Page 7 of Kissing Games
No response.
Charlie tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around.
‘¿Cómo?’
He stared. She was beautiful. Deep dark eyes framed by long lashes. Soft brown skin and full, luscious lips. He thrust the purse towards her. She looked between it and him, her eyes narrowing. She snatched it, shoved it over her shoulder into her backpack and pushed past him. It took six stompy steps for the heavy purse to work its way back down through her rucksack and out. Charlie caught it before it hit the floor and tapped her again on the shoulder. She whirled around and he held it out for her.
‘How did you do that?’ she asked, grabbing the purse.
Her voice, low and accented, sent a jolt of heat down to his dick.Woah there, boy.
‘Your bag is ripped.’
She shucked the rucksack from her shoulder and turned it around. ‘No!’ She pulled at the frayed edges of the bag, her lower lip trembling.
‘It’s okay, we can fix it.’
She looked at him, her eyes liquid. ‘How? How can I fix it?’
Don’t cry. For fuck’s sake, don’t cry on me.His heart was cracked enough right now. He didn’t need a pretty girl breaking it open any further.
‘I’ll fix it. Five minutes and it’ll be as good as new.’
‘How?
‘I’ll sew it.’
‘Sew it?You?’
Charlie clutched his chest in mock outrage. ‘I’ll have you know I’ve got a black belt in embroidery.’ She laughed and Charlie felt his cock swell.Fuck’s sake!He needed to hurry up and get his kit out, then repeatedly stab himself in the groin with the needle. He opened his bag and pulled out a smaller one, lifting from it a small sewing kit. ‘See? I told yousew.’ She rolled her eyes and giggled. ‘It appears I already have you institches,’ he continued, on a roll.
She shook her head at him but her eyes were dancing. ‘My patience is hanging by athread, strange man.’
Charlie grinned and gestured towards a row of seats.
She sat and handed him her rucksack. ‘Be careful now, Mr Sew-and-sew, this is very precious to me.’
‘I will treat it as the holy relic it is,’ replied Charlie solemnly. ‘Does it predate the Turin Shroud?’
The woman laughed again, showing off her perfect white teeth. Charlie’s stomach flipped. He’d never had such an effect on a woman. Who knew he was such a comedy genius?
‘I admit it is from the last century,’ she said with a smile. ‘Now fix it please, I have a plane to catch.’
‘I’ll need to turn it inside out first, so you’ll have to empty it.’
The woman looked at him as if he’d just asked her to strip. She took the bag from him and turned her back, emptying the contents onto her lap and covering them with one side of her coat. Charlie looked away politely and threaded the thickest needle in his kit. When she turned back, the bag was inside out. He held the ripped edges together and started to sew. She watched his hands, seemingly fascinated.
‘You really can sew. If my abuela could see this, she would propose marriage.’
‘Abuela?’
‘My gran. I have a gran and a granny, Abuela and Abuelita.’
‘Well, I’m open to offers,’ said Charlie with a grin. ‘You’re from Colombia?’
‘You don’t get any points for knowing that.’
‘Not everyone knows the Colombian flag.’
