Stepford Friends
Chapter 5 - Big Bad Wolf

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Jewels, Jewels, Jewels! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You rock the beta house down!

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Lorelai stood in her bathroom reliving the moments on the stairs. Oh boy! That man is dang-er-ous! She thought with a wry smile. She took the opportunity to swallow her eight o'clock anti-inflammatory prescription and once again to fluff up her long, spiraling curls.

She searched through her drawers to find something comfortable, yet first-date acceptable. Foregoing the silly pajama bottoms featuring a cat motif with a feather in its mouth which read: 'Bad Kitty,' she opted for plain black yoga pants, which from a distance could pass for regular slacks. She removed the bulky plastic ankle brace, but left on the bandage. Bunching up one of the legs, she carefully pulled it over her bandaged ankle before she slid in her other leg. She pulled them up mid-rise and tied the drawstring loosely below her navel. Then she pulled on some black socks to cover her unsightly bandage.

She had more options for her top and wanted to choose something sexy but casual. She remembered Luke's comments about her chest and smiled. Deciding to play up that particular asset, she settled on a soft periwinkle baby-knit sweater. It had short sleeves and fit snugly around her mid-drift, grazing her breasts and flaring into a vee which drew the eye up to showcase her face. After shedding her "date" clothes and donning her lounge wear, she began to relax and feel more like herself.

Sliding on one last layer of lip-gloss, she smoothed it over her bottom lip with her pinky. Finally content with her appearance, she glanced around the room and noticed clothes strewn around the floor. She had straightened up earlier, so it was a matter of scooping up the piles and shoving them into her closet, which wasn't easy to do on one foot. Satisfied that her room was company ready, just in case, she headed downstairs.

In the kitchen, Luke was busily placing dishes and flatware on the table. He had already found a red checkered tablecloth and matching napkins on one of the pantry shelves. He chastised himself silently, Way to play it cool! One glimpse of thigh and you have her pinned against the wall with your hands on her ass. He was hoping that some distance between them might deter him from losing control again. He placed a chair between each of the seats where they would soon be sitting, allowing Lorelai to prop up her leg from a safer distance.

The last bit of ambiance was music, and that was a no-brainer. He slid Sinatra Reprise: The Very Good Years into the CD player, pushed shuffle and flicked off some lights while 'The Best is Yet to Come' filled the air. He spied some candles on the mantle and used them to recreate the intimate atmosphere of the restaurant where he had planned on taking her.

When she entered the newly transformed kitchen, Luke was waiting to escort her to her seat. Their eyes met and held before the word, "Amazing!" escaped her lips.

He held out her chair and took the crutches from her as she settled into her seat. He leaned the crutches within easy reaching distance, then gestured to the makeshift ottoman. "For your foot," he explained.

"Thank you," she said through a bright smile. "Who needs a restaurant, anyway?"

"My thoughts exactly."

As soon as the food arrived, Luke served it and uncorked the wine.

"Luke, I'm sorry that you have to wait on me hand and foot, literally. I was really looking forward to you not having to do that tonight. You've really made it special. Thank you."

"I'm just glad to spend time with you," he said as he poured a splash into each glass. They swirled and sniffed their glasses, then held them up to the candlelight, admiring the deep burgundy glowing like stained glass.

"Here's to this thing we're doing. Me, you." He lifted his glass and captured her gaze.

"To this thing we're doing. You and me," she toasted with the clear ringing sound of crystal and took a drink. He filled their glasses and smiled.

They ate their catered dinner accompanied by light-hearted banter and laughter. Each offered the other a taste of their respective pizza. "Here," she said, "try mine." She held up a new slice and he heartily bit the point off. He nodded his head and raised his eyebrows. "Not bad, in fact, it's really good," he admitted.

"That's what extra saturated fat does for food, makes it delicious," she teased.

"I'll be sure to remember that. Now try mine," he said, holding up a slice for her to taste.

"Do I have to?"

"I tried yours."

"But mine is normal."

"Mine isn't normal?"

