A/N: I just decided I'd post the seond chapter. P.S. reviews appreicated.

Chapter 2

"So when you say it's in you top ten you say you like scary movies?" she asked.

"Definitely." Mort replied sipping his glass of water. Mort and Marta started talking while waiting for their meals to come. They drove to one of the town centers about five minutes away from the theater. They stopped to dine at the new restaurant in New London. Mort held the door open for Marta as they entered. He followed her to the counter to order. Mort had already offered to pay for her meal for the fact that he was the one who asked her out.

Marta had ordered the Spicy Thai Caesar Salad and Mort ordered the Mediterranean Mixed Grill. After ordering they got their drinks and took their order number with them to their seat. Marta led Mort to one of the booths second from the window. As they sat down Marta took off her coat revealing her beautiful brown two tone floral print tee with a raglan sleeve, cut away shoulder detail, and tied at the shoulders.

Mort and Marta both sat down looking around at the place as they gave into the romantic atmosphere. The place was quiet and imitate. The whole place was only lite up with the candle lights that sat in the middle of every table and the brighter lights gearing from the kitchen. All the walls were orange and the seats were black while the tables were a dark swietenia macrophylla. While surrounded by other people enjoying there dinners music played from the small silver speakers came out a soft jazz rhythm. Mort set his glass of water back on the table.

"What's the scarcest movie you've ever seen?" she asked.

"Oh, um . . . where do I start . . . The Exorcist. That's one creepy movie." They suddenly busted into laughter. Just then the food arrived and their stomachs ached from laughing as the waiter came caring their plates in over his shoulder on a large tray. He sat Marta's Salad in front of her then sat Mort's meal in front him.

"Compliments of the chief." he said sitting down the complimentary basket of rolls. "Enjoy." The waiter said once more and left the table. Marta took her fork and took the first bite of her salad. She closed her eyes as she was pleased with the taste. Mort took his knife and fork and began to cut his chicken.

"I remember the first time I saw that." Marta said. "It was with my mother and every time she saw that possessed girl she'd jump out of her seat into my lap and dug her nails into my skin." Mort started laughing again.

"I know how she feels." He said once he calmed himself back down to talk. Marta laughed along as she took another bite of her salad. Mort watched her. Her hair fell over her shoulders and around her face. Every bite she took she opened her mouth wide putting barely any fork into her mouth, but enough to show her blazing white teeth.

Marta looked down at her food when she ate looking up every time she was in the middle of chewing. She looked up at Mort after she took a small mouthful of lettuce covered in fiery red chili dressing. She quickly reached for her drink.

"Do you like the food?" Mort asked already knowing the answer to his own question.

"Yes, I'm loving this salad." she replied. "Thank you for taking me out to dinner."

"It's my pleasure." Mort said finally cutting his steak. With his fork he stuck it in the steak then put it up to his mouth. He opened wide to fit it in. Then when it was inside he quickly closed down, gently pulled his fork out, and chomped down on the steak. His mouth filled with the taste of the grilled steak, tomato, olives, onions, and the savory tzatziki sauce.

"So . . . Mort . . . what is it that you do for a living?" Marta asked as Mort as he was chewing his food. She waited for a moment while Mort quickly chewed his food up to answer. Mort swallowed his steak half chewed then wiped the sides of his mouth with the napkin by his plate.

"I'm a writer." Mort answered setting the napkin back down on the table.

"Really . . . wait . . . Mort--Mort Rainey."

"That would be me." Mort said. "I didn't know you were a reader."

"Yea of course. Who lives in the state of Maine and doesn't read the famous Mort Rainey."

He was shocked by the compliment yet he couldn't deny how good it made him feel. Still he thought it best to change the subject. "Well enough about me . . . tell what you do for a living?" Mort asked.

"I believe you know all about that field of work." Marta replied then took another bite of her salad.

"You're a writer?" Mort asked surprised.

"Guilty. I've loved to write sense I was about eighteen, I think. My whole life I thought I wanted to be a painter. My father was a writer. I guess you could say it runs in the family."

"Really I think that's wonderful. So you paint?"

"Not really. More like taking something and throwing paint on it." Marta joked. Mort laughed getting the sense that she was just being modest.

"What kinds of things did you paint?"

"I don't know . . . things that I see." she said taking another bite of her salad. Mort waited for her to be done chewing. "One time I painted a fence."

Mort laughed. At this point he knew she was joking about being a painter. "What did you paint on it?"

"The sky." she replied. Mort took the moment to glance into her eyes. They were so sincere.

"I would love to see your gallery sometime." Mort said finally taking a second bite of his steak.

"Maybe if you're lucky I'll let you. Anyway I'm a writer now."

"You shouldn't give up on painting if it's your true passion. . ." Mort insisted.

"Trust me . . . it's not." Marta said looking Mort straight in the eye. Mort felt like asking more about her life as an artist then as a writer, but something else told him not to. She was so mysterious and interesting that he felt no matter what they talked about she'd never give him the full story.

"Have you published anything yet?"

"Oh, only one got published. It's a tough business."

"You don't have to tell me that. So what is this story called?" Mort asked. Mort leaned on the table crossing his arms looking interested in her words, looked into her eyes, and listened to her like he knew her for years.

