Re: *Winter's Present* - serialized

On 2/17/2026 5:15 PM, Bryan Simmons wrote:
> 
> 
>              Winter’s Present
>                     .
>                Bryan Simmons
> 
>      Table of Contents
> 
> Silver    9
> Winter    23
> Fast    29
> Wearing White    49
> Sex Kitten    59
> The Party    73
> Turkey Claus    101
> Boy Talk    121
> Scorpions    131
> Ann    147
> Lady Bear    173
> Cinnamon Buns    189
> Sandy Beach    205
> Our Tricycle    235
> Queen of Love    249
> Art    279
> Pillow Talk    291
> A Pink Line to Burritos    297
> Making Love    309
> Solomon    317
> Wearing White Again    323
> Change is Hard    333
> The Letter    337
> The Vapors    365
> Performance Issues    373
> Somebody Else's Daughter    391
> Love Kiss    399
> Bigamy    411
> Equality    425
> Anniversary    439
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Copyright 2014, 2025 by Bryan Simmons
> 
> 
> This book is dedicated to my wife, Betsy, and to my muse, who shall 
> remain nameless.
>
Fast

"Now that you're going to be my new sister, I want to get to know you," 
said Winter, as they sat on the bed in her room that was going to be 
Chloe and Eric's bed until they left on their honeymoon.  Winter had 
insisted that they take her room because it had the queen bed, and 
Eric's had only a double.  Eric had left them alone together to get to 
know one another.

Chloe made a point of surveying the bed, "Obviously Eric does trust you."

Winter gave her a big smile, "I've never tried to steal from him before. 
  We were just *on* yesterday.  I get giddy when I'm happy, and seeing 
Eric so obviously in love made me happy.   Besides there's another girl 
I'm pretty taken with.  I asked about you though.  Where are you from?"

"California, just north of San Francisco, a small town called Mill 
Valley.  After high school I went to Stanford, then grad school at UCLA, 
where I met Eric."

I know, but what about *you*?"

"You want my background?  I was a tomboy, and I was all about math and 
camping, and going to the beach.  It's not a beach like people think 
about beaches.  The water's too cold to play in, but I liked to watch 
the ocean waves, and there were seals. I never dated anyone in high 
school.  I saw too many guys treat their girlfriends like crap."

On cue, Winter piped in, "There's girls."

"An option for you, but not for me.  I know you'll think, 'my loss,' but 
I can't imagine wanting to kiss another girl.  We're not all as 
omni-sexual as you apparently are."

"That's OK," said Winter, "even I'm not as <making air quotes> 
omni-sexual as I'm reputed to be."  Winter thought about what she'd just 
said.  "That's actually not true at all.  There aren't that many people 
who know I'm not lesbian."  She saw curiosity well up in her future 
sister.  "It kept the wolves from circling, and since I'd figured out 
that I liked female bodies too, it made it easy to be casually friendly 
with other kids.  The guys who were nice to me never thought they had a 
chance of getting any."

"You're funny."

"Especially to myself.  I think I'm the funniest person I've ever met, 
and what's also funny is that some people have actually had the nerve to 
suggest that I might be compensating for some trauma or another, and I 
thought, 'Yeah, the trauma of having to suffer fools like you with your 
trite ideas about shit.'  Chloe, I've never had any trauma more than not 
being able to go to a classmate's birthday party because my mom couldn't 
afford a gift.  Then we moved in with Dad and Eric, and I felt rich.   I 
was enough of a loner that I didn't mind switching to a new school. 
The other kids thought I was crazy, but they never picked on me, partly 
because I always made them laugh, but I think they also knew that I'd 
rip their faces off if they fucked with me.  In high school I hung with 
one girl.  We were kissing friends, and there were these two lipstick 
lezzies who were more casual friends.  I never let any of the guys at 
school suspect I was bi.  My friends were all bi too, but unlike me, 
they were scared of boys.  I was queen bee because I was the only one 
who'd dared to do it with a guy, so I had the arcane knowledge to get 
them hot, and I could be both girl and boy."