"Artichoke and eggplant are not normal toppings for a pizza. Especially eggplant."

"What's wrong with eggplant?"

"It's purple! How can you put something purple on a pizza?"

"So now there are color rules for pizza toppings?"

"Yes, red, white, and meat. That's it. No purple."

"Meat isn't a color."

"So not the point."

"Culinary coward." He moved it closer, with a crooked, challenging smile.

"I'm not a coward, I just have an aversion to purple food."

"What about grapes? I've seen you eat grapes."

"That's different."

"How is that different? They're purple too."

"Hah! And they never belong on a pizza!" She followed smugly saying, "I rest my case."

"You are a case, Miss This-lettuce-is-getting-in-the-way-of-my-salad!" he said, holding the pizza just inches from her face. She shook her head. "Come on, Lorelai. What's it going to be? You gonna leave me hanging here? Or are you going to give it a try?"

"Are we still talking about pizza?" she asked, with a flirty smile.

"Don't try to distract me."

"But it's so gross," she whined.

"Come on, I wouldn't let you eat anything gross."

She hesitated, looking a little frightened of the toppings in front of her. Then she put her fingertips under his hand and pulled the piece toward her. She took a tentative bite. Covering her mouth, she said, "Actually, it's not so gross. It tastes like pizza. Boring, light-on-the-cholesterol-pizza, but pizza."

"Coming from you, that's a rave review," he laughed.

The wine and the conversation continued to flow. Each party was relaxed and at-ease with the company, but there was undeniable electricity hanging in the air. Comfortable silence filled the pauses as they shared intimate glances and soft touches on their arms and hands.

"How about if we take the rest of the wine onto the porch? It's a perfect night," he said.

Lorelai bit her lip uncertainly.

"What?" he asked.

"Um, Babette." She tilted her head toward her neighbor's house.

"Ah," he said, "you're right. They've probably already staked the place out. Let's try to keep this private tonight. How about the couch?"

She nodded and they made their way to the living room, where the music was louder. Luke brought the glasses, wine, and candles in two trips, flicking off a lamp and turning the stereo down on the way.

They settled hip to hip, with his arm around her shoulders. Using the coffee table as a shared footrest, they watched the candles flicker.

"So, how's the ankle?"

"It's a lot better now. You were right. I needed to take it easy tonight."

"He kissed her on the temple and whispered, "I hated seeing you hurt."

She nodded, then looked over at him. "Luke, do you think I'm a pain-in-the-ass?"

"Lorelai, there are very few people who irritate me less than you do."

His answer made her smile as she snuggled into him, realizing how much she missed him and how she wasn't ready to feel his absence again. "Do you…will you stay with me tonight?"

She sensed him holding his breath and her stomach flipped at the thought that she might have asked for too much, too soon.

He inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay." They both moved deeper into each other, soothed by the knowledge that tonight's timeline had just been extended.

Sitting back comfortably listening to Ol' Blue Eyes sing, 'The Way You Look Tonight,' Luke tapped they rhythm on her thigh. He was more than content to sit by her, smelling her sweet floral perfume.

"So, are you using birth control?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah. I'm, um, on the pill."

"Then, raincoats?"

"Completely unnecessary, that is, unless you prefer to use them."

"I prefer not to." His flush was hidden in the dim light.

"It's good that we talk about this before, you know, it's too late. But, I think I should have said something along with the invitation," she said hesitantly.

"Okay?"

"Um, I want you to stay. I really do. So, please don't be mad. It's just… I'm not really sure if I'm ready for that type of relationship yet."

His jaw began to flex. "You're not ready for what type of relationship? I thought we decided that we wouldn't begin this if we weren't ready for it," he said, as he swung his legs off the coffee table and turned to face her. "I knew I shouldn't have pressured you into saying yes. God, why couldn't I just leave well-enough alone? I'm so stupid."

"You're mad at me for this?"

"Who says I'm mad?"

"The vein in your temple is throbbing!"

"I should have known," he said, standing up and walking around to the front of the coffee table to face her.