"The Devil's Tower." she said. Marta told him of her first book she'd ever wrote and then published three years ago and how her dad always inspired her to be a writer. His name was Antonio Vasquez. His books were mostly popular in Spain.

They continued talk a lot during their dinner. At least an hour had gone by before they realized where they were or how quickly the time seemed to fly. Mort loved the conversations they shared. There was an always a laugh at each new subject. Each time Mort felt like he could go on forever just talking to her. Just like tonight. Mort continued to watch her eat after she slit another piece of lettuce into her mouth she looked away towards the people who were dancing.

Mort didn't look away. Instead he found himself looking down at her blouse looking further down towards her bosom. He thought for a moment he was in another place. Perhaps a hotel. His body felt as if it were there, but he continued a sitting position. Marta stood in front of him nodding her head. She was soaking wet. Slowly she moved her hands to the top of her blouse. Mort watched her closely never looked down or away. Only at her deep brown eyes that hypnotized him.

"Mort?" Marta suddenly said. Mort woke up from his dream before Marta could unbutton anything. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked. Mort didn't realize that while he was daydreaming that he had been really staring at her chin all along.

"No." he replied.

"Is the food okay--you haven't been eating much." she said.

"It's good." How I can eat when I'm thinking of all these naughty thoughts about you, he thought of saying but didn't. Would it have been too flirty or send out the too-fast-too-soon signal? She could take it as being too forward. Perhaps it would charm her. Still Mort didn't say it.

"You know what I think?" she asked.

"What?" Mort asked.

"I think we need to dance."

"Dance? I'll pass I'm not a very good dancer." Mort said.

"I'll teach you." Marta suggested.

They heard some music playing louder as the saxophone played it's solo. Marta stood up with her hands out in front for Mort to take. She moved her hip from side to side.

"Danza con mi." she said. What, he thought of asking but Marta must have known he didn't speak Spanish. Yet he felt he knew what she was saying; to dance with her. Mort gave up quickly and lay his hands in hers. After all what was he going to be let her speak Spanish until he learned a new language?

His heart began to beat faster from his nervousness. What if I step on her feet or fall down or knock her over, he thought. More question of the sort ran though his mind. Marta walked as she held his hand to the middle of the dance floor. He followed as he was being pulled along like a toddler with his mommy in a crowed place. Surrounded by other couples who were on their own dates dancing closely together.

When Marta turned to face Mort she folded her arms around his neck one by one. Mort just stood there listening to the music playing which now came a man's voice. She touched his hands lightly and placed them at her waist. His hands felt like they were frozen. They rested on her waist loosely. Marta started to move her feet slowly. Mort began to move his feet as well.

They circled around the dance floor slowly as the music played. When she went left he went left. When she moved he moved simple as pie or so he thought. Marta's foot moved to the right and like clockwork Mort moved his foot to the right also. Only this time his foot fell over hers.

"Ouch." she said in a soft voice. Mort looked down at his foot realizing that it settled on top of hers.

"I'm sorry." He said lifting his foot off of hers and back on he hardwood flooring. They started to dance again. The song ended and everyone stopped to clap. So did Marta and Mort. Some of the couples started to leave or go back to their seats. Mort took a step toward the booth but felt Marta's arm on his wrist. She pulled him back over closely to her.

"Let's go through a full song this time." she said. I don't wanna, the toddler in Mort's mind wanted to say, but a piano had already started to play. This time they were to dance to a different beat. Marta put her right hand on his shoulder and her left was held by his left hand. His right hand remained on her waist still not letting himself touch too tightly. Marta moved to the left. Once again Mort's foot landed on hers.

"Sorry." he sighed. As the music continued to play Mort watched his feet so not to miss up again. This time when she moved right he waited until she moved again to move right but he had to move quicker to catch up. At least I'm not stepping on her, he thought. But still he urined for the moment the song ended. Then suddenly Marta's finger touched his chin bringing his head up.

"Just follow my lead." she whispered. She moved her body to the right. "You move one foot at a time after I do." she whispered. Mort moved his right foot toward her. This time without stepping on hers which he found to be an tremendous victory. A smile appeared on his face. Mort now could dance without stepping on her feet.

They continued to dance along with the music of Have a little faith in me by John Hiatt. Soon Mort stopped looking at the floor and up at Marta's ravishing face. As he grew more confident in himself he gripped her waist tighter. Then soon she let him lead. Marta slowly placed her head on Mort's shoulder when Mort took over during the chorus. Mort closed his eyes as his heart was already at a normal speed, but had a different feeling inside. Like a feeling you get when you see your lover. Like when you get lost in a melody of a song and just want to sing along.

Marta began to tighten her hand on his. Mort felt her breathe on his neck as she sighed and the warmth of her touch relaxed him. The touch of her hand so smooth it made his heart feel like it was dancing on water. Every breathe he took he could feel her move up on his chest as his lungs expanded. Chills ran down his spine and down to his legs even to the tips of his toes. His worries seemed to be washed away and forgotten. Nothing else mattered.

