TUESDAY TALES - "SEEDS" - Skip's story continues...

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. Sorry I had to skip a week, but my computer died. This week the word prompt is "seeds". We're back with Skip Quincy. This is his first date with Mimi Banner, widow of Rowley Banner. Thanks for stopping by.

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He raised his glass. “Here’s to getting to know you.” She joined in the toast.

“Of course, you already know a lot more about me, than I do about you,” he remarked, his gaze hot.

“Photographers usually leave their clothes on when they take pictures.” She shot him a sly glance.

“Unfortunately.”

Now it was her turn to laugh.

“How are you doing, now that Rowley’s gone?” He took her small hand in his large ones.

“I’m all right. It’s been an adjustment. But things weren’t great between us.”

“I understand he got nailed for domestic violence a couple of times.”

“Yes.” She lowered her gaze and slid her hand from his.

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to. I don’t want to pry.”

“It’s old news.”

“Just curious. Why did you stay with him?”

Her gaze connected with his. Her eyes were cold.

“Do you really expect me to tell you in fifty words or less?”

The conversation was going south and he’d better do something fast.

“Excuse me,” the waiter said, setting down a plate with a large steak on it. Relief flowed through Skip. After the server left, Mimi picked up her utensils.

“Have you ever hit a woman?” She asked, in a quiet, nonchalant voice.

“No! And I never would.” He needed to get that on the table.

“Good.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable with me because I’m bigger than you?”

“A little. Rowley was a lot bigger than me, too.”

“Let me tell you right now. You have nothing to fear. I’d never, and I mean, never, hit you.”

She stabbed a scallop with her fork, avoiding his gaze.

“I mean it!” He shook her hand.

Her face snapped up and her eyes flared. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You yanked on my arm.”

“A gentle shake, just to make my point.”

“You did make a point, but not the one you wanted.” She withdrew her hand from the table.

“Aw, come on. You’re not going to say that hurt, are you?”

She answered slowly. “Almost.”

“Almost doesn’t count. Hey, I’m a strong guy. It was a little tug. I didn’t mean for it to injure you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Good.”

Skip focused on slicing and eating his steak, sneaking a look at her from time to time. Perhaps dating Mimi wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. If she felt this way about his touch, simply used to emphasize his words, then how could he make love to her? Lovemaking sometimes included a grip here, or a strong thrust there. Would he have to worry that his lovemaking was too rough? He’d never had that complaint before –not from one single woman. He considered himself to be a gentle guy, especially with women. She'd planted seeds of doubt about their future. His brain mulled over the problem while his mouth chewed his food.

“Look, Skip. I like you. A lot. But I’m not ready for any hot and heavy romance.”

“You’re here with me. As a friend?” His heart sank. 

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