"Why are you getting up?"

"I knew this was too good to be true," he said, shaking his head.

"You're leaving me again?"

"I don't know, am I?"

"You got up," she said, starting to feel abandoned already.

"I told you I didn't want to just date you. And you knew that."

"I can't believe you're acting this way."

"Well, how do you expect me to act? I told you how I feel. You were very aware that I don't want a casual thing."

"I never said I would have sex with you tonight. You pounced on me!"

"Who the hell is talking about sex?"

"You are! You asked if I was on the pill."

"Well, I'm supposed to ask you that. It's the responsible thing to ask after you invite me to spend the night!"

"But I wasn't talking about sex. God! You are so dense! I even said I'm not ready for that type of relationship."

"Well, how am I supposed to understand what you're talking about. Don't tiptoe around the subject. Talk to me!" He said, his feet planted firmly in front of her.

Sensing that he wasn't going anywhere, she tried to clarify her statement. "I don't mean that I'm not ready for a relationship with you. I mean I'm just not ready for our relationship to be sexual yet."

His breathing slowed and he asked hopefully, "But, with us, you're okay with us?"

"Oh, yes. I want to be with you. I love what we've been doing so far." She reached for his hand and pulled him closer to her.

"But?"

"But, it's all so new, and unsettled."

He nodded.

"So, if you don't want to stay, you can change your mind. I understand it would be a lot to ask of you just to sleep here." She added shyly, "I only asked because I miss you."

"Lorelai, I meant it when I said that I'm happy just to be with you," he said, realizing that they hadn't seen each other in a long time and he really missed her too. "I guess I need to apologize for the whole stairs incident, huh?"

"No, not at all. I didn't know then that I wasn't ready."

"What changed? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you did everything perfectly. That's just it. I realized how dangerous you are."

"Like running with scissors dangerous?" he asked.

"More like the Big Bad Wolf dangerous." She laughed. "As in, 'Oh, my god. This man is going to break my heart' kind of dangerous."

It never occurred to him that she might be afraid. In all the years of wanting her and aching for her, he never once entertained the thought that he could hurt her. His lack of action was based entirely on his fear that she would reject him, or even worse, that she would accept him, then discard him without a second thought. His heart ached for her, yet soared at the same time. He'd have to show her how much he cared. If she's afraid of getting her heart broken, then she must at least have part of her heart in it.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he said.

"Well, we can do some things," she said with an impish grin.

"Okay, I'll follow your lead on that." He smiled. "But it won't be easy to resist you." Then, more seriously he said, "You know, you can tap the breaks anytime, Lorelai. I don't want to ruin this."

"I don't want to ruin it either."

He pulled her up to him and held her closely. Tucking a curved finger under her chin, he grazed her lips lightly with his. Inhaling each other's scents, he whispered, "You're so beautiful," before his lips settled on hers. He kissed her lightly, then pressed more insistently, needing more of her. She parted her lips and he dove in with zeal, wanting to taste and explore again. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held onto him for balance. He buried one hand in her hair, pressing her face to his.

They stood, completely engulfed in the searing heat of their kisses. His free hand stroked the wedge of skin that peaked out from under her sweater and the top of her pants. Wanting to experience more of him, she buried her head into the side of his neck where she softly kissed and nibbled his slightly salty skin. She could smell the after shave intermingled with soap and became enamored with the memory of last night's make out session. He peppered her neck with kisses and found a sensitive area below her ear that caused her to remain motionless in pleasure. Each kiss brought the passion to a new height and each touch ignited a series of sensations that caused their nerves to send jolts of electricity to a myriad of erogenous zones.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Luke asked huskily, "Can we go upstairs now?"

"Yeah, upstairs is good," she breathed.

"I'll give you a head start and meet you there," he said.

"Where are you going?" A slight worry creased her brow.

"I'm just going to blow out the candles, lock up, and bring you dessert."

"Dessert?" she asked aloud. Dangerous! she thought silently.

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To be continued upstairs…