Chloe had only one word, "Amazing."

"Like I said, it kept me from getting hit on."

"You're so exactly the way that Eric described you," said Chloe.  "It 
made me love him even more when he told me that his sister was his best 
friend."

"We were best friends.  He was my only close male friend.  Like I said, 
I had one really dear female friend too, and that was enough," said 
Winter, "but I'm happy that he has a new best friend."  Winter beamed at 
her.  "He's drop dead crazy about you.  We both knew he'd end up falling 
hopelessly in love."

"I'm not too pretty for him, and I do have flaws, but I gather that 
you're giving me your blessing."

"Hopelessly wasn't the right word.  I should have said intensely, but 
that was his dream, and Chloe, you've made his dreams come true.  Now 
you have two responsibilities, two lives, Eric, and you two's baby. 
Three really.  Don't ever give up on yourself."

Just then, they heard Eric's footsteps coming up the stairs, and when he 
entered the room he said, "So, I hope you two had a nice talk."

Winter noticed the mugs of beer in his hand, "Give!"  Eric handed her 
the beer, and she said, excitedly, "Dad bought a keg."

Eric turned to Chloe, "Sorry, sweetie."  Chloe said, "Not at all," 
looking down and patting herself, there are more important concerns than 
beer right now."

Winter chirped, "Not for me."

It was a dry hopped American pale.  Winter drank half the glass, then 
buried her nose in the mug.  When she emerged, she gasped, "God I love 
hops."

Eric turned to Chloe, "She *really* likes beer."

"Loves beer," said Winter.  "Daddy bought a keg."  She drained the glass 
and announced, "I'll be back."

When Winter returned, she had a mug and a large pitcher, both quite 
full.  She sat the pitcher on the desk, "So you're going to take me?"

"Yeah," said Eric, "but only because I know you'll go anyway."

Winter said, "Hey, the guy checks out.  He really did win the lottery, 
and he's who he says he is.  His bank cashed the check.   It took me 
less than an hour to learn a lot about him.  I drove by there too, and 
that little blue car was there.  You know what I always say, 'Live life 
with gusto!'"

"You do say that from time to time."

"I live it, Eric.  And new sister, welcome.  Now, I'll take my leave, 
and leave you two lovebirds to your pleasures, and me to mine."  Winter 
picked up the pitcher, held it aloft, and asked Eric if he'd like a top 
off, which he did, then she left the room."

Chloe said, "It was sweet of Winter to let us have her bedroom.  We've 
never had a bed this big before."

Eric walked over and locked the door, and said, "We only have two more 
days to be naughty, and then we'll be married."

"Well," said Chloe, "we'll just have to come up with some new ways to be 
naughty."

"That's up to you, baby, I've told you that I'd do pretty much anything 
that didn't involve animals or other guys."

Chloe tried to say it with a serious face, "Or dead people," and she 
cracked up.

"That's a Winterism.  You've only been around my sister for half a day, 
and she's infected you."

"She's into dead people?"

"OK, I'll cut it out.  Let's enjoy this big bed."
........... 
  
  

Winter slept until almost noon.  She was a little dehydrated, and had to 
pee so bad it hurt, but otherwise felt well rested.  Once she dealt with 
those two issues, she thought, "Good morning, world," then when she saw 
the time, she added, "what's left of you."  The beer had been good to 
her, distracting her from thinking about what she knew was going on next 
door.  She wasn't jealous, because she loved Eric deeply, and was well 
on her way to loving Chloe.  Sweet Chloe.   No, Winter was just horny, 
and nothing took the edge off better than beer.

