Goddess of Love

A couple days earlier Pea would have found it utterly bizarre that she wasn't feeling one hint of nerves while she puttered around the kitchen getting ready for a date that had the potential to be amazing.



"I've gained confidence," she told Chloe, whose attention was focused solely on Pea, as if the Scottie could will her to drop something.



Chloe sighed, disgruntled at Pea's neatness.



"Well, it's true. And it's not just about the hair and the clothes and the makeup." She chattered at the dog, ignoring Chloe's grumpiness as she tossed the salad. "It's about the goddess I've found in here." She pointed at herself with a long leaf of romaine lettuce. Chloe woofed softly at her and Pea laughed, tossing her a dog biscuit.



"Try to behave yourself tonight. There's something special about this one. I can see it in his eyes...."



Pea carried the salad out to the deck, putting it on the little picnic table that was already set with a cheery red-and-white-checked tablecloth and matching napkins. Her good china look strangely perfect mixed with the casual chic of the little Italian picnic she'd set up. The Chianti was open and breathing - the garlic bread was keeping warm in the oven, and the spaghetti sauce was ready. Pea lit the candles on the table and added more pinion wood to the large chimenea. Then she completed the finishing touch by plugging in the minilantern lights that she'd strung along the inside of the lattice woodwork of the sides of the deck. Pea smiled. Everything was perfect. Even the weather had cooperated and stayed as unseasonably warm as the Channel 6 news guy had predicted.



"How magical," she whispered. "To eat outside in February."



Pea decided it had to be a good omen.



She was stirring the sauce when he knocked on the front door. Her stomach did get a little flipfloppy then, but it was more anticipation and excitement than nerves. Pea scrunched her curls one last time, quickly reapplied her lip gloss and opened the door. He was wearing a black cable knit sweater and a dark shirt under it, with a pair of jeans that fit him well enough to make Pea's mouth water for more than spaghetti.



"Hello," he said.



"Hello," she said.



Then they just stood there, staring at each other and smiling until Chloe's insistent barking registered on both of them.



"What do you call her?" he asked.



"Chloe. I'm sorry her manners aren't better. She doesn't really like men, but hopefully she'll get used to you and then be quiet."



He crouched down and reached his hand slowly forward, palm down, offering Chloe a sniff.



"It is good that she is protective of you," he said to Pea, and then turned his attention back to the disgruntled Scottie. "You are a fierce advocate for your lady, aren't you?"



Pea watched him curiously. His tone was completely serious. He didn't sound coaxing or cajoling, as so many people did when confronted by a growling dog. Instead he sounded appreciative, something Chloe seemed to instinctively react to. She'd quit growling and was cocking her head attentively at the tall man.



"I would never allow harm to come to her. I give you my oath on that, little protectress."



Chloe sniffed his hand and wagged her tail. Then she sneezed and went in search of her cat.



"Well, that's truly weird. Chloe doesn't usually like men." Pea smiled at him. "So you winning her over must mean it's safe to let you in."



Victor stepped into her home and lifted her hand, pressing his lips to it in greeting while his eyes met hers.



"The hours passed slowly." He let loose of her hand reluctantly.



"I thought they would for me, too, but I had to help my, uh...friend" - she floundered over what to call the goddess - "get ready for her date tonight, so time passed really fast. I had a lot to do."



He smiled and sniffed the air. "Something smells delicious. Are we not going out for dinner this evening?"



"I thought it would be nice to eat in." She almost added, If you don't mind, and then thought better of it. The old Pea would have worried and fussed and stressed about whether she was being too forward taking charge of their date. The new and goddess-improved Pea believed she had a right to choose the venue of their date - that her desires were important. She wanted to eat in, so they were going to eat in. If he didn't like it, and her fabulous food and her amazing home, then he wasn't the man for her. Period.



"I'm honored that you would cook for me."



Pea beamed at him. Victor had given her the exact right answer. "I like to cook."



"You also like to make a comfortable home," he said, glancing around her living room.



"Yes, it's important to me." Pea was pleased that he'd noticed. She'd brought men home before. Not a lot of men, but a few. A couple of them had had "eloquent" comments like, "nice house"



or "great place - the value will definitely go up in this area" but none of them had understood that her gift was in making a "nice house" a home.



