Foreman couldn't help a quick laugh at Amber's assumption that he was helping her with her coat in order to get her into bed. That would be not only pointless, but counterproductive. It was more a way of saying thank you, or of sharing how she'd made him feel, without getting caught up in the stupid sentiment of words. "Maybe I'm showing off," he said, to put it in terms she'd accept. Despite what he'd been telling himself, the whole restaurant had to know what they'd done, it had been so blatant. With the danger of being caught past, Foreman was indulging himself in feeling smug, and proud, that he'd had a better evening than any of them. That he was the one who was allowed to draw Amber close and take her home.
With her heels, Amber was an inch or two taller than he was. Most of the women he'd dated were smaller, short enough that they could lean their heads against his shoulder when he wrapped an arm around them. The protective urge that came over him so easily then was missing, but Foreman knew Amber wouldn't miss it--would resent it, if he showed it. He found that he didn't have to shorten his stride to match hers, either. Amber's walk was as determined as she was. When they got to the doors, Foreman didn't try to open it for her.
Outside, the air was colder than when they'd arrived, making the idea of getting to his apartment and curling up in bed together all the more attractive. Foreman didn't want to let Amber go for long enough to walk around the car and get in. He gave her a squeeze and then let go, unlocking the doors with his key, and starting the engine and the seat warmers as soon as he got in. He frowned, though, as he realized it wasn't simply a matter of driving home. Both of them had to be at work tomorrow, bright and early, and Foreman didn't want to wake up early. Better to get the logistics figured out tonight. "Did you need to get anything for tomorrow?" he asked. He had extra toothbrushes and other toiletries, and several bottles of shampoo, hair conditioner, even a blowdryer that Wendy had left behind at his place and never shown up to collect. But Amber would need clothes, and anything else personal. Unfortunately it worked both ways: if they stayed at her place, Foreman would still have to go home to get a clean suit and his shaving gear.
no subject
With her heels, Amber was an inch or two taller than he was. Most of the women he'd dated were smaller, short enough that they could lean their heads against his shoulder when he wrapped an arm around them. The protective urge that came over him so easily then was missing, but Foreman knew Amber wouldn't miss it--would resent it, if he showed it. He found that he didn't have to shorten his stride to match hers, either. Amber's walk was as determined as she was. When they got to the doors, Foreman didn't try to open it for her.
Outside, the air was colder than when they'd arrived, making the idea of getting to his apartment and curling up in bed together all the more attractive. Foreman didn't want to let Amber go for long enough to walk around the car and get in. He gave her a squeeze and then let go, unlocking the doors with his key, and starting the engine and the seat warmers as soon as he got in. He frowned, though, as he realized it wasn't simply a matter of driving home. Both of them had to be at work tomorrow, bright and early, and Foreman didn't want to wake up early. Better to get the logistics figured out tonight. "Did you need to get anything for tomorrow?" he asked. He had extra toothbrushes and other toiletries, and several bottles of shampoo, hair conditioner, even a blowdryer that Wendy had left behind at his place and never shown up to collect. But Amber would need clothes, and anything else personal. Unfortunately it worked both ways: if they stayed at her place, Foreman would still have to go home to get a clean suit and his shaving gear.