Five-Thirty AM - XIII

Mitul stared at the rain pelting down the window pane. Who’d have guessed it could rain this hard in New Mexico? she thought, surprised by the ferocity of the storm.

They were in Arista, New Mexico, a small town in the middle of nowhere. They’d stopped for lunch and been caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing them to check into a hotel there.

Dev had called and Noel had retired to his room, evidently work had come up. So much for his promise of no Dev for these two days, she thought pouting.

Sighing, she spun the chair around to face the desk, turning on her laptop and plugging the camera in. She waited as the pictures downloaded. Flipping through them, she had to admit - Noel was instinctively a good photographer! Each of the shots he’d taken were crisp and clear, despite the fact that most were low light. She was pleased. The best part of sharing the camera with him was that she actually had some photos of herself, too. And some photos of him.

There was one picture that stood out. They’d asked someone else to take that picture and she laughed as she looked at it. They’d taken it outside in front of the reception at Carlsbad, the blue sky and the vast plains behind them, him sitting on the wall, her standing next to him. And he was still taller than her! She smiled as she remembered his hand sneakily coming up around her waist while they waited for the shot to be taken. They’d looked at each other, and that’s when the photo had been clicked.

A knock on the door disturbed her. ‘Coming,’ she yelled, walking to the door and opening it. Noel stood there.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said as he walked into her room. ‘But Dev keeps me busy.’

‘And you promised me no Dev,’ she whined.

He looked at the extremely cute picture she made as she stood there. Her eyes narrowed, hands on hips, lips pouting. ‘Do you want some cheese with that?’ he grinned.

She frowned. ‘With that Whine,’ he teased.

‘Ugh! Noel!’ she giggled. ‘That’s one of the worst jokes I’ve heard.’

‘Come on,’ he held out a hand. ‘Dinner?’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘But where, in this rain?’

‘We’ll eat at the restaurant here, I'm in no mood to go looking for food now,’ he said.

She picked up her bag and room key, and put her hand in his, feeling the heat from his palms on hers. She looked at him. He blinked once, slowly, at her, as if to say, I feel it too.

They’d finished dinner, when he excused himself, ‘be right back,’ and headed towards the restroom. He came back after a few minutes, and said, ‘let’s go up to one of our rooms, order a movie or something,’ he suggested.

‘Sure,’ she said, following his lead.

They were comfortably ensconced on his couch, flipping through the pay-per-view channels looking for a movie, when there was a knock on the door. She got up and opened it.

A waiter stood there with a tray on which were two cups, accompanied by a plate of churros. What looked like cinnamon sticks stuck out from the froth on top of the cups.

‘We didn’t order this,’ she said, looking at the waiter.

‘Si. Senor. He order it,’ the obviously Hispanic waiter replied, nodding his head towards Noel.

‘Ah! Dessert!’ Noel exclaimed, taking the tray and signing the receipt.

‘Dessert?’

‘Churros and Mexican hot chocolate,’ he explained, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them. They sat down and she stared at the plates.

He picked up a churro, holding out the cinnamon sugar coated crunchy goodness to her, she reached out a hand to take it. He pulled it back, and then held it close to her mouth, a dreamy look coming onto his face as her lips opened and she leaned forward to bite into it, her eyes holding his. A sprinkling of sugar coated her lips, and his parted, his gaze firmly fixed on her lips. She could feel the tingling start on her lips, almost as if his tongue had stroked along it.

She chewed the piece, running her tongue along her lips, picking up the sugar, startled to see the heat flame in his eyes at that. She dropped her eyes, and took the piece of churro from him, holding it out for him.

He bit into it, holding her hand as he did so. A small smirk played around his lips. ‘We’re supposed to drink the hot chocolate with that,’ his husky voice shimmied down her spine.

She nodded wordlessly, and picked up her cup, stirring the cinnamon stick, before taking a sip. The hot liquid was thick and chocolatey and cinnamon-y with just an underlying hint of chillies under it. Her eyes widened at the heat hit the back of her throat. ‘This is good!’ she said, smiling.

He sipped silently, a bubble of pleasure growing inside him as he watched her enjoy the dessert. He was glad he’d taken the time to find out what was special about the food here. They were stuck in a godforsaken town on a rainy evening, but dammed if he was going to let it go waste!

‘How did you know?’ she asked.

He looked sheepishly and said, ‘I asked. Thought you might enjoy it. After all, there’s not much else you can do on a day like this!’ he shrugged.

She looked at him and thought, strange man! Here I thought he was working with Dev, and he was going into the effort of finding out something that would make the evening ... better! She looked into her cup and smiled, before lifting her eyes to him and asking, ‘Did you find a movie you wanted to watch?’

He grinned at her, ‘Nightmare on Elm Street?’

‘Cheesy, Noel. That’s a date night movie,’ she narrowed her eyes.

‘Okay,’ he laughed and threw up his hands. ‘3:10 to Yuma. The Christian Bale, Russell Crowe one. You, my lady,’ he elaborated, ‘can get your eye-full of eye candy.’