And Chloe had hated every last one of them.



"Of course it is important to you." He nodded like he actually did understand. "Your home is your creation, so it should reflect you."



"Then let me show you my favorite room - the kitchen."



She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen. She went straight to the stove and automatically stirred the sauce. Pea smiled over her shoulder at him. "I hope you like spaghetti."



"I will like anything you prepare."



Her grin widened. "Want to try it to make sure?"



"If you would like me to, I will. Tonight, Pea, your every desire is my command."



Pea felt the thrill of the message behind his words begin to quiver deep within her core. She wanted this tall, powerful man whose limp made him somehow accessible and human. She wanted him and the promise of their future that she read in his eyes. Pea lifted the spoon to him and blew on it gently, as if she were brushing his skin with her breath. "Then taste, but be careful it's hot."



His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I'm very comfortable with hot."



He tasted the sauce and it seemed he was tasting her. Again.



"Delicious," he said.



"Are you hungry?"



"For many things."



Pea loved the rush of heat he caused within her body. Part of her wanted to drop the tasting spoon and have him take her right there on the kitchen table; the other part of her (the more sane part) wanted to prolong this sweet game of foreplay they'd just begun. The sane part of her won, but only just barely.



"Good. Dinner's almost ready." She turned up the water that was waiting for the angel hair pasta.



"Let me show you where we'll be eating."



She took him out the back door to the patio. "Perfect" was all he said, but it was enough. It was exactly what Pea thought of it, too.



"Why don't you pour us some wine, and I'll finish up the pasta." At the door she turned back, about to ask him to feed the chimenea some more wood, but he'd apparently anticipated her request. He'd already gone to the outside fireplace and was stoking it, although with the sudden intensity with which it was burning she wasn't sure the thing needed any more encouragement. Well, she thought as she added the pasta to the boiling water, he's a fireman. He should know what he's doing with fire.



It didn't take long to finish the last touches for dinner, but she was eager to get back to him and glad she'd chosen angel hair pasta, which cooked in a snap. Pea loved the way his eyes lit up when she returned, and then was ridiculously happy at the hearty way he dug into the meal, which complimented her even more than his words of praise.



When she looked back on the meal she was surprised to recall how easily they spoke of nothing - the warm weather, how the lanterns made the deck look fairylike, the recipe for the spaghetti she'd discovered in an old out-of-print Italian cookbook. Normal things. Mundane things. It was almost as if they had always been together.



"I'm glad you chose outside for us to eat," he said, after he'd swallowed his last bite and poured them each another glass of Chianti.



"I was worried about it turning cold, but the night is beautiful and the chimenea helps." She nodded at it, surprised to see it still burning merrily.



Victor smiled. "A good fire always warms things."



"I would think a fireman wouldn't be so fond of fire."



"When you are intimate with fire it's hard not to appreciate it, and learn from it, as well as respect its destructive ability."



"Appreciate and learn from it..." She paused, sipping her wine. "Okay. What has it taught you?"



"Fire teaches about purification and renewal. For instance, a wildfire that rages across a forest is, at first, what appears like a disaster. In truth the forest grows back healthier because it has been cleansed of choking weeds and dead wood."



"That makes sense. What else does it teach you?"



"I see stories in the fire."



"Stories? What do you mean?"



He studied her solemnly before he answered, and Pea got the odd but distinct impression that he was weighing her...considering how much he could or could not say to her.



"Think of fire as you would an oracle. It's ever-changing and it really does have a life of its own. It breathes. It eats. It can die. Yet it's eternally old. So why can't it collect stories?"



Pea thought about it. It made a strange kind of sense. "I suppose it could. I guess it just needs someone who knows how to hear the stories to translate them."



Victor's smile was brilliant. "Exactly."



"Tell me some of them."



Victor considered, glancing up at the sky as it seemed to Pea that he sifted through his thoughts and memories. "Come with me and I will show you." He stood and held out his hand to her. Pea took it without hesitating, and he led her to the far edge of the deck that had been built with a wide, waist-high ledge. During the spring and summer, Pea kept large pots of geraniums on the ledge so that her deck seemed to be in bloom.



