“Have you had a good day?” I ask Hope. She seems to have enjoyed herself, but she has also been troubled all day.

“It was the best,” she reaches over the table we’re sitting at and touches my hand. She starts to pull it back, but I don’t let her.

“You’re preoccupied,” I tell her.

“Aden, I need to… well…”

“Spill it, Hope. What’s weighing on your mind so heavily. You know, besides what I look like naked.”

“God, you’re crazy. I’ll remind you that I already know what you look like naked.”

“Well it’s been awhile. You could have forgotten,” I respond, unable to keep the smirk off my face. “You might need a refresher course.”

“Course? Are you a class now?”

“Oh, now you’re talking.”

“Huh?”

“It’s good to know you have those kinds of fantasies.”

“I’m afraid you’re losing me, Aden,” she says, her gaze studying me warily.

“Tonight, you and me. You can be the student who forgot her homework and I’ll be the teacher who has to punish you,” I tell her, my voice dropping down to a throaty whisper, as I lean across the table to get closer to her.

We’ve spent the day sightseeing through Twin Falls and now we’re at a small burger joint, just outside of town. It’s been a great day, despite our rocky start. I want to try and get closer to Hope. For whatever reason, it feels like she’s trying to keep me at arm’s length. I need to break through the wall she’s building between us. I’m hoping today helps.

“Uh… I’m thinking the answer to that is a no,” she says, her face coloring. She smiles though and I think I’d do almost anything to see Hope smile.

“Okay, if you insist you can be the teacher, but I draw the line at you paddling me. That is not happening.”

“Quit trying to embarrass me,” she grumbles.

“Honey, I’m not. I’m being completely serious with you. Actually, I think to prove it to you tonight, I’m going to demand you strip and lean over the bed and I’ll spank you until you beg me to stop…or give you something else,” I tell her, and I don’t quieten my voice. Not even when the waitress comes by and refills our drinks. Hope turns a deep pink now, and I can’t stop myself from wondering if that’s what her ass will do when I spank it.

“Aden!” she cries.

“I say go for it, lady,” the waitress adds and I lean back, smiling broadly as Hope sputters without really replying. When we’re alone again she narrows her eyes.

“I can’t believe you. You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” I ask innocently.

“You are trying to embarrass me.”

“I like when you blush,” I tell her unapologetically. “Besides talking about having sex with your husband should never embarrass you.”

“The old Aden didn’t like talking about things in public. What happened in our bedroom was private,” she scolds me.

“I think we’ve established that the old Aden was an idiot,” I answer easily with a shrug. “Besides apparently we never had much of a sex life.”

“We did. With your medication, I mean,” she answers, blinking up at me.

“Well luckily, new Aden doesn’t need medication. And I’ve got to tell you honey, if getting my memory back means I stop getting permanent hard-ons around you, then I don’t want it back.”

“I… you get permanent hard-ons around me?” she asks, clearly shocked.

“Honey, I have zipper impressions on my cock that are probably engrained in the skin now, thanks to you.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m telling the truth. My balls are fucking blue from the need to fuck you, Hope. Trust me, I don’t need to lie about that.”

“Then why didn’t you… you know?”

“What?”

“Last night, why didn’t you let me please you?”

“Because last night was for you. I’ll get mine soon.”

“You sound awful sure of yourself,” she grumbles, clearly not liking the fact that I know she will give me what I want when I ask—and how I ask.

“Babe. You remember what you were like last night. You lit up like a Roman candle.”

She sighs. “Can we talk about something else?”

“I like this topic.”

“I see the answer is no,” she huffs.

“You could take me in the bathroom and show me your tits. That might get me through for a bit and I’ll let you change the subject.”

“Fine, we’ll talk about sex,” she growls.

“So we’re saying it’s a no, to the whole tits in the bathroom scenario.”

She ignores me, and there’s mischief in her eyes when she grins at me. That should have been my first warning.

“You used to like it when I spanked you.”

“What? No way. You’re talking crazy talk now.”

“Seriously you used to beg me to spank you and punish you for being a bad boy.”

“I did not.”

“Oh, but you did. I didn’t like it, but I never judged you for it.”

“Hope, there is no way this is true.”

“Of course it is. Why would I say it, if it wasn’t?”

“I know it can’t be.”

“But then, you don’t remember do you? You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it. I mean, pleasure is an individual thing, however you find it, you find it really.”