‘Now that,’ she smiled, ‘is something I can live with.’

They settled down to watch the surprisingly intense and gripping Western, sipping their chocolates and munching churros. Noel explained some of the nuances, what he saw of film-making, the camera angles, lights, scripts, action, making it an even better experience for Mitul.

It was past ten when they finished, and Mitul got up and stretched.

Noel couldn’t believe his eyes! What did she think she was doing? Her cotton top stretched across her tight breasts, and as her arms lifted, it rose to reveal that silver navel ring. His eyes ran over her. Okay, he was ogling her, but heck, what was a man supposed to do?

She walked to the door, and turned around, ‘I had a really great time today, Noel,’ she said smiling up at him.

‘Me, too,’ he whispered, his arms going around her and holding her close. Her hands went up under his arms, to his strong shoulders, as she snuggled in. He bent his head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, before he lifted her chin to kiss her.

The kiss tasted of cinnamon and chocolate. It was a little bit of Noel and a little bit of Mitul. It was sweet and spicy. It was tender and hard. It was dizzying and steadying. It was like flying high and floating on an ocean. It was a little slice of heaven and a whole lot of hell.

For Noel. At that moment, he didn’t want to say good night. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to wake up at five-thirty am, just to see how she looked then. He wanted ... oh! so much more. And he definitely didn’t want to say good night.

He drew back, slowly drawing his lips from hers, eyes still closed. Her eyes fluttered open, only to see him lifting heavy eyelids, his pupils dilated and dark, burning with little green flames. She could feel his heart against her chest, racing along with hers, in synchrony. His hands slid down her back, resting on her hips, bringing her closer, as he kissed her on the forehead.

‘Good night, babe,’ he breathed. ‘Go!’ he turned her around, and gave her a tiny pat on her bottom.

She grinned over her shoulder at him, her cheeks darker with color, ‘Good night, Noel,’ she said. He raked a hand through his hair, and grinned back at her.

*****

Ruidoso is a small growing town in the Mescalero Apache Indian Reservation in New Mexico. Surrounded by mountains covered with green conifers and dotted with ranches, it is much cooler than El Paso, although it’s only a three-hour drive.

Noel drove along the winding two-lane street, cutting through high jagged mountains on either side. They had opened out the sunroof today, allowing the sunshine to beat down on them, the cool breeze from the mountains taking the edge off the hot rays. Both were dressed in jeans, shirts and sun glasses, melding with the other tourists dotting this town, that had slowly become a popular tourist destination.

Quaint shops stood on either side of the street, raised at an elevation or sunk into a few steps, towering pines shading the seating areas in little squares.

‘Do you want to take a look around first, and then go to the hotel, or what?’ he said.

‘Let’s check in first,’ she suggested, ‘and then we can spend the afternoon here.’

He nodded in agreement.

‘So why did you choose Ruidoso as a destination, Noel?’ she asked as he deftly made his way through traffic signals, heading out of town to hit the ridge road leading to the resort.

‘Cause this is the town of Billy the Kid,’ he smirked.

‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed, palms to both her cheeks in exaggerated astonishment, eyes wide open. ‘Why did I not think of it?’ She fanned herself with her hands, blinking her eyes rapidly. ‘Of course, it had to do with Wild west history!’ she laughed at the blush creeping up his throat.

‘Okay, I admit it, I’m a fan of the Wild west. So?’ he questioned petulantly and not a little defensively.

She was laughing holding on to her stomach at his expression, his lower lip out in an adorable pout.

‘Okay, baby, let’s go to the hotel,’ she said in her baby voice, putting her hand on his arm. His left hand came up and held it, and he switched hands so that he could kiss her knuckles, glancing at her as he did so.

She shut up.

He smirked. So. The only way to shut her up was to kiss her! This was really good to know, he thought, his mind walking down a path with different scenarios, each one ending with him shutting her up very effectively.

Mitul stared out of the window, a small smile on her lips. This trip was turning out to be much more fun than she had anticipated. Although he’d opened up about the tough days in the army, he’d also been a great companion. He’d been considerate, fun and sweet and ... overall made her totally comfortable with him. Yes, he’d kissed her last night. But he never crowded her, letting her have her space, yet making sure she never forgot he was with her because he wanted to be with her.

She could easily see herself being friends with him all her life. Well, that is, if friendship is all she wanted. But right now, sitting beside him, she wasn’t going to analyze all that. Time enough later. Carpe Diem was her motto for today.

The approach road to the resort that Dev had booked them into was on a ridge, though the resort lay spread out in the valley below, golf carts visible on the golf course with a jewel-like lake gleaming next to it, surrounded by mountains covered in conifers. It was gorgeous.

‘How did you find this place?’ she asked as they walked in.