He slowly ran his fingers down her hand from the tips of her fingers to her palm making her sigh once more. The warmth of her skin on his was like a soft blanket. Then his hand entered between each of her four fingers and her thumb. Mort watched as he did so. He found Marta was watching him also.

She moved her arm further around his neck pulling them closer together. Mort didn't shy away instead he moved his hand to rest now on her back. Now he was close enough to get a whiff of her hair. It smelt as good as her perfume. Mort rubbed her back as they twirled around the dance floor.

The song came to another piano break. Then the song came to a stop. But they remained in their position for a moment longer. Marta was the first to move. She looked up at Mort smiling showing her teeth. Mort couldn't help but smile back.

The evening continued with more dancing (Mort's idea), but the night soon came to a end. They headed back to the theater. Mort's car had been there all night in the cold waiting for him to arrive back. Marta pulled in the parking lot next to Mort's car then turned off the engine.

"I had nice time." she said. Mort handed her his styrofoam box of his uneaten steak dinner.

"Me too." Mort agreed as he pushed the red button on his seatbelt and the metal buckle came out of the slot. Mort let go of the belt as it pulled itself back into it original position. Mort then reached over to take his box out of Marta's hands.

"So where did you learn to dance so well?" he asked.

"My mother taught me. She was a dancer. Plus I teach dancing lessons on weekdays." she said with her elbow in the arm of her seat resting her head in the palm of her hand.

"You continue to amaze me." They shared another smile together. "Well I'm going to get going and I'll read your book." Mort said.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise." He reached for the door handle. He pushed it open and put his foot onto the ground. Then he stepped his whole body out of the car shutting the door behind him. He couldn't help feeling something was missing, but he didn't turn around.

She is amazing, he thought as he reached into his pocket for his keys. For behind him he thought he heard a door shut, but didn't look up. He felt the tip of the key and gripped it tight. He pulled it out looking for the right size key for his car.

"Mort!" he heard someone calling. That time Mort turned around. There was Marta coming toward him holding out his white box. Oh I did forget something, he thought, but found he already said it out loud.

"Maybe you should have just thrown it away after all." Marta said handing the box over to him.

"No I was going to wait until I got home to do that." he joked.

"Or just leave it in my car." Marta played along with the joke.

"That one hadn't crossed my mind . . . no I was going to eat it."

"You paid for it." she said. Marta took a step closer toward Mort. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Mort replied.

"For coming out tonight."

"No problem." I just really got lucky tonight, he thought of saying but didn't. Instead he pushed the unlock button to his car from his keys. He put his hand to the door handle opening the drivers side. He leaned over the seat and placed his box in the passenger's seat. Then back slowly out. He looked over to his right too see Marta still standing there. His heart jumped and did a little dance, but he didn't let her see that.

Marta took another step closer. She was now close enough to touch. Mort felt like wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest.

"I hope that wasn't your goodbye." she said. Mort raised his eyebrows.

"Oh no . . . I just . . ." Think that you would want to stand out her in the cold with me until we both fall into each others arms.


"Thought maybe you wanted to go home." Mort wanted to slap himself after he said that. He needed to think of something to say. Maybe something like, of course not then giving her a hug would be more suitable. But yet it was too late to do so.

"Perhaps . . . we could do this again sometime." she suggested.

"Yea . . . yea I-I'd like that." Mort said. Cold chills ran though his body from the wind that passed though. His skin felt frozen. When he rubbed his hands together they felt rough. Mort started to shiver a little.

Marta took another step closer. Now she was close enough where the tip of their shoes touched.

"Me too." She whispered. Before Mort knew he she was leaning in towards him. Her luscious lips fell upon his frozen lips. He closed his eyes giving into the power of her kiss. Mort could taste her only for a few seconds. He wasn't sure, but it felt only like two seconds had passed, but all the passion in the world filled his heart. She pulled her lips apart from his leaning away then turning away from him.

"Sorry." she said looking down at her feet. Suddenly she slipped away from him beginning to walk away to her car. To drive off feeling stupid for making the first move. The move that Mort felt he should have made, but realized that he was the stupid one.

How long has she wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss her, he asked himself. He didn't know. He couldn't have known, but he knew that he had feelings for her the moment they met.

He opened his eyes to see she was only a foot away from him now. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He only saw the back of her dangling hair looking as black as coal and maybe just as cold. She moved like a black panther in the night. She had her hand up to her head with her elbow extended out parallel to the ground.

Just then something came over Mort. Suddenly he stepped forward quickly gently taking her by the wrist. When she turned around he pulled up towards him. I hope I don't get slapped for this, he thought then kissed her tenderly.

They kissed for about ten seconds. Much longer then before. Marta's hand that had been on her head was now resting against Mort's cheek. She swung her free arm around his neck then slowly moved her other head from his cheek to the back of his neck. They pulled away at the same time.

"I'm not." Mort whispered. Marta only smiled letting Mort know it was okay to kiss her again as he was eager to do. He slowly reached up to lay his hands on her gentle cheeks.

The night had turned out better then he expected. Mort finally had her in his arms and he held her there tight. The cold didn't bother him anymore. Nothing else mattered. Only the warmth of her body was all that he wanted.