12 Years
Makes a Difference
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Romantic Fiction Online
provided
by PneumaSender
A Stolen
Kiss
Chapter 13
Two
weeks before Christa's seventeenth birthday, she made a request at dinner.
"Mom, Dad, I don't want a party this year." Their eyes spoke their
question for her. "You always do something nice, and I have always
enjoyed that, but this year, I'd like to just have dinner together instead,
just us four. Then, as if to clarify, she said, “I want to spend the evening
with just you, Mom, Dad, and Patrick."
Although
the last thing he needed for his frazzled emotions was to spend an extended
amount of time with Christa right now, Patrick realized that she had made
this request as an expression of their renewed friendship. It made him feel
honored, and he didn't want to disappoint her.
"That
sounds nice," he said softly, feeling a bit shy. Her parents agreed, and
they got right down to business, helping her decide upon on a good restaurant.
After that was settled, Dr. Colby announced, "Well, Honey, you were
turning 17, and we had decided on a big party with lots of surprises. But
since you'll save us all that expense, why don't we just buy you a more
useful gift – oh, maybe an ugly little rust bucket of a car?" Patrick
could see that Dr. Colby hadn't upset Christa a bit with his teasing
comments. "If it has wheels and it rolls, I'll take it!" she said
with a big, shiny-eyed smile.
He
loved her, Patrick realized anew. Though he had hardly talked to her these
days, even though they had only touched once, and in spite of the fact that
she was way younger – and better looking – than himself, Patrick could not
deny the attraction. And it wasn't just physical.
Only
during the moments that they touched would the physical attraction spark.
Usually, however, it tended to manifested itself in a desire to help her, to
look at her, and just to be there for her when she needed him. He also loved
talking to her and hearing her express her opinions.
Christa is beautiful inside and
out. Every thought of her makes me smile. And, I've got it bad, Patrick
thought for the umpteenth time.
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If
Patrick could keep Christa seated across from him for the rest of his life,
he felt that he would be totally happy. Christa sat there reading the menu
while he took in the lovely view before him. But he had to look away
eventually.
She
asked, "What are you having?" and he did his duty, thoroughly
scanning the menu and finding just the thing. "Shrimp scampi. Since Mom
never makes shrimp, I seldom get to have any," he answered. Clearing her
throat, she said, "I'm allergic to shrimp, so I'll keep looking."
Remembering
such cases, he asked, "Do you get a reaction when it's in the air, too,
by breathing it in?" Her sheepish nod told him he would be changing his
choice. "Then I'll take the Smothered Chicken." Christa smiled and
said, "Thanks. I'll have the same."
To
see that beautiful smile, her joyful blue eyes, he would have eaten stones
right about now. Realizing that he was staring and that he had sighed deeply
and dreamily, he lowered his gaze. For a moment, he fidgeted, pretending to
be interested in arranging his cutlery.
Christa
couldn't be sure, but she was almost positive that he was blushing.
"Patrick?" He looked up briefly and she could see the telltale
signs of a full-fledged flush. "What is it?" she asked, amused.
What
could he say? He didn't dare tell her what he was thinking. That had the
potential for disaster all over it. "I can't say," he answered
meditatively. "What do you mean?" Hoping to distract her, he
quickly pointed out something on the dessert menu.
"I've
been looking at the cheesecake all along. I must try it," she agreed,
going along with him. Somehow, though, she knew that there was more to this
blush than he was saying. He had been staring into space and sighing. What
was that all about? Could it be what she was thinking?
That
evening, upon arriving home, they had all sat in the living area of the great
room, talking and playing games. Finally, while Christa and Patrick played a
game of checkers, Mom served coffee. Patrick sat with his coffee,
seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts for so long that Christa decided to
make her move.
Just
then, catching Patrick unaware, Christa managed a jump that traveled all over
the board, capturing six of his pieces and ending the game. "Gee,
Patrick, you are doing badly tonight," she teased. He smiled and nodded,
but his eyes didn't look directly at her. He was definitely distracted. Once
again, she wondered allowed herself to be hopeful about what it could mean.
"Christa,"
Dad said finally, "It's time you go meet your new car.” She let out a
short squeal and hugged him. "Oh, Dad!" Handing her the keys, he
let her run to the garage. Then, they all filed out to see the car.
When
Christa flicked on the garage lights, she gasped. It was indeed an old car,
but it was a good brand, sturdy and dependable, and it had a new coat of
paint. "Shiny," she muttered as she shyly ran her hand across the
roof.
"Yeah,
well, for that you have Patrick to thank. He paid for the paint job. We just
bought the car."
Smiling,
she walked over to him and said, "Thank you." Then, impulsively,
she reached up and let her face hover just inches from his. Then, finally, in
the frozen silence that ensued, Christa kissed Patrick right on the lips. As
she did, she could feel him leaning closer, kissing her back. Though the
shift was small and he never lifted his hands, his response was both surprising
and exciting.
Backing
away in a rush, Christa bumped into the car. Then, she looked up and her gaze
rested on her astonished parents. She would definitely have some explaining
to do! Smiling in spite of her embarrassment, she called, "Thanks
again," as she ran up the stairs and disappeared without so much as a
"Goodnight."
There
in her bedroom, Christa could barely contain a very childish fit of giggles.
Somewhere inside, she knew that she shouldn't have kissed Patrick, but,
unable to think of anything but the soft, passionate response she felt in the
few seconds their lips had touched, her giddy excitement kept her upbeat. It
only took a few more seconds, however, for her to finally see what she had
done. And in front of her parents!
I, Christa, a 17 year old girl,
have just kissed a 28 year old man on the lips in front of my parents!
Unable to contain another giggle of joy at his reaction, she hid her head
under the covers of her bed. Then, in the dark, she sobered.
Christa
suddenly felt an overwhelming dread. How would she explain this? What would
Patrick say? And did the way he kissed her back mean that he felt the same
way, or did it just mean that he was male?
Christa
had read enough to understand that a man pretty much always responded
positively to a kiss. But she had a very strong inkling that his response had
nothing to do with any of that. She knew by the way his body had responded
that he was at least physically attracted to her. That was certain. But could
it be more? Could he be in love with her the way she was with him?
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Patrick
stood frozen as Christa ran up the stairs to her room. Dr. Colby stared at
her retreating body and then turned to Patrick, shaking his head in vague
annoyance. “What was that about? Can you tell me?" Patrick replied
honestly enough that he hadn't seen that coming and certainly didn’t
understand it. Mom remained silent, but she stared solemnly at his flushed
face. It didn't take long for her to realize that everything was not as it
seemed.
Colby
was about to apologize for Christa, but it was apparent to Mandy that this
was not appropriate under the circumstances, so she interrupted him, saying, “Not
now, Darling.” As she took his hand, Mandy said, "Colby, Honey, let's
just go on to bed and talk this over in the morning." Patrick nodded, released
a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and quickly made his escape.
Awakening
at
It
occurred to Patrick that having a private talk might be a good idea. Still,
slipping out into her bedroom might be misinterpreted. With what had happened
tonight, he had better steer clear of her until morning. So he set about to
pass the night in prayer.
12 Years Makes a Difference
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