When she went downstairs, the house was empty, and no one had left her a 
note.  That was OK, because last night she had resolved to go by 
herself.  She reasoned, "What's the guy going to do, rape me?  Kind of 
hard when I'm going over there with every intention of fucking him silly 
anyway."  Besides, she had no right to ask Eric to sit in a car for what 
could be hours, waiting for her.  She reached into the cabinet and took 
out a large tumbler, and filled it up with ice.  She thought, "How nice 
that the fridge makes ice.  Those kids, the ones in the dorms, most of 
them were so happy to be out of their parents' houses."  She opened the 
door and poured about two inches of half&half, then grabbed a blackberry 
yogurt.  She slowly added coffee to the glass.  It wasn't hot, just 
still warmish, so it didn't melt too much of the ice. "The fridge gives 
ice, and cold water.  Mom's a good cook and Dad's even better, and Dad 
buys beer."

She knew that her classmates probably drank a lot more than she did, but 
they drank bad beer, and sugary crap, and they ate bad food too.  They 
went to bad parties with bad music, and they'd fuck people they'd never 
fuck if they weren't drunk.  Alcohol worked well--at least better than 
anything else--as a substitute, but never an adjunct.  She'd learned not 
to even try to get herself off after more than one or two.  She thought, 
"I'll move out when I get married, but I love my home."

She considered what she was going to wear.  "Hmmm?  Simple, classic, and 
not much."  The guy had revealed a lot about his tastes, and she wanted 
to play to them, so it ended up being white cotton panties and white 
shorts, white ankle socks and brand new white aerobics shoes, no bra, 
and to top it off, a public radio pledge drive t-shirt.  She took a 
hotter shower than usual, and didn't use any shampoo on her hair, and 
soap only on her underarms and feet.  She used the electric on her legs. 
  It was cool that they made them so they worked in the shower.  Combing 
her hair out was a little harder without the conditioner.  She wanted to 
arrive with her hair still a bit damp because that might make him think 
of her in the shower.  Winter studied her own face in the mirror. 
Except for that night at the club, makeup had hardly touched that face. 
She spoke to the mirror out loud, "Every little detail, impeccable."

*Lalalalala, faux love*.

When she got to the house, the little blue car was there.  She walked 
directly to the front door and rang.   Her legs were cold, *shorts in 
December*.

Ian answered in less than a minute, "Come in."

Winter said, matter-of-factly, "You've been expecting me."

"Not expecting, but hoping.  Come in and sit down.  Would you like a 
drink?"

"No thank you," she said.

"Then I'll just get us some water for later."   Ian left the room.

The living room was large, and there was a wood fire in the fireplace. 
The chairs, loveseat and couch looked new, and expensive, but everything 
else looked old.  Maybe or maybe not antique old, but old, and not in 
the greatest of shape.  Nothing was broken, but there were scratches and 
nicks.  It was very pretty furniture, and must have been pricey when 
new.  Nothing about the room said playboy.

Ian returned with a tray with a pitcher of water, two large glasses full 
of ice, and a plate with a few halved lemons and limes.  He didn't pour 
either of them a glass, but just set it on the coffee table, and guided 
her to the loveseat.

"My real name is Winter, Winter Williamson."

"And mine, as you no doubt know from the check, is Ian, Ian Meadows, and 
let me tell you, you are so much more beautiful without that stuff on 
your face."

"There you go with the beautiful face thing again."

"Fine, then every single inch of you, from the top of your head, to the 
tips of your toes is beautiful."

"You haven't seen every inch, but I bet you'd like to."

Ian answered, "Of course."  Winter stood up and appeared to be starting 
to remove her shorts when Ian said, "Sit down, silly.  Do you have to be 
somewhere this afternoon or something?"

"No.  My brother is getting married tomorrow, but it's a courthouse 
wedding, so I've got about twenty-four hours.   I came over here because 
I know you want to fuck me, and do Lord knows what else, and that I'll 
leave both laid, and with a wad of large bills, but you want to make 
nice first and that's fine."

"I do want to make small talk, and everything else, but I want to 
explain my proposition first.  Yes, I'd like you to stay for the next 
day, and yes, I will send you on your way with a large amount of money, 
but then I'd like you to come back, and sleep with me, make love with 
me, talk to me, and let me explore every part of your body for the next 
few years, the rest of the time you're in college.  I want to care for 
you, and cook for you, make homemade chicken soup for you when you're 
not feeling well, and pamper you in every possible way."

