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She sliced off a piece of bread and handed it to Jake just as he was about to sit down. "Will you fry this in the bacon grease for me?"Jake took the bread and dropped it into the skillet, then turned the fire back on. He sat down and was able to take a couple of bites before Béla handed him a chunk of cheese she'd been carving."Can you put this on the bread when you turn it over?" she asked.Jake took the cheese and stood up, then noticed that she hadn't started eating, yet. "Don't you like your eggs?" Huh?" Béla asked, then replied, "Oh, sure! I just wanted some extra ... chewy stuff. You know?"Jake grinned and shook his head, then turned away to the stove. After turning the bread and adding the cheese to the surprisingly pleasant smelling bread, he sat back down and continued eating, noticing that Béla was eating, now, as well."I was thinking," she said through a mouthful of bacon. "It's finally getting warm enough that we could go up to my cabin." You have a cabin?" Jake asked,. She didn’t have to ask him twice. He was in the car in less time than it took for her to question what she’d just done. It was a wonder she didn’t crash the car on the short drive into the parking garage. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of him since he’d gracefully folded his big frame into the passenger seat. She assumed that since she hadn’t felt any jumps or bumps in the ride that she hadn’t killed anyone in her distraction. When she brought the car to a stop in her designated space she opened the door and stepped out, only to find that he rushed over to assist her…and he was looking at her like she was crazy. She’d offended him, run all over his chivalry. ‘Oh, well,’ she thought casting him an appreciative smile, ’I’ll make it all better in just a bit…’ She had the presence of mind to let him get the door for her. Another wonder, given that her instincts were telling her to grab him by the cock and head straight for the first soft, flat surface she encountered. She wanted to.
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He was sure of it. She normally arrived a little after the main rush, choosing to avoid the crush of the morning crowd. But for the past three days she'd come right at the peak, at a time when he couldn't do more than scramble up passcards as quickly as they were requested. She wouldn't meet his eyes, either; twice she'd deliberately engaged someone in conversation in the lobby and walked with them to the desk, manufacturing an excuse to avoid looking at or speaking to him. She looked flustered and nervous, and skittered away as soon as she'd jerked the card from his hand as if trying to avoid any contact with his skin. He couldn't decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign. She was fighting it, he was sure. But was her agitation a sign that she was starting to cave in? He hesitated a day in indecision, trying to decide if another push would bring capitulation or disaster. At last he slid the disk into her mailbox without note or comment. ***The com unit buzzed. It had been buzzing,.

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