Julia--Drive Home

We are in the back of the limo alone together, Braxton’s fingers intertwined with mine, and it’s all I can do to keep from devouring him. I know it is a short ride back to his house from here, having made the journey earlier in the day. I do have time to kiss him, but not much more. I’m afraid if I start kissing him, I won’t be able to stop.

“What would you like to do for dinner?” Braxton asks me. I am wondering if he is having the same problem I am. His eyes shift from my eyes to my lips as he speaks, and I have a feeling he wants to kiss me, too.

“I don’t know,” I say. I can’t remember the last time Jeff asked me what I preferred to do about anything. From what we would eat to what we would watch on television, the choices were never mine. “Whatever you’d like to do is fine with me,” I said because it seemed like the polite thing to say and also because I had no idea what my choices might be.

“If you’d like to stay in for dinner, I can have the chefs prepare something,” he says.

“Th