Walking to Fiona's car he comes out of his suit jacket and tosses it in the trunk along with the shopping bag. The midday sun is warm but not too unbearably so but he's still grateful Fiona's car has air condition unlike the old Charger.
He dials her cell phone number, after several rings it goes to voicemail and he sighs, hanging up. She always took his calls.
He cautiously opens the door to the loft and peers inside. Not seeing Fiona he relaxes but feels a cold splash of disappointment as he walks into the empty building.
He shuts the door but freezes as he sees a red dot from a laser floating on the metal door. It snakes its way very slowly from the lock to a few inches from his head. He turns around slowly and sees Fiona perched on his desk upstairs, her sniper rifle trained on him.
"Bang," she says smoothly and flicks off the laser and stands the gun up. He cocks his head to the side and folds his arms over his chest not amused. She smiles pleased with herself and slowly makes her way down the steps.
"So you're not answering my phone calls now?" He asks watching her. She has changed into a tight fitting royal blue dress and she's fixed her hair, it hangs in loose curls that fall past her shoulders. She looks absolutely stunning.
She brushes past, ignoring him and grabs her cell phone off the table next to the bed and drops it into a blue clutch. She sits in the green chair and slides on a pair of matching strappy high heeled wedges and stands up.
"Ready to go?" She asks him sliding a pair of large white sunglasses onto her face.
Recovering quickly from her change in mood he goes to hold the door open for her and follows her out. She calls back to him, "Don't forget my suitcase. The big one!" He gives her a look but doesn't question her, only goes back in and picks up the heavy piece of luggage. By the time he gets it into the trunk she's already in the car.
"You're driving," she says fixing her seatbelt in the passenger seat and opening her purse and pulling out her lipstick, taking the time as he drives to finish applying her makeup.
"Where would you like to go?" He asks cranking the car and pulling out into the street.
A twenty minute drive later and he finds himself sitting at a round table with a white table cloth and a freshly cut flower center piece overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. They are seated beside a huge window in the cool comfort of the air conditioner but they can hear the sounds of the ocean coming from the open patio deck that adjoins this section of the waterfront restaurant.
Fiona is hidden behind her menu and Michael sips iced water out of a fancy glass wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. She hadn't said a word to him the whole ride over here except to give him directions to the restaurant.
"Stop staring," Fiona orders not moving the menu away from her face. Michael tilts his head and just smiles at her exasperated tone. He knew she was enjoying herself even if she didn't want to admit it.
He reaches across the table and knocks the menu down so he can see her face. The tiny smirking smile that he receives instead of a glare is all he needs to know that he's doing something right.
"So is this a date?" He asks causally looking around at the nice restaurant before his eyes settle on her.
"Do you want it to be?" She questions, testing him, leaning back in her chair waiting on him to make the next move.
He lays his arm across the table, his palm up in invitation. She hesitates for a second before sliding her smaller hand into his.
His thumb traces over her fingers before he spreads his own and laces them around hers, locking them tight, securing him and her together.
His stomach growls loudly interrupting the moment and she chuckles at him before biting her lip.
A waiter comes over then and Fiona smiles up at him pulling her hand out of Michael's.
"Just in time. I'll have the special with the steamed vegetables." She tells him, enjoying the way the waiter is looking at her.
"And I'll have the filet minion, medium well with mashed potatoes and the steamed vegetables as well," Michael says louder than needed with a slight coolness to his tone which gets the waiter's attention on him and away from Fiona.
"Yes, sir," The young waiter says somewhat fearfully and scurries away to put their order in. Michael sees Fiona smirking at him knowing he was jealous, he narrows his eyes playfully at her and her smirk softens to a brilliant smile.
"Don't scare him Michael. At least wait until he brings our food first," she grins, a twinkle in her eye, enjoying this side of him.
He shifts, turning around in his chair watching as the waiter disappears into the kitchen.
"No, we couldn't have that now." He says, turning back around, a small smile lighting his face as he leans forward inches from her face. His eyes don't leave her face as he leans forward propping his arms on the table and captures her hands in his own. She stares at his mouth before her eyes flick up to look into his intense blue eyes, loving the way they crinkle around the edges when he genuinely smiles.
She closes the distance between them. Her lips are soft against his but they pull away all too soon.
"What?" He whispers wondering why she stopped.
"Does it hurt?" She asks softly and he's surprised at her tenderness. His fingers go to up to his lips, and he imagines how they must look, lip still swollen slightly and corner of his mouth lightly bruised.
"No," he lies and captures her lips between his. He goes slowly at first, the tip of his tongue asking permission into her mouth before exploring further. She tilts her head to the side letting him deepen the kiss and smiles against his mouth as she discovers he tastes sweet. She's warm, and tastes tangy with a hint of citrus that makes him crave more of her. His hand trails lightly up and down her arm. He can feel her foot rubbing lightly against his leg under the table, slowly moving upwards. "Fiona," his eyes open as he breathes out the warning, breaking away watching amused as she rolls her eyes and tells him, "You're no fun Michael," as she pulls away.