“I might not be able to remember, but I know enough about my reactions to you to say unequivocally that if any spanking was done, I was the one doing—”

“Getting the spanking,” she interrupts. “Although, you liked it best when I used the plug and—”

“It’s been a really nice day. How about you stop talking now before that’s no longer true,” I growl. What she’s saying feels completely foreign to me. In fact, the more she keeps talking about it, it feels like my dick is trying to crawl into my balls to hide.

“Are you embarrassed, Aden?” she asks innocently. A little too innocent.

“Why you witch!” I start, but before I can scold her further we’re interrupted.

“Oh my God! Bonnie! Did you see this guy? It’s Bolt!” An old woman who looks like she’s on the wrong side of eighty and leaning on her walker cries excitedly. I would have ignored it, but she’s standing in front of our table.

“Doreen, that’s not Bolt Lawson,” another woman answers. I turn to look at her and she looks to be close to the same age as Doreen, but she doesn’t have a walker. They’re both wearing similar nylon jogging suits and fanny packs. Older tourists, which apparently are popular in Twin Falls, as we’ve seen them all day long. This is the first time however, that I’ve been singled out.

“I’m telling you this is Bolt Lawson, that fireman!”

“Uh… ladies…” I start.

“I’m telling you it’s not. This guy has too much gray and he looks way too old.”

Wow. Okay, that was like a sucker punch. Nothing like being called old by a lady who could be your grandmother.

“But it is! Bolt, sugar, you did the right thing.”

“I did?” I ask, by this time completely confused.

“Yes! Krystal was all wrong for you. Anyone could see it.”

“She wasn’t wrong for him Doreen! She was a cheating cow!”

“Well, that makes her all wrong for Bolt!”

“For the last time, that’s not Bolt.”

“It is! I can prove it,” Doreen says.

“You can?” Hope asks, her face almost completely devoid of color. Are these old ladies scaring her? They’re definitely strange, but generally harmless—well, unless Doreen decides she wants to beat me to death with her walker.

“I certainly can! Bolt, look at me with those bedroom eyes of yours and repeat after me,” Doreen instructs.

“Bedroom eyes?” I ask, looking at Hope for help, but she’s staring up at Doreen, oblivious.

“Say this,” Doreen instructs.

“Uh…”

“Doreen, honey, don’t you worry. I’m here to put your fire out.”

Hope gasps, and her eyes go large and then she laughs—which is better than her looking at Doreen like she might be a mass serial killer. Plus, I love Hope’s laugh. Doreen and Bonnie seem harmless so I decide to go with it.

“Doreen. Come here and let me put your fire out,” I tell her, trying to do my best to inject charm and be as over-the-top as I think this situation calls for. Which is to say—a lot.

Doreen’s eyes widen and then she sighs.

“Okay Bonnie, you’re right. That’s not Bolt.”

“Told you! He wouldn’t even pass for that has-been Dr. McDreamy!”

“Well duh, McDreamy died! I should have known Bolt wouldn’t show up here in Idaho anyways.”

“I’m sorry, Doreen,” I say, feeling like I let the old lady down somehow, because she looks so dejected.

“Whatever,” she grumbles walking past the table, now completely through with me.

“What was that about, do you think?” I ask Hope, once Doreen and Bonnie make their way to the other end of the restaurant.

“I have no idea. That was beyond strange,” Hope answers.

“She thinks you’re that movie star. The one with that movie that came out a few months ago. You know the one, about the fireman whose girlfriend was cheating on him with another man? The guys turned out to be a serial killer,” the waitress chimes in helpfully.

“Uh… I must have missed that one,” I respond.

“It sounds kind of lame,” Hope shrugs.

“It was. That’s why it bombed at the box office,” the waitress answers. “She is right about one thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You do kind of look like the actor that played Bolt.”

“Wow really? Hear that honey? I look like a famous heartthrob actor,” I joke, telling Hope with a leering look, that in turn makes her roll her eyes.

“You’re a lot older than he is, though,” the waitress adds, before going to the next table.

Hope starts laughing and I love her laugh, but still. No man wants to hear they’re freaking old. Shit, I know Hope said I was fifty, but I didn’t feel fifty—at least not until this moment.

“I’m not leaving her a tip,” I growl—which makes Hope laugh harder.

I enjoy that so much, I kiss her.

And in the end I left the waitress a tip, because with Hope’s kiss, and her laughter ringing in my ears, it’s impossible to hold a grudge.