by Glory Lennon

Created on: August 14, 2007   Last Updated: May 16, 2011

She smiled and he smiled.

"So...whaddaya think?" he said as he played with the back of her hand making swirls on it with his fingertips.

Was this boy kidding? How old was he? Twenty-five was her guess, at most. She supposed that would be all right. She was thirty two. Actually thirty-three come next month. Men wouldn't blink at the difference the other way so why should she?

She leaned forward and said, "What do I think about what, exactly?"

He grinned showing off his dimple. Gosh, he was cute. He shrugged casually. "We can get outta here...you know...whatever."

"Perhaps we should dance," she suggested.

He got up and grabbed her hand already tugging her to the dance floor before saying anything. His hands went to her hips and pulled her close. She got the sudden image of Bogart and Becall.

"Is that a gun you're packing or are you just happy to see me?" This guy carried a 38-special.

He was tall. She just reached his chin and she had heels on. She looked up at him and he promptly kissed her. No mincing words with this guy.

"Aren't we going a bit fast?" she asked slightly amused. "I don't even know your name."

"Andy. What's yours?" he replied.

"Millie."

"Is that short for Mildred or Millicent?" he asked.

"Miligros. It's Spanish for..."

"Miracles, I know. So, you're a miracle. I thought so," he said grinning broadly.

He kissed her again, lingering. "I like miracles," he whispered against her lips.

Oh, boy, was he a smooth-talker. He forcefully reminded her of Derrick. Don't think about him, she told herself. That's in the past. But the past always comes back to haunt unfortunately.

"How old are you?" she asked breathlessly.

"Does it matter? I like older chicks," he said.

"How old do you think I am?" she asked tentatively.

He cocked his head to the side and smirking replied, "Twenty-six?"

"Oh, Lordy," she mumbled. "A wee bit more than that, I'm afraid."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I don't care. You look hot. That's what counts." He leaned forward touching her nose with his and added conspiratorially, "Maybe you can teach me something. Be my Mrs. Robinson."

She didn't like the sound of that. "So, how old are you?" she asked apprehensively.

He laughed. "Come outside if you want to talk. It's too loud in here," he said pulling her out with him. He led the way to a bright blue, shiny pick-up truck, opened up the tailgate and hoisted her up onto it before she knew what he was doing. Then he climbed up beside her and smiled.

They stared at each other for a minute. "You're

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