Free Touch Me Once by Anne Kyle Page B

for the cops to come. They take her in and want to know if I want to press charges. I don’t press charges, but I do take out a restraining order against her so she can’t come near me, the restaurant, or my home.”
    “Let me guess,” I added, “That wasn’t the end of it.”
    “Not quite. I start getting hang-up calls at home, and the number comes up blocked. I get rid of the landline—I was only using the cellphone by that time anyway, so no loss.
    Then, one night at the restaurant, one of our outdoor garbage cans is set on fire. It wasn’t anything serious, and no one got hurt, but it scared some people who were leaving. They saw a young woman put something that was on fire in the can. It was Mandy.
    I tell the police , and they go have a talk with her. They tell her that if I report her one more time, she’s going to jail. That’s the last time I had a problem with her…up until now, that is.”
    “Wow , Alex, that’s some scary shit,” I said.
    “The weird thing is that she kept escalating. I was afraid of how far she would go. And now it looks like she’s still watching me, and you’re caught up in it,” he sighed.
    “For now , it’s just a tire. Like you said, it might not even be her, but I think it’s safe to assume that it is,” I told him. “At least now I know that I need to keep my eyes open and look around a little more.”
    Alex looked at me in a cool , appraising manner and gave me a big smile. “You know, you’re pretty amazing. A lot of women would just walk away from this and say ‘See you around, restaurant boy.’ But you don’t even bat an eye at what I just told you.
    I know things have been moving pretty fast with us, but I think we have something here that we should explore. And I hope I don’t need to remind you that I may be a convicted felon not too far down the road. You took that news better than anyone I can imagine,” I said, leaning into his shoulder.
    He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head, “Like I said, you’re amazing.” Alex sat up, “Hey, it’s not very late, would you like to see something cool?”
    “Is that a trick question?” I answered. “Whenever a hot, rich dude asks if you want to see something cool, the only answer is ‘absolutely’. But don’t you have to get up early for your flight?”
    “I can sleep on the plane. Plus, this cool thing is only about ten minutes away,” he said, pulling me off of the couch.
    We walked out to his car , and he made an overly exaggerated gesture of looking up and down the street. “I think the coast is clear, sweetheart,” he told me in a tough -guy voice.
    “I sure hope so,” I said. “I only have one spare tire. So, where is this cool thing?”
    We pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street, “It’s a surprise. But since you’re a local, you’ll probably be able to figure it out before we get there.”
    We drove down Coleman Blvd. and over the Shem Creek Bridge. We both turned our heads to look at Westy’s. We could hear music from the outdoor bar as it bounced over the light-reflecting water. “Looks like everything is okay at the restaurant,” I said.
    “It better stay that way. At least for the rest of the night,” he replied.
    We rode in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, I would sneak a peek and admire his profile, which was bathed in the soft blue glow from the dashboard lights. I wanted to trace the strong curve of his jawline with my finger and brush his perfect lips, the lips that had given me so much pleasure in such a short amount of time.
    We turned at the light that leads to Patriot’s Point , and I blurted out, “Don’t tell me that you own the Yorktown and we’re going for a midnight cruise.” I was referring to the decommissioned aircraft carrier that sits on the Mt. Pleasant side of the Charleston Harbor. It sits in the mud, and it would take an act of God to move it. It’s probably the safest place to be during a hurricane.
    He