Victor dropped her hand, and she had just begun to feel the loss of that physical contact with him when he rested both hands on her waist.



"May I?" he murmured.



She looked up into his dark eyes, and didn't care what he was asking. Anything, she thought. Tonight I want to give him anything and everything.



"Yes," she said.



Surprising her, he lifted her so that she was sitting on the ledge, then he turned her, so that instead of facing him, Pea was leaning back against him, and his strong arms were braced on either side of her. When he spoke, his lips were beside her ear, his cheek resting softly against her hair.



"Fire tells stories of ancient times - ancient peoples - ancient beliefs." He pointed up into the night sky. "For instance did you know that the full moon for this month has been known for ages as the quickening moon?"



Pea looked up, following his direction. "The quickening moon? Sounds beautiful."



He brought his hand down and let it rest on her thigh, where he began to caress her softly, as if his touch was part of the story he was weaving for her. "Generations ago it prodded people to look inside themselves for dormant possibilities as the creatures who slept deep in the womb of the earth felt the pull of being on the cusp of spring's awakening."



"What else does it tell you?" Pea asked, as she gazed at the full February moon, mesmerized by his deep voice and the heat that radiated from his touch.



"The fire of this world calls to mind the brilliance of the constellations - those distant stars that have their own cold fire."



He looked to the south and pointed just above the visible horizon. She turned her head and felt a delicious shiver of sensation as he swept back her hair and kissed the curve of her neck.



"Do you see the small constellation there?" His lips moved against her skin as he spoke. "The one that has the double star?"



"Yes." She breathed the word so that it sounded more like a moan than an acknowledgment. She could feel his lips turning up in a smile as the tip of his tongue flicked out to tease her skin.



"That is the constellation of the ram. The story goes that the king of Thessaly had two children, Phrixus and Helle, who were abused by their stepmother. The gods heard the children's cries, and Hermes sent a ram with a golden fleece to carry them to safety on its back. Helle fell off the ram as it was flying across the sea known as the Hellespont. Phrixus was heartbroken, but was carried to safety on the shores of the Black Sea at Colchis, where he lovingly sacrificed the ram to the gods in thanks, and its fleece was guarded by a terrible dragon. The gods honored the ram by sending its soul to the heavens."



Pea gazed at the beauty of the stars as Victor kissed and caressed her, his strong hands sliding up her thighs while his deep voice painted images of an ancient past. She leaned back into him, reaching up to lace her hands together behind his neck, giving him complete access to her breasts.



"More," she whispered. "Tell me more."



"I'll tell you the story of my favorite constellation." One hand briefly left her body to point to a group of stars that was actually familiar to her.



"It's the Milky Way and the Southern Cross," she said.



"Look deeper," he said, sliding his clever hands up under her sweater and cupping her breasts. She couldn't suppress a moan and she felt him smile against her skin again. "In the ancient world that group of stars is known as Centaurus. The stars are the soul of Chiron." His thumbs grazed over her sensitive, puckered nipples. "He was one of the most gifted teachers who ever lived, and in honor of him, the mighty Zeus placed the centaur's soul amongst the stars."



Pea was entranced by Victor. It was as if he had created a mythical world for her, filled with the magic of his deep voice, and the passion of his warm touch. She felt languid and very, very sexy as she turned so that she was facing him. His eyes were shining with desire, and his hands still caressed her body intimately, as if he was memorizing each curve.



"Your stories are beautiful," she said breathlessly.



"You make me want to share my world with you," he said.



"I like the way you see the world." Pea touched his face, and then brushed her thumb over his bottom lip, remembering how his mouth felt against her body. Then she moved her hand down, so that it lay flat on his chest, pressing against the place over his heart. She could feel it beating, strong and steady, as she leaned toward the warmth of his body.



"I want you to see my world. I want you to always be with me," he said, then bent to cover her lips with his and desire chased all thoughts of the stars and eternity from her mind. When they finally broke the kiss, it was to stare at each other. Pea touched Victor's cheek again.



"You said I could have anything I desire tonight?"



"Yes."



"Then what I desire is you."