The band-aid and lame excuses didn't fool anybody, but at least they were polite enough to keep their mouths shut about it. Finally, Foreman stared at me a little too long and I locked myself in my office. I was able to catch up on my paperwork without interruption so the day wasn't a total loss.
But I have to admit I wouldn't have minded a little office visit from you-know-who.
Greg had already left by the time I packed up my files and hunted down my keys. I wondered if he was all weirded out again, waiting behind the door. I'd just have to see if I was greeted with an arm around my neck and hope he didn't decide to really gag me with my silk tie.
No bizarre greetings awaited at 221B. Greg was in the kitchen stabbing a potato to death.
"I think you missed a spot," I said from the doorway.
"How'd it go today?" he asked without looking up. He began to slaughter another potato so they would be slightly overcooked in the middle, just the way he likes them. I've never been asked if I liked them that way, and I don't ever expect to be. "Any strange looks from your fellow doctors?"
"A few."
"Only a few?" he smirked. "I'll have to try harder next time."
"Just wait until it's your turn. We'll see how you like it," I said, stepping up to the counter.
"Let's see if you can deliver on your promise first," Greg replied and held out the pan of potatoes. "Here, make yourself useful."
Dutifully, I stuffed the pan into the oven and set the timer for forty-five minutes. "Just potatoes for dinner?"
"And Kilbasa. I'll throw that on the stove later."
"Sounds good. But what should we do for the time being?" I raised my eyebrows in question.
"Oh, I could suggest we watch CNN or play backgammon," he said, eyes glinting in the kitchen light. "Call me crazy, but somehow I get the feeling you don't have board games on your mind."
"No, I don't."
"I figured as much."
"You don't even own a backgammon set."
"So? Would you want to play right now even if I did?"
"Not hardly," I chuckled, then stepped up and put my arms around his neck. "Would you?"
"I don't know how to play," Greg confessed as he slipped his free hand around my back. "We'll just have to amuse ourselves with another game."
"Sounds good to me," I said, and a light brush against his mouth turned into a deep full-fledged kiss as both of us tried to pull the other closer. Time stopped, at least it seemed that way, as Greg returned every bit of emotion and craving I put into it.
He broke away first. "Damn, Jimmy, let me breathe a little, would ya?"
"Can't live up to your title, Greg?" I teased between a few more quick kisses.
"Title?" Greg puzzled.
"Of being 'too much'."
"It'll take more than a make-out session to strip me of that title."
Quietly laughing, I mused at how much his mood had changed between last night and tonight, from aggressively erratic to cool and calm. I suppose that change could be summed up in one simple sentence: He got exactly what he wanted. It's fair to say I got what I wanted too, though not exactly how I pictured getting it. But if life was actually that easy and predictable we'd all die of boredom.
"Besides," he continued, "you never would have come out of the spare bedroom if you really and truly thought I was 'not enough'."
"Probably not," I answered truthfully. "You told me that a lot of people have called you a lot of things. I'm sure 'dull' wasn't one them."
"Lots and lots of things," he said absently, almost like he was talking to himself. "But I don't recall that word coming up. 'Not enough' never came up either." His blue eyes met my brown eyes. "Tell me something, Jimmy."
"Tell you what?"
"That I'm not going to be wife number four."
"Don't worry," I said, cracking up. "If it's ever made legal in this state and I try to drag you to the alter, feel free to shoot me and put me out of my misery."
"You said you didn't regret your marriages."
"I don't. I regret my divorces, and the thought of divorcing you is enough to turn my hair white."
"Okay then. Neither of us has nothing to worry about that department."
"Nope." I looked at the timer. "I hope the heating pad is ready because after dinner I'm going to show you and your leg that I can deliver on my promises."
