them on my shoulders for balance. Then I gently remove the tights all the way before I pick up her left foot to place a reverent kiss on that fourth toe, followed by the right. She shudders a breath as I move up, pressing soft kisses and giving little nips to her luscious thighs before I place a warm kiss to her belly. I rest my forehead against it, my hands smoothing up and down the backs of her thighs before I loop my arms around her hips. The need to bring her even closer is all consuming as I take a moment to breathe her in.
“You”re perfect, Lyra. You”re so goddamn perfect, and no one should ever make you feel otherwise.”
Her hands come to my head, raking through my hair as I lean into her touch.
“So are you,” she whispers brokenly. I look up and her eyes are bright with unshed tears. There is so much emotion in that one little phrase that I find myself getting a little choked up too. The moment feels enormous, both terrifying and exhilarating in its scope. I can almost physically see that final wall of hers crumbling, her insecurities about her differences melting away with a gesture that any man worth their salt should do for her. I decide right then and there that I’m going to show her all of the ways she should be worshipped tonight.