The Crime of Protection Page 6
“Me too.” She let out a nervous, yet breathless, laugh as she climbed into the passenger seat. Everything inside the car was immaculate, as if the car had just come from the dealership. She wondered how he could keep everything so perfect.
“Are you ready?” he asked when he was in the car and had put his seatbelt on.
“Yes.”
That perfect smile cut across his face as the car revved to life and they pulled away from the curb. Laura could not contain her gasp as Paul wove through the downtown traffic like a fish through water. It was as if he knew just what all of the other drivers were going to do. The look on his face expressed just how much he was enjoying it and Laura noted the excitement in his eyes and how he seamlessly moved with the machine, as if he understood it on another level. She’d known guys who were into cars, but none of them had ever looked this at ease and in tune with them.
Normally, she would have worried about the lack of conversation in the car, but Laura didn’t sense any awkwardness between them. She didn’t expect Paul to say much in the first place and was just glad to be near him.
When they arrived at the little restaurant, Paul pulled smoothly into a parking spot near the front door and looked over at her with his little smile still in place. “Have you ever been here before?”
Laura shook her head. She could never afford to eat out at such fancy brunch restaurants on her budget. The dog walking paid well enough, but with the cost of tuition for her night classes there wasn’t much left over for eating out at nice restaurants.
“Then this will be a treat.”
*****
After that first date, Laura’s relationship with Paul blossomed. He began to monopolize all of her free time, taking her to museums and antique shops and regaling her with interesting facts and tidbits of history. They would take Aspen on long walks in the park and as they spent more time together, Laura felt at ease with Paul’s quiet and reserved personality. She didn’t need him to talk a lot, and she found she enjoyed his quiet presence.
He would always hold her hand, and after their third date, he had even kissed her lightly on the cheek. Laura felt electricity surge through her when his lips brushed against her skin. It was as if she had pressed her cheek onto a live wire. The jolt gave her a rush the likes of which she had never felt before. Immediately, she craved to have his lips on her.
One day, Paul invited Laura over to his place for dinner. Her familiar nerves returned as she walked up the steps to his front door. As many times as she had been here, she had never been inside of Paul’s house and somehow the prospect of actually going in struck a chord of anxiety inside of her. Even though she was familiar with his house, Laura found it hard to imagine him actually dwelling somewhere, sleeping and showering like a normal person. For some reason, he just seemed to exist in this suspended construction in her mind, like an angel that didn’t really live on earth, but visited just for her. Of course that notion was silly, and as Laura reached the front door she stilled herself and prepared to see the mundane side of Paul.
She followed his directions to dress casually, but the whole way over to his place she wondered if she was underdressed in her jeans and blouse. She knew he would be wearing the familiar khakis and polo, but somehow she always felt that it looked much classier on him than on other men.
When Laura reached the front door she noticed that there was a small note taped up with her name written on it in the most elegant handwriting. Curious, she opened it.
Laura, I’m in the kitchen. Please come in and make yourself at home. –Paul
Gingerly, she turned the doorknob and entered into Paul’s home. What she found on the other side of the door wasn’t necessarily surprising, but somehow it wasn’t what she expected.
Her first observation was how neat clean everything was. It was as if an OCD storm had hit his house. The entryway was clean, virtually sterile, with cream-colored walls, shining hardwood floors and a modest little black end table where his keys were laid. There was no clutter, not even a stack of old mail or magazines on the table. Even though she had seen this entryway a number of times, every time she dropped off Aspen after his walks, she had never been inside and been able to appreciate just how his interior aesthetic matched his personality. Even the art that hung on the walls was clean minimalist work including black and white photography in sleek black frames.
Aspen was there to greet her, his tail wagging happily and she reached down to pet him. “How are you? I’m glad to see you. Can you take me to Paul?”
Down the hall, the smell of roasted chicken and herbs wafted towards Laura and provided a homey contrast to the sterility of the house. She followed Aspen as well as her nose through the living room and into the sleek modern kitchen where Paul was just pulling his culinary creation out of the oven.
“I hope you don’t mind if we stay in tonight,” Paul said when he turned around and saw her standing there.
“Not at all,” she answered as she observed in amazement how clean everything in the kitchen was, even in the midst of cooking. She thought of her own kitchen, and the disastrous state that it was in at the moment, and felt a little embarrassed. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“If you’d like, there’s a bottle of wine in the refrigerator. Could you bring it to the table?”
Laura nodded and walked over to the fridge. Even in here, there was nothing out of place. Everything was placed on the shelves with purpose. There were no leaning bottles of half empty ketchup or stacks of leftovers waiting questionable amounts of time. She retrieved the bottle of red wine and noticed that it had a label in French she couldn’t read at all.
“Thank you.” He was already at the sleek dining table serving up the dinner on plates she was fairly certain he had bought from a local ceramicist with their hand glazed designs. The cutlery was not ornate, but polished to a shine that assured her that it was real silver. The centerpiece was a short, blue glass candleholder with a flickering flame.
