Love At First Laugh
Met grimaced as Matt sidled next to the creature at the bar. "Excuse me miss,” he crooned, and Met felt his breath escape; the life in her eyes caught him unawares as she snapped her head up. “You wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink, would you, because you. Look. Hot.”
Met groaned. He hated that Matt’s corniness, that Matt was good-looking enough to get away with it most of the time, and that Matt had gotten to the redheaded vision with her nose in the book first.
Fortunately, it seemed that ‘most of the time’ did not apply here.
“Aw, come on,” her amused voice teased, beaming as she raised an eyebrow. Met got the distinct impression that she was rolling her eyes at Matt, even though she hadn’t. “You can do better than that.”
“Alright, alright,” Matt laughed, undaunted. “Hold on, let me try again.”
God, where did she get that marvelous mouth that grinned like the devil’s eye? “Think hard. Give me the best line you can think of,” she joshed, crossing her never-ending legs and folding her arms in a mock serious motion.
Matt pretended to think, but Met knew he was just taking time to mentally undress and fondle her; he could see the lecherous glint in his greedy eyes. “Ok, I got one. You must be a thief … because you steal my breath away.”
Is there any gift better than laughter? Met couldn’t think of any as the mirthful gut laugh of the belle shone around the room like so many spotlights. “Oh, god,” she gasped, clearly enjoying herself. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages. Thank you for that.”
“No problem,” the clueless Matt replied, leaning in more. “So what do you say you and - ”
“Oh, wait, it’s my turn now!” She pleaded, sitting up a little straighter.
“Oh … ok,” Matt said, frowning a little, smiling unsurely.
“You must be so exhausted, because that line was so tired.” And again she chortled in that hearty yet derisive way of hers that was so becoming. Those starsong eyes flicked over for a second at Met, and he realized with a start that he had been chuckling too. He hid his embarrassment in a large gulp of his beer as he looked away, but still she laughed. She laughed and laughed so wholly that Matt saw no other option but to walk away, his face contorted into a confused, frustrated glower.
“Bitch,” Matt muttered as he slumped down in the chair beside Met, who was preoccupied with trying to make out what was that book she had again buried her face into. He made out a number, and suddenly gleaned that it was Catch-22. He smiled.
“I think … she wants someone who’ll make her laugh.”
“Someone who’ll make her laugh? Didn’t you just - ”
“I mean on purpose,” Met teased laughingly, and with a last swig of his beer, he got up. Maybe he’d have a shot.
Her cherry pie eyes subtly followed him as he approached her, and again all the air suddenly left him as she tore them out of her book when he got close. Cheesy as it was, Matt’s line was apt. “Hi.”
“So … it’s your turn now?” she jeered, as amused and playfully as ever. Again Met got the impression that she was looking for fun, someone to make her smile. He would be happy to oblige, so long as he got to see that smile, to hear that laugh.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Ok then, lay it on me.”
Met pretended to have something to say, and let his mouth hang open for quite some time before closing it again. “I’m sorry; I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“For some reason, I can only think of one line, and it has the word ‘Nantucket’ in it.”
They drew stares as their laugher shook the room with its sheer volume.
“Met,” he introduced, holding out a hand. She took a good, long, appraising look at him before taking it, a mile-wide smile on her face.
“Carmen.”
;D