Winter wasn't going to let that one go by, "I don't think they make 
Pampers in my size."

Ian laughed, "And I want you to make me laugh.  I want every flaw you 
have that I have no way of knowing at this point.  I want to love you, 
then let you go a very rich woman."

Winter looked down pensively, then looked at him bright eyed, "So you 
want a little sister with benefits."

Ian laughed so hard that Winter was actually worried he was going to 
have a heart attack, which led to her recalling the comedy expression, 
"killed," which started her laughing too.  Eric had told her a few years 
before, "You know, Winter, the pun is the lowest form of humor."

Twice, Ian began to compose himself, then looked back at her and busted 
up again.  "You may be the most delightful woman on Earth."  And Ian 
started laughing again as he repeated, "Little sister with benefits."

When Ian finally settled down, Winter asked, "So, you said you'd leave 
me a very rich woman, how rich?"

Ian answered, "A million dollars."

Winter shot back with, "You're low balling me.  Three million, and I 
don't have to sleep here more than three days a week.  I won't date any 
other guys, *but* I *do* get to have a girlfriend."

"Will you share?"

"Sure, but only if she wants to.  I'm not going to whore out my 
girlfriend to you."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Not right now, but I hope to, and I want the money in increments in 
case we decide to become exclusive.  I'd rather have her than any amount 
of money,"

Ian was intrigued, "So there is a particular girl?"

"Uhuh.  I think I might be in love."

"Well," Ian said, "far be it from me to get in the way of true love.  I 
accept your terms."

"Good," said Winter, "because I'm sitting in a puddle right now, and I'm 
shaking horny.  Can I take off my clothes, or do you want to talk some 
more?"

Ian slid his right arm under her legs, and put his left around her back, 
then lifted her off the loveseat and carried her to his bed.  He pulled 
down her shorts and panties to just above her knees, and pushed her legs 
almost to her chest.  He was kissing her gently, but she knew that what 
he was mostly doing was smelling her.  His tongue kept teasing, but 
never landing on the place she needed it.

She gasped, "Get these things off," and he pulled off her shorts and 
buried his face in her, but he was still teasing.  She arched her hips 
and pulled his head hard into her.  He finally hit the target and the 
paroxysm began.

Winter thought, for just a moment, "I'll suffocate you for doing this to 
me," before her arms relaxed.

Ian slid up the bed and wordlessly asked for her mouth.  He didn't last 
a minute.

They lay on their backs, occasionally looking at each other and smiling, 
and Winter said, "You owe me a fuck."

Ian kept the same happy expression as he turned his eyes back to the 
ceiling, "Yes, I suppose I do."

Winter broke the silence, "I need to call and let my family know I won't 
be home tonight, or they'll worry."  Ian pointed to his land line. 
Winter looked at him strangely, then thought,  "Well, I'll have his 
number then, so she walked around to Ian's side of the bed and called 
Eric.  "Hey Eric, Winter."

*"What's up?"*

"I'm spending the night at my client's house," and giggled.

*"How'd it go?"*

Ian could only hear Winter's half of the conversation.

"Mixed.  His mouth is as good as his hands, maybe better, but I can't 
tell whether he's a decent lay.  Seems he got a bit over-excited, though 
I do have that effect on guys."

*"No, crazy, how much is he paying you?"*

"A lot.  Listen, I'm not on my own time right now."  She looked over at 
Ian and her face twitched in what he thought was the cutest way.  "I'll 
be home tomorrow, noonish."

*"The wedding's at two, in case you want to come, and what do I tell Mom 
and Dad?"*

"That I'm spending the night with someone I just met.  Say, 'someone.' 
They'll assume it's a girl, and won't ask.  Give everyone my hugs. 
Bye," and she hung up the phone.

Ian's head moved horizontally in both amusement and astonishment, "And 
who was *that*?"

"My brother.  The one who's getting married tomorrow."  Just then, her 
phone rang.  It was Eric.

