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and do videophone chats with me?”  As he waited for her answer, Patrick realized he was holding his breath.

The thought of his leaving hurt her heart, anything could happen in a war-zone.  And now that they had met – and kissed - she couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him.  “Yea, we can be computer friendly,” she smiled weakly.

Not exactly what he had in mind.  But for now, he’d take what he could get.  “I am definitely feeling friendly with you,” he cupped the back of her neck and gave it a little squeeze.  To his great satisfaction, she leaned back in his hand as if his touch was more than welcome.  “What was your childhood like, Baby?”

Starting slowly, she told him what she thought she could.  “I never knew my real parents, so I grew up in foster care.  In school, I was small and they called me Swamp Rat.”  She smiled when he frowned.  That was one of the nicer things they called her, but she didn’t go into that.  “It’s okay, things got better.  I won a scholarship in high school and now I’ve got a pretty good job.”

It always amazed Patrick how cruel people could be.  Taking in her delicate body and perfect features, he couldn’t help but contradict the fools who had hurt her.  “If I would have been there, I would have called you my Bayou Baby and beat the shit out of anybody who said different.”

What he said and how he said it made her feel all warm inside.  Patrick O’Rourke was a hero.  In her heart, Savann had been holding out for a hero.  Honestly, she had never expected to find one.  And now that he was here and seemed to think he wanted her, quite frankly, she didn’t know what to do with him.  “Where were you when I was hung on the clothesline by my sundress straps?” The memory of that prank always made her laugh.  The older boys hadn’t hurt her, but she had dangled there till her foster mom had finally heard her squealing.  “Park over close to the picnic tables,” she pointed to the left.  “We don’t need to buy tickets just to picnic.  The Maison Olivier Plantation house is interesting, if you’d like to take a tour after we eat.”

“No, I don’t want to take a tour.”  He got out of the car before she did this time, so he could help her with the food, the blanket and that monster size book she kept wanting to wag around.  “We’re going to eat our fish and get to know one another.  I’m also hoping that you’ll let me kiss you again.”

“Patrick,” she murmured in exasperation.  Savannah would have given everything she owned to kiss him one more time, but it wasn’t right.  Later, if she confided in him, he would remember that she had taken advantage of him and the situation.  “I am a little hungry, though.”  Patrick didn’t answer, but she could almost swear she heard him make a low growling noise.  “Was that your stomach?”

Patrick chuckled.  “No, it wasn’t my stomach.  That was my sexy growl.  Couldn’t you tell?”  When he noticed her amazed, amused expression – he laughed and tugged her close.  “Being with you is a delight.  It’s like seeing the world with a whole new pair of eyes.” He went on to explain.  “When you said you were hungry, I was hoping you were starving for me – that’s why I growled.”

“Oh,” his explanation made her quiver.  “I’m not too experienced,” she felt like she stated the obvious.  She loved the way he walked close to her.  Patrick made her feel so feminine and protected.  His forest green t-shirt was stretched so tight over his ripped body that she could see his abs, and she didn’t pretend she wasn’t looking either.  “You are in really good shape.”

“Thank you, so are you.”  Patrick had been watching the way her tits moved when she walked.  Damn, they were real.  He loved real tits.  “So, why are we toting around this encyclopedia size book?  Research is not good for our digestion.”

“Well, we don’t have to talk about that, if you don’t want to.  I just didn’t want to assume anything.  After all, this is sort of a business luncheon.”  Patrick kissed the top of her head and her heart skipped a beat.

“No, this isn’t a business luncheon.  And I don’t really want to do anymore research.”  He let his hand skate down her side and playfully goosed her, “I was hoping you were planning on standing on this thick book to kiss me.  I haven’t got to smooch on you nearly enough to do me till I get back from Afghanistan.”

“You are as stubborn as Tammany, aren’t you?”  What was she going to do with him?  Savannah hadn’t got to do near enough kissing either.  Practicing on a pillow hadn’t prepared her for the ecstasy of being kissed back. But - - - the notion that most people in her past had considered her to be somehow unclean and dirty was so deeply ingrained that she felt guilty for letting Patrick kiss her.  “I don’t think that’s a really good idea, but thank you.”

“Here give me that stuff,” he took everything from her and set it on a picnic table.  Spreading out the blanket, he drew her down to the ground.  “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, you know.”  Patrick searched her face for clues.

Hanging her head, she avoided making eye contact.  “Please don’t ask me for an explanation.  But I shouldn’t kiss you anymore, it just wouldn’t be right.”

Damn, what if there was someone else?  He hadn’t thought of that till just now.   Had he misread everything so completely?  “Should we go back, Savannah?” He picked up the food.  “I don’t encroach onto another man’s territory.  You should have said something sooner.”  Just what the fuck would he do now?  She was supposed to be his Destiny.

“Wait!” She

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