As Karen walked up the steps and through the open doorway of the church, she knew this Sunday would be special. She hadn't been to the church before, but she was there today to support her younger brother and sister-in-law as the congregation threw a baby shower for them.
Matt and Cindy had met at the church several years ago. Now Cindy was due in May.
As Karen stepped into the sanctuary and looked for three seats -- you know the drill: not one too conspicuous, not one too close to other people -- she spotted a pew ahead of a man sitting alone.
Ben had arrived only minutes before, hitting "do not disturb" on his phone and stuffing money into the offering envelope before the service started, and didn't notice Karen as she scooted into the row ahead of him. Once he did, however, he was intrigued by her curly blonde locks, then he saw Cindy and Matt scoot in next to her.
"She must be a friend of Cindy's," he thought.
When the "passing of the peace" time came in the service, Karen turned to Ben, and they both stammered some sort of greeting.
Ben was just short of 6 foot, maybe in his late 40s or early 50s, with broad shoulders that spoke of time put in at the gym. He wore glasses that hid his blue eyes -- sadly -- unless you looked closely, and he had short-cut brown hair was starting to gray at the temples leading to stubbly salt-and-pepper facial hair. He looked kind of professorial in his relaxed plaid shirt and blue jeans.
Karen had always been intrigued by older men, but she had never acted on her impulses. This guy made her want to instantly reach out and touch his body, kiss his stubble and know more about him.
Karen, Ben figured, was in her late 20s, her hair falling to her shoulders. Her face, though, is what stopped him in his tracks -- she was stunning. Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled and her hair bobbed across her forehead. Under her sweater, blouse and skirt that stopped just above the knee, he imagined, she had a tight 5'7" body -- not a model-like stick figure but one with curves he'd love to explore if given the chance.
Yeah, the chance. Not likely, he thought: A 20-something doesn't go for an old guy with a kid nearly as old as her.
With her breasts sighing, Karen watched Ben as he moved around the sanctuary during the minute-long meet-and-greet, easily joking with kids and chatting with seniors. And Ben, returning to his seat, remained cautiously entranced by the woman sitting just inches in front of him. As he sang hymns, he wondered if she could hear his husky baritone voice among the others.
In a way, he felt he was singing to her.
After the service, at the baby shower, Ben was talking to Matt when Karen bound over to them.
"Oh, Ben -- this is my sister, Karen," Matt said.
"Your sister!" Ben said, and then tried to conceal how much he'd already been thinking about this woman. "I mean, I was just wondering recently if you and Cindy had siblings."
"Yep," Karen said. "He's one of my little brothers -- there are two of them -- and now Cindy is my sister."
Ben was dumbfounded as she smiled and he saw her eyes light up again.
Someone pulled Matt away to another group, leaving Ben alone with Karen. "Snap out of it!" he said to himself.
"What do you do, Karen?"
"I'm an interior designer -- mostly for companies' offices. Steady corporate work." She grinned. "And you?"
"I'm a journalist, a sportswriter. I write about sports." Duh -- he thought.
"So what's the 'scoop'?" she said with a giggle, surreptitiously checking to look at his left hand. No ring.
He told her about the Super Bowl he'd just covered and some of the people he'd met over the years, trying not to bore her while trying to impress her without looking like he was bragging.
She told him about her work, the crazy things some companies wanted to do with their offices and how she often had to talk them down or just go with the flow. "The customer's always right," she said mockingly.
"Is there some overarching theme, a piece of you that you put into those drab corporate offices? I mean, how hard is it to put real personality into spaces like that?"
"Are you saying I have 'real personality'?" She laughed. "Well, thank you, Mr. Ben. Just wait until you get to know me better."
He wondered to himself, "How much better?" But instead he heard the gravelly words flow unfettered from his mouth.
They both paused for a moment. Well, now that was out there.
"So," he said. "I think I'm going to take off. Um... it's been really nice talking to you, Karen."
He wheeled to walk away but then turned back to her.
"But I might as well say it: I'll be at my car in the parking lot across the street. If you want to, maybe, extend the afternoon together, I'll be there for five minutes. If you come, I'd be overjoyed."
He gave her a wry look. "And if you don't, I'll drive away embarrassed but forever intrigued by the angel I talked with, if only for a few minutes."
She stood still. He pivoted again and walked out the side door.
Karen's insides felt weirdly like they had turned to liquid. This older man, in a short, casual conversation, had made her mind spin with possibilities. She was getting warm.
"Are you OK?" Matt asked as he walked over to her, seeing her flushed.
"Um, yeah. I... um... don't know what hit me. I'm just going to the restroom, then I think I'm taking off. It's all a little overwhelming, isn't it?"
"OK," Matt said. "Call us later."
She forgot about recovering in the bathroom. All she could think about now was this man who had flirted with her in a church of all places. Yeah, she was flirting a little, but she had done more straightforward flirting at bars, where the returns were much more charged than "How much better?"
But Karen was charged herself now. She was curious. She was excited. She wanted to know where this would go: Lunch? Her place?
Her mind ran wild as she crossed the street and walked into the small parking lot, where she saw Ben standing against the side of a car. He sighed and turned, reaching for the keys in his pocket, when he saw Karen standing behind the car.
Oh, my God, he thought.
Karen, meanwhile, wondered if she could match his boldness, even if his was a slip of tongue. She wanted to know him -- really know him -- but how could she push this forward? The thoughts dashed through her brain to the point she felt herself getting wet with expectation.
She steeled herself, slowly walked next to him and paused.
"Where's your phone?" she said, and Ben grabbed his mobile from his pocket and handed it to her.
He tried to see what she was doing, but she just grinned at him and kept moving her fingers across the keyboard.
Karen turned the screen toward him with one hand and, with her other hand, softly took hold of Ben's hand.
"This," she said, "is my address and phone number.
"And this," she said, moving his hand under her skirt and up to her panties, "is my wet pussy."
His fingers automatically moved against the damp cloth.
"I'm intrigued by YOU, Mr. Ben. In some of the same ways I think you're intrigued by me. Now if you can keep up, you can follow me to my place and we can get to know each other better, or, if you get lost, you can find me," she said, wagging the phone.
He brought his fingers up to his mouth, and his other hand reached for the phone, half grabbing it, half grabbing her long, soft fingers.
He looked into her electric eyes.
"I will always find you," he said.