‘I had Dev book us,’ he said. ‘When we talked yesterday. There’s a casino attached to the resort. We could do some Casino Royale tonight if you like,’ he suggested, taking in the Native American influence on the decor of the lobby. A sunken hall led out to the golf course they had glimpsed. An enormous beaded fountain tinkling as it flowed out of the hall to the lower lobby to the lake outside. They headed to the reception to check in.

Dev had left out a very important fact.

A convention was taking place at the resort and the place was full. The only thing they could offer was a double queen room.

Noel looked her questioningly. ‘Are you okay with that?’ he asked Mitul, who seemed to be worrying her lower lip nervously, her eyes on the receptionist.

She looked at him, swallowed and said, ‘Yes.’ There was no option, anyway. They checked in and went to find their room.

It was large. Large enough that they wouldn’t be stumbling over each other, thankfully. Mitul chose the bed near the balcony, so he took one on the inside of the room. Elegant Native American furniture carried the theme of the resort into the room, a separate screened off seating area leading to the balcony. The bathroom boasted a large Jacuzzi and separate shower stall. On the counter top was a transparent floating sink with pewter fittings adding a understated touch of elegance.

*****

They found a beautiful place with a garden patio to have their lunch at. Once again, Noel had found out what was specific to the area they were in, and ordered Apache Fried bread. It came with something called chile and also a small bowl of honey.

Mitul tore off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the chile - which seemed to contain garbanzo beans. She put it into her mouth, chewed and looked at him in astonishment. ‘Oh my God, Noel. How do you do it? Do you know this is exactly like chana-bhatura?’

He took a bite and laughed. ‘You are so right! This is so good!’ They both fell silent as they chowed down, enjoying the familiar taste of home on their taste buds.

They spent the afternoon walking around the town, browsing through shops, amazed at the hand-crafted silver and turquoise and beaded jewelry on display. They took pictures. She bought a floppy hat that he complained about because he couldn’t see her face, although he did admit that it made her look cute.

They took a breather, sitting at one of the white wrought-iron tables in one of the squares, drinking lemonade out of tall cold glasses.

‘Mitul?’ he said thoughtfully, while they watched the traffic on the street below.

‘Hmmm?’ the low hum set a spark aflame in his gut.

‘How is it that you know so much about me, and I know barely anything about you?’ he asked, reaching out and removing her sunglasses, so he could see her eyes.

She looked over at him, seeing the seriousness in his eyes, and her heart jumped a little, before hopping along like a frightened bunny.

‘What do you want to know?’ she asked.

‘Everything,’ his voice was husky again, brushing across her skin just as his thumb was doing on her palm.

She smiled at him through her nervousness. ‘There’s really nothing much to know. My life is unlike my books. Uncomplicated. Parents. Only child. Studied in India, first and then at UofT with a major in Media and Communications. I am a Canadian by choice.’

He was still gazing intently at her. She gave a short nervous laugh. ‘Nothing to it, not as exciting as yours,’ she clutched at his hand.

He looked down at her white knuckles and said. ‘It not necessarily a good thing to have an exciting life, you know.’ He looked up, into her eyes. ‘Why journalism? and now this book?’ 

She smiled comfortable again in her safe zone. ‘I loved to write, always. I wrote poetry, short stories I think since I was in middle school. My grandmother, she loved reading, literature, and I grew up listening to stories on her lap. She was a great storyteller.’ Her voice had turned wistful without her knowing and he squeezed her hand. ‘I guess that’s where I got my love of stories from. I was in university when I realized that I could earn a living writing stories. I submitted a book to Velvet Rose publications.’ He raised his brows. ‘They publish romances.’ She ducked her head, embarrassed.

He laughed incredulously. ‘You write romances?!’

She glared at him, ‘I knew you would laugh!’

He sputtered and said, ‘so the hard-headed journalist writes romances on the side?’ His lips twitched as he tried to contain his laugh.

‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you,’ she mumbled, pouted and folded her hands, turning her face away.

‘I’m sorry. Go on.’ He held out his hand, palm up, asking for her forgiveness.

She sighed and put her hand in his. ‘That’s pretty much it. My salary from the magazine is my bread and butter. The money I get from writing the books is the icing on the cake.’

‘What name do you use?’ he knew that she would never use her own name to write.

‘Ally. Ally Faith,’ she mumbled.

He looked puzzled, drew back a little.

She sighed. ‘Mitul means Friend or Ally. Imani means Faith. Ally Faith. Except A-L-L-Y is pronounced as al-ee not al-ai.’ She shrugged. ‘Just a pun, really.’

He looked admiringly at her. ‘I’m glad you are writing my biography,’ he said quietly. ‘You‘re really good with words.’ He settled himself more comfortably and leaned forward. ‘So. I want to know something.’

‘What?’ she was feeling glad that he wasn’t dwelling on this whole romance writing thing.

‘You write romances. So, ... er .., you must write some really ... ah.. intimate scenes. What’s your inspiration, Ms. Imani?’

He burst out laughing. She looked outraged for all of a second, before she swatted him with her bag.

*****