Laura set the bottle down on the table and Paul stopped to pull out one of the chairs for her to sit down. Laura couldn’t help but blush. Even in his home, she felt as if they were out at one of the nicest restaurants in town.
Next, he uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass while Laura admired the display set up on the plate. Even the food was immaculately placed and the display was as beautiful as the smell. It was so perfect that Laura wasn’t sure she would be able to eat any of it for fear of messing it up.
“It’s a garlic and herb roasted chicken breast with red potatoes and grilled asparagus,” Paul explained the dish to her. Then he took his seat across from her and Aspen took his own place underneath the table. Her eyes locked with Paul’s and he nodded towards her as he picked up his knife and fork. “Bon appétit.”
Lauren blushed again and picked up her own knife and fork. The chicken was tender and moist, and she almost moaned when the flavor filled her mouth. All of the nice restaurants he had taken her to were nothing in comparison to Paul’s cooking.
“How is it?”
Lauren swallowed her bite. “It’s amazing.”
“Good. It’s the first time I’ve cooked for someone else.”
Paul looked slightly embarrassed admitting this to her, but Lauren could not believe it. He was beyond perfect, and she was actually jealous of his cooking ability.
“You’re an excellent cook,” she told him. “Is it a hobby of yours?”
“No,” he admitted. “Honestly, I usually eat out. I hardly ever cook.”
Laura could feel her eyes bulging out of their sockets. He must be trying to be modest. There was no way that he could be this excellent without having any practice in the kitchen.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“What?”
“There’s no way you’re that amazing at cooking without having practiced.”
Paul laughed. It was a hearty and rich sound that filled the space around them. “I really haven’t, Laura.”
“Well I don’t care what Gordon Ramsay thinks,” he said. “I only care if you are enjoying it.”
It was Laura’s turn to laugh as she blushed bright red. He raised his glass of wine and the two of them toasted the meal.
“To one whole month.”
*****
Laura could feel the wine going to her head as she sat with Paul on the couch with Aspen at their feet. They were watching one of Laura’s favorite movies, The Lucky One. She identified so strongly with Beth and sitting there with Paul, she secretly imagined that they could be living out the movie. Paul could be her Logan and Aspen could be Zeus.
Paul’s arm was around her and they each had their glass of wine in hand. Laura was resting her head on his shoulder and she was intoxicated by his smell. She vaguely wondered if it was cologne or his natural scent, slightly musky and a little bit sweet at the same time.
His body was warm, practically radiating. Combined with the wine and the dimed lights for the movie, Laura was at such ease she was near falling asleep. She yawned and snuggled against him.
Paul shifted and briefly tightened his one-armed embrace. Absent-mindedly, his fingers began to play with the sleeve of her shirt and run up and down her arm. His touch left her skin tingling and Laura could feel the familiar knot in her stomach, wanting to make a move and kiss him.
For the last week or so she had been on the fence about whether nor not she should initiate the next step. She didn’t want to seem too forward, but she couldn’t tell if he was waiting or if he was also unsure about taking their relationship to the next level. After all, he had been the one who asked her out to begin with so it seemed that he would not be too shy to initiate something more.
Paul kissed the top of her head and whispered her name softly.
“Mmmm, yes,” she answered softly, too comfortable to look up at him.
“I like spending time with you,” he said.
Laura smiled into his chest. “I do too.”
***
Paul felt the rhythm of Laura’s breathing shift as she drifted off to sleep. He reached around and retrieved the almost empty wine glass from her grasp, sitting it down on the end table. At his feet, Aspen stirred and yawned and Paul reached out to pat him on the head.
“I suppose you want to go out for a walk, don’t you?”
Aspen let out a low affirmative growl.
Paul smiled to himself. He was genuinely enjoying spending time with Laura. She was optimistic about life and the way she looked at him sometimes made him forget that she was a mission objective.
He dismissed his thoughts and gently extracted himself from her, but he couldn’t help but smirk when he noticed the small spot of drool that had wet his shirt. He had expected the final mission to be painfully difficult, but he had become enamored with the human girl. Up to this point he had completed all of his missions on this planet with professional detachment.
His assimilation into the human society had been seamless, and no one had noted his presence as that of anything more than another human. Between the devices implanted in himself and Aspen, they had recorded all the necessary data to assure that his people could integrate with the rest of the humans.
This last mission was to find a suitable mate to assess if their two species would be compatible, or if they would have to engage in artificial blending between their species. That afternoon a month ago, when he had first asked her out on a date, he had implanted a nano into her to track her vitals. So far all reports were that she was an optimally healthy and fertile female.
He undoubtedly wanted to be with Laura. What he struggled with now was that he did not want to treat her like a mission objective. He had never had the opportunity to cultivate any emotional relationships with people of his own species, so he found himself being drawn out of his emotional sterility by Laura.
Paul shook his head to physically clear his thoughts. The mission needed to be put first, but he did not want to think about his own emotional complications at the moment. For now, he needed to take advantage of her sleep to run a few final tests, and to move her from the couch so that she would not be uncomfortable in her sleep.
