A Taste of Spring

DEZMOND
Dezmond took another long drink from his beer. A light touch on his shoulder had him looking around but it wasn't Fallon. Of
course, it wasn't his friend, even though he was about twenty minutes late already.
"Can I get you anything else, Dez? Another beer?" The waitress smiled.
She's new, Dez thought when he focused on her pretty face. What was her name again?
"No thank you, Katy," he said, remembering at the last minute. He told himself to smile. When the smile she sported grew wider,
Dez figured he looked genuine enough.
"If you need anything at all, just let me know."
Dez watched Katy walk away. She didn't look back but he knew that she knew he was still watching her. The extra swing of her
hips confirmed it.
Shaking his head, Dez finished his beer then sat his empty glass back on the table. He sat against the wall in his corner, a little
spot that was in the bar section of the establishment. It was the perfect spot to see the bar patrons at Murie's. It was his
grandfather's spot and now it was his.
Dez focused on the beauty who came inside about twenty minutes ago. He noticed her immediately. She looked to be taller than
average height, but shorter than his 6'2". Her hair, tiny neat brown braids, was pulled away from her pear-shaped face; and while
he couldn't tell the color of her eyes from this distance they were surrounded by dark lashes and he imagined they were nice.
She carried herself with the poise of a dancer. Not to mention that she was killing it in that gray mini dress.
(Damn her legs go on forever. Is she a dancer?)
Dez shook his head. It was none of his damn business what she looked like or did for a living. Still, he couldn't help looking over
at her again.
She sat at the bar, sipping on what looked like wine. It didn't escape his notice that she looked to the door a few times then
looked at her watch as if she was waiting for someone. Of course, a woman that attractive would be with someone. But...maybe
she was waiting for a friend too.
(Women are disastrous to your sanity and career.)

Dez stood. He wasn't going to waste another minute waiting for Fallon. The jerk. He had too many things to do. Though, if he
was being honest, 'cause lying to oneself is plain stupid, he had nothing to do but read more horrible reviews.
"I hate critics," Dez grunted under his breath as he made his way to the doors.
Murie's was never crowded on Mondays so it was easy moving through the tables but he had to avoid the regulars who made
the slow days their own just as he did. That was one of the reasons Dez loved Murie's.
The scent of food wafted around him, waking his hunger. It was a little after seven in the evening and he should eat, but it didn't
matter to him if he ate here or at home. Nothing much matters, Dez thought as he avoided a customer he often saw here.
He nodded at the cute patron but didn't slow for conversation.
The pangs of hunger tugged at Dez a little more as he passed a few feet from the doors to the breezeway. Unlike the bar side,
the restaurant side of the establishment was lively tonight. That side was usually crowded seven days a week but each side had
its entrance, and they were connected only by a lovely trellis breezeway. The two groups of patrons didn't have to interact and
usually didn't because you could order and have a delicious meal brought over to the bar.
As Dez approached the exit, he picked up on conversations but one stuck out.
"Come on sweetheart, I'm a really nice guy."
"Look," the beautiful woman who caught his eye at the bar said, "I'm not interested. I just want to wait for my friends and drink my
wine."
Dez slowed just a bit so he could get a good look at the man who was talking to her. He and the guy were evenly matched in
height. The guy was a little thicker but he shouldn't be a problem if things got physical. The guy was a cad and she was obvious
about her lack of interest.
"I can be your friend, baby. I can be all the friend you need." The guy shifted as if he was going to move to the stool beside her.
Dez stepped in between the two before Mr. Admirer could get any closer to her and effectively blocked the guy's view of her. At
first, Dez was just going to advise the guy to take off, but as he closed the distance between him and the beauty, he was struck
with awe and a burst of attraction that surprised him.

Instead of just intervening, Dez reacted to her sinfully addictive scent by leaning close to the goddess with the prettiest light
brown eyes he'd ever seen, so close that he could have kissed her luscious lips. He reached into his pocket.
(God...those lips.)
What was even odder than his behavior was the fact that she didn't move back or push him away, so Dez took that in stride and
grazed his lips over her cheek as if they were old friends. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you sitting here." He lifted his cell, "I was
checking the game scores." Dez glanced over his shoulder, giving the guy a cold questioning look. "Who's your friend?" Dez
looked back at her.
To her credit, the Beauty just looked at him. Not in a way that would suggest that she was thinking 'What the hell?' but in a way
that intrigued Dez. She looked at him with intense interest.
"I'm not sure," she finally said quietly as she looked around Dez, but it sounded more like a question. Her gaze moved back to
him. "Then, you have a table already?"
"I do," Dez smiled. He offered her his hand to help her off the stool. He noted that she was taller than he initially thought, though
he still had her by a few inches with her wearing flats. She was toned as well, and by the way her clothes fit her body, he knew
that it was a work of art.
Dez boldly took her hand and led her from the bar. He watched her to see how she would handle her admirer as she walked
away, and her response was perplexing. She didn't smirk, grin, or say something smart. The heavenly creature just lowered her
head shyly as she allowed him to lead her away.
When he got her to his booth, his previous thoughts of leaving, food, or Fallon were distant memories. Not even reviews or critics
could pull him away from this moment. Dez was captivated, which was an unusual feeling that he was interested in exploring.
Seated across from her, he gave the beauty his undivided attention.