Angel of the Night, pt 4

They had reached their destination, and as Bernard searched his pockets for some smaller coins to make the tip split equitable, Maxine swung her fishnet-clad legs out of the cab and stood up, straightening her dress. Looking up, she sucked in her breath and took a step back.

A sultry-faced young buck had moved in for the kill. He tossed back his wavy black locks away from his deep blue eyes and lowered his chin to look into Maxine’s eyes. His steamy glance made her feel flushed and a little sweaty. He parked one hand on his slim hip and pursed his sensuous lips.

“Hi, Doll,” he said in a masculine drawl.

“Uh, hi there, Sweetie.” She noticed how his shirt buttons were straining against the movement of his strength underneath the material. What a hunk!

Since he just stood there, sweeping his smoldering gaze over her coiffed and heeled person, she spoke again.

“Going to the fandango?” Maxine motioned to the Catholic fellowship hall, from where the aroma of garlic and scorched pasta emanated.

“I am if you are. I’m Rolf, Rolfie to you,” he whispered intimately.

“I’m Maxine,” she managed to croak out.

“And I’m Bernard,” Maxine’s date announced as he stepped from the cab, still counting his coins. “Shall we remove ourselves from this adumbral street and join the merry throng?”