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The Pearly Gates: A Modern Noir

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Miranda moaned. I licked my lips.

“I told you that you’d like it,” I purred, rubbing my leg against hers.

She placed the sandwich back on the aluminum foil and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.  The bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel from this deli was particularly greasy. Just the way it was meant to be.

“I can feel my arteries clogging,” she drawled, glaring at me.

I smirked. “Worth it.”

Miranda deposited the napkin back on the table and draped her arm over the back of my chair.

“Does this mean I get to select our next meal together?”

“Maybe. You’re on probation after I found out how much that Brazilian place cost.”

A devious smile touched her lips as she mimicked, “Worth it.”

With a laugh, I asked, “Where were you thinking?”

She pinched a small piece of bacon that had fallen to the foil off the sandwich and lightly plopped it in her mouth.

“The townhouse.”

“For dinner? Usually we save that for dessert,” I snickered back, placing my hand on her thigh.

“I have the twins this week,” she explained nonchalantly, glancing around the store, “They should probably meet the woman that saved their mother’s life.”

“That part might be a little hard to explain.”

There was a pause as her eyes slowly slid to meet mine.

“How about their mother’s girlfriend?”

Even after everything, she still knew how to leave me breathless.

“Yeah?”

Her answer was to lean forward and press her lips to mine.  We kissed without hesitation in the busy little deli.

When we parted, I beamed as she removed her arm from my chair and returned to her breakfast.

“Can I bring anything over?” I asked.

Miranda frowned thoughtfully as she again picked up the sandwich.  “No bourbon.”