*"Listen, Winter.  Let me talk to this guy.  I want to warn him that I 
know where he lives."*

Winter offered the phone to Ian, "It's for you."  Ian took the phone, 
bewildered.

Eric spoke sternly, "I'm her brother, and I just wanted to let you know 
that I know who you are, and where you live, and if you hurt her, I'll 
kill you."

"Understood, but if I harmed your sister, I don't think I'd deserve to 
live anyway."  There were several seconds of hesitation, and Ian handed 
Winter her phone.

She said, "Bye, Eric," closed her phone, and asked, "What's for dinner?"

She'd asked so matter-of-factly that Ian felt at ease, "What would you 
like?"

"Hmmm," said Winter.  "We could start with a green salad, romaine, with 
really good tomatoes, and homemade Caesar dressing, jumbo shrimp with 
cocktail sauce, a T-bone or porterhouse grilled medium rare, and for 
dessert, fresh berries: blueberries, blackberries or raspberries, no, 
all three, with cream, and some good drip coffee, Sumatra, with 
half&half.  Should I order breakfast now too?"

Winter expected him to be taken aback, but Ian merely asked, "And 
libations?"

"No thank you, sir.  It would impair my job performance, and I'm certain 
that we don't want *that*."

"Of course not.  So we're making dinner together," said Ian.  "That 
makes me happy, and you have good taste in food."

"And you," winked Winter, "in women."

Ian spent quite a while on the phone, then told Winter that the 
groceries would be delivered soon.  "I have what we need for the 
dressing.  We could start that now."

"Anchovies?"

"Of course," and Ian retrieved a tiny can from the fridge.

"Hey," asked Winter, "if I took that entire can of anchovies, and chewed 
them into a mush, then asked you to tongue kiss me, would you?"

Ian replied in the same manner as she had when asking what was for 
dinner, "In a heartbeat, but then we couldn't make a proper Caesar 
dressing."

They did make the dressing, and Winter teased Ian about how persnickety 
he was about getting every bit of the egg white off of the yolks.  She'd 
never had homemade Caesar dressing before, and she had asked for it 
partly because it seemed bratty, and because Caesar dressing was never 
quite fishy enough.  "Extra fishy."

Ian hadn't seen the request as the least bit unreasonable, and the 
dressing turned out to be delicious.  It wasn't Caesar exactly, but more 
like a creamy anchovy dressing.  Ian made it in a large mug with a stick 
blender, and grated in imported Parmigiano.  After they'd tasted it, Ian 
led Winter to a large sun porch that had a commercial looking grill and 
exhaust hood.  "It burns wood.  I buy hickory, but there's cherry, 
peach, apple and plum wood from the trees in the back yard.  Which would 
you like your steak cooked over?"

"Beef?  Hickory, of course.  Were you testing me?"

"No."

"Good, because even though I have good taste, I have something more.  I 
taste good."

Ian laughed because he thought of Charlie the Tuna, and Winter's extra 
fishy desire.  He was about to explain all that, but the doorbell rang. 
Winter watched the exchange, and figured that Ian must have tipped the 
delivery man unusually well by the expression on his face.   Everything 
Winter had requested was there, plus a few other things.  Winter helped 
take the groceries to the kitchen, and after putting the perishables in 
the refrigerator, noticed something she'd never seen before.  "The front 
of your dishwasher has a window."

"It does."

"Why?"

"So one can watch the process of the dishes being cleaned."

"'One,' meaning you."

"Obviously.  It's my dishwasher, but I'm happy to share."

"So, you stand there and watch your dishes wash."

"No, I sit.  That's a much better angle.  Standing is for the clothes 
washer."

"Ian, that's weird."

"It's eccentric, especially when you consider that they don't sell that 
model in North America, so I had to have it shipped from England.  I'm 
too rich to simply be weird."

Winter tore lettuce while Ian cut up the tomatoes.  They each had a 
fairly large salad.  Winter was not interested in waiting until the 
steaks were cooked to have hers, and Ian followed her lead.