*****
Laura’s head felt fuzzy when she woke up. She knew she drank too much wine the night before, but still, the hangover was worse than what she remembered from the days when she would hit the bars. Luckily, the ache was contained to her head, and she had no worries as she remembered falling asleep in Paul’s arms last night.
She groaned and was immediately answered by a wet nose snuffling in her ear and she turned over to be greeted by Aspen’s slobbery dog kisses. This turned her groan into a giggle.
Sitting up, she pacified Aspen by petting him so that she might get a glimpse at her surroundings. The queen sized bed she was laying in had crisp white sheets and a dark wood frame. Across from her were a closed closet door, a dresser, and an open door that led to the hallway. To her right was another door that led to a bathroom. To her left was a nightstand that held a glass of water, a couple of aspirin, and a note.
I didn’t want to wake you, but I had to go to work. Breakfast is ready for you downstairs when you’re awake. I understand if you need to leave, but you’re welcome to stay. –Paul
Laura smiled. Even if they hadn’t physically moved onto another level, she felt that emotionally they had. She thought about how he must have carried her to what she assumed was his bed from the couch and smiled.
He had not undressed her, and she was glad for that as it showed he was not a pervert. On top of that he had foreseen her hangover from the wine and had thoughtfully left the aspirin out for her on the nightstand. Grateful, she grabbed the aspirin and downed them with the glass of water so that she might begin her recovery.
After using the bathroom, Laura wandered downstairs and found a breakfast of pancakes with sausage warming inside a covered dish in the oven. A potholder was laid out on the marble countertop next to the stove for her use as well as a plate with a knife and fork. On the stove there was a teakettle and another note from Paul.
I remembered you don’t drink coffee. There is tea and sugar in the cabinet above the stove, or orange juice in the refrigerator.
Aspen sat patiently across the room while Laura made a cup of tea and fixed herself a plate. Feeling guilty she held up a piece of sausage, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
The dog’s ears perked up, and Laura stealthily fed him the piece of meat as if they were both being watched by Paul. She laughed at herself and then took her tea and her plate over to the dining table to enjoy her breakfast. She had nearly forgotten how good of a cook Paul was until she took her first bite of the pancakes. They were divine.
Aspen laid down at her feet while she ate and she made hypothetical conversation with him just like she used to do on their walks. She found she kind of missed these little conversations with the dog since she and Paul had ended their business relationship when they pursued their romantic relations.
“So what does Paul think of me?” she asked him between bites. “You’re the one who spends all day with him.”
Aspen let out a low whine in response.
“Do you really think so?” The dog made a noise that sounded like a “harrumph” and Laura giggled to herself. “I must sound like a desperately crazy woman to be asking you how Paul feels about me. Would you like another piece of sausage?”
Aspen sat up straight and barked clearly. There was no doubt that he definitely wanted the sausage. He scarfed down the treat and waited patiently while Laura finished the rest of her breakfast.
Afterwards, Laura returned her dishes to the kitchen, rinsing them off in the sink. Then she decided she would explore the rest of the house and see what benign secrets she could discover about Paul.
Trailing at her heels, Aspen accompanied her as she casually moved abo
ut the different rooms of the house. She appreciated his taste in art and she even recognized some of the prints, like Migrant Mother by Dorothea Lange.
All of his bookshelves were filled with historical texts and high-level science books, far more complex than her high school biology knowledge. He clearly wasn’t much of a fiction reader, which was a little intimidating, but she figured it was more than appropriate given his personality. Although, she did consider that perhaps she should introduce him to some fiction authors, like Tolkien, who wrote dense fictions that he would probably enjoy.
Just off from his living room, she found his office. There was a large mahogany desk with a couple of computer monitors hooked up along with neat stacks of paperwork. She decided it best not to snoop around there lest she shuffle the papers and cause the loss of important documents.
She was just about to settle in the living room and see what was on the television, but thought she’d give the upstairs a quick peek as well. Her investigation brought her first to a guest bedroom, which she determined as such only because the only items in the closet were spare bed sheets, a few boxes of labeled decorations, and an acoustic guitar.
Then she returned to the bedroom where she woke up. This was, without a doubt, Paul’s bedroom. The knowledge made her heart flutter. After all, he had a well put together guest bedroom, but had chosen to have her sleep in his bed. The next thought that struck her was that he had probably slept right next to her in that bed, his bed. It was enough to make her giddy.
“He slept right there next to me, didn’t he,” she asked Aspen, who barked an enthusiastic reply. Laura laughed with delight and shared Aspen’s excitement. “Let’s go for a quick walk,” she suggested, “and then we’ll see what’s on Netflix.”
***
Aspen let out a sharp bark before the door even opened to alert Laura to Paul’s presence. She paused the episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine that she was on and followed the dog to the front hall to greet Paul. There he stood removing his jacket and the moment his eyes found her a smile spread across his face.