The Penalty Box by Deirdre Martin Page A

some red peppers and mozzarella to her. “C’mon, I want you to eat a little more.”
    Katie waved it away, the smell seeping into her nostrils, making her stomach tumble against her will. “I’m fine, Paul, really.”
    â€œI bet you know the calorie count of everything.”
    â€œPretty much.”
    â€œHow many calories is this?” Taking her right hand, he delicately kissed each of her fingertips.
    â€œZero.” Katie breathed, beginning to feel light-headed.
    â€œAnd this?” Gently cradling her forearm, he placed his lips to the soft underside of her wrist.
    â€œZero again,” Katie answered as mellow heat began whispering its way through her system. She closed her eyes, pummeled by dizziness. Was it him or the wine that made her head swim so? Did it matter?
    â€œHow ’bout this?”
    Eyes still closed, Katie felt Paul’s hand slide around to cup the back of her neck. Then it happened just the way she’d always dreamed it: his mouth on hers, soft, sweet, beguiling. The mellowness in her body seemed to burn off in a rose haze, making way for giddiness as his mouth pressed on, expertly parting her lips. Katie allowed herself to be steered into his embrace. How safe it felt here, sheltered in his warm, strong arms beneath the canopy of the willow tree. How right.
    Mouths still enjoined, Paul gently lowered her to the ground, stretching out beside her. Katie felt the world tilt, and tilt again, as nausea shot up the back of her throat. She abruptly opened her eyes.
    â€œYou okay?” Paul whispered. The way he was smiling at her, so sweetly and full of concern, sent another volley of desire somersaulting through her.
    Katie nodded weakly. She didn’t want this to end. She wanted to be taken up in his arms again, where she felt cherished and protected. Perhaps the wooziness would pass if she simply ignored it and focused on him instead. Returning his smile, Katie let her fingers feather down his right cheek, delighted when he snatched her hand from his face and pressed his lips, hard, to her open palm.
    â€œYou are so, so lovely,” he declared.
    I am so, so nauseous. Katie’s heart held still as he leaned in to kiss her again, his eyes wickedly blue. She closed her eyes, trying to feel it all at once—the desire, the heat, the longing—but couldn’t get past the galloping dizziness that seemed to intensify with each passing second. Snuggling closer to her, Paul wrapped her in his arms. His mouth was making demands now that she struggled to meet. There was danger here, darkness. She knew it. She felt it. She wanted it.
    And she would have succumbed to it, were it not for the mad tumbling of her stomach.
    â€œOh, God.” Tearing her mouth from his, Katie rolled away from him and proceeded to throw up on the grass as quietly and daintily as she could. Her head was roaring now, voices of humiliation and shame drowning out the angelic chorus that had heralded desire just moments before. When she was done, she rolled onto her back, covering her face with her hands. “Please take me home.”
    â€œKatie, are you all right?” Paul asked anxiously.
    â€œNo, I’m not all right!” She peered at him through the screen of her hands. “I just threw up on a first date. Pass me a piece of apple, please. I’m sure my breath is disgusting.”
    â€œOnly if you take your hands away from your face.”
    â€œFine.” She tore her hands from her face but turned her head away, the mere motion sending another round of queasiness juddering through her. If I throw up again, she vowed, I’m going to pull a Virginia Woolf right here in the creek.
    â€œHere.” Paul had come around to where she was facing, putting the apple slice in her hand. Katie’s fingers closed around it and she popped it into her mouth. “Better?”
    Katie nodded.
    â€œIt would be nice if you’d open your eyes,” Paul