“Well . . . .?”
“It’s a great day not to be blind! You look great! Better than great!”
“So, I guess you like the dress?”
“What do you think!?” Quint exclaimed.
Quint was wearing a grad student’s Sunday best — khaki pants, a blue button-down shirt, and even had on socks.
The ride to the restaurant was a bit uncomfortable. The sexual energy was overwhelming. Jen’s long dormant sex drive was finally revving up.
“How about some Prince?” Quint asked, trying to keep his eyes on the road while fumbling for a CD.
“Mmmm…how about not? How about something a bit more dinnerish — like Frank Sinatra, or somebody?”
“I don’t have him, but I think there’s a Barry White CD somewhere in here. This is my sister’s old car,” Quint said as he scrounged around the back seat searching for the CD while he drove. Even though Barry White was the master of love music, he had become overused by men who still believed that upon hearing him, women would automatically be unable to resist the urge to have sex. It was a male urban legend, probably started by a guy who once got lucky at the same time Barry White was being played.
Barry was starting to work on Jen, although she didn’t need his help. She was already attracted to Quint. It was flattering to feel desired. He wasn’t her typical type of guy, which was a big part of the attraction. The old Reed Thorson types would not be winning Jen over any time soon. Cooper helped her realize she really did have the ability to get the type of man she wanted. Jen wasn’t quite sure what or who she wanted, but right now she was feeling good about what was ahead with Quint. She knew it might not turn into a long-term relationship, but that, too, made her more carefree and willing to explore her many sides.
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