They both finished their salads, and a few shrimp, then went to the 
sunroom to grill steaks.  Winter thought, "I'm going to like this being 
rich business," because the steaks were beautiful.  They were small T 
Bones, but cut thicker than usual.  When she saw how nicely marbled they 
were she said, "Not quite so rare.  Maybe almost medium."  Ian grilled 
both steaks that way.

Ian asked, "Do you want butter or olive oil?"

"Just salt and pepper is fine.  Hey, I've got a question.  I understand 
the pepper mill, because it keeps the pepper fresher not having it 
pre-ground, but why the salt mill?  Salt doesn't get stale or anything."

"I like salt ground more finely than regular table salt, not gritty. 
Try it."

"It's like the salt in the little packets at McDonalds."

After the steaks, they had coffee on the couch.  Ian explained about 
Charlie the Tuna, but Winter already knew about that.  "My dad and I 
have watched every old '60s TV commercial we could find.  Lots of old TV 
shows too.  The cigarette commercials were freaky.  They had cartoon 
characters, and even doctors advertising for them."

Winter walked to the kitchen to retrieve the berries, and much to Ian's 
surprise, sat on Ian's lap and offered him a blueberry.  "Here," she 
said, "now you feed me one."

After a few repetitions, Ian looked at her, speechless, but with an 
expression that said, "Wow."

Winter answered the silent question.  "I don't do anything half-assed, 
and I've gotten the notion that you're the same way.  No one pays more 
than $17,000 a week just for sex, at least not for long."  She smiled, 
"Not even with me, and besides, it would be tedious to try to do this 
job anything but well."  She held up a blackberry, "Open," and she put 
in the berry, but didn't remove her finger for several minutes.  When 
she did take it out, she used it to trace his lips for a moment, then 
said, "This is a win-win.  No one else would pay me half this much, and 
you couldn't find better than me at twice the price," then added, 
"probably not at any price."

"How?"

When he hesitated for just a second, Winter put her finger over his lips 
and said, "Shush.  I know what you were about to ask, but it doesn't 
matter.  Think of me as an old soul in a young body.  That's enough, 
isn't it?"   She kept her finger on his lips and pressed harder.  "I'm 
not sharing my past with you.  I'm sharing my present, and if we're both 
lucky, a few years of my future, and I suspect that you've figured out 
by now that I'm all about enjoying my life, so take me to your bed.  If 
you don't, it'll start seeming awkward, and I hate that.  And take me by 
the hand.   Don't ever pick me up again.  I'm your equal, *at least* 
your equal, and it will never be otherwise."

When Winter drew away the finger and let him speak, all Ian could think 
to say was, "You're priceless."  He said it almost in a gasp.

Winter said dismissively, "Please, I haven't had a guy in," she 
reflected and thought aloud, "more than four months."   Ian walked her 
to the bedroom, not by the hand, but by the arm.  Winter mused, "There 
you go.  You're making me feel like a lady."  Then suppressing a laugh, 
she said to herself, "A *lady of the night*."

They were both fairly full from dinner, so Winter accepted the offer of 
back rubs.  She was impressed with the strength of his hands, and how he 
was able to feel the subtleties, and identify the places that needed the 
most attention.  When it came to the main course, Ian worked her over 
for quite a bit longer than she'd expected--even longer than she'd have 
preferred, and woke up in the morning wanting more.  This time was 
gentle, and the shallow penetration maddening.  By the time he finished, 
she was even a bit sore, and she said, "I need to take a bath."  Ian 
knew what that meant, and felt sorry that he might have hurt her, and 
not because he feared her brother.  Winter saw that in his eyes and 
said, "Don't apologize."

The tub was large, and there was body wash that said, "Cinnamon Buns," 
and that smelled exactly like freshly baked cinnamon rolls.  She lay 
back and closed her eyes, then remembered the girl she'd seen crying. 
She thought, "I'd give anything if she'd just let me hold her, and I 
don't know her from Eve."  The hot water made her skin feel especially 
alive.  *Just a few more days to be a teenager, and Cupid finally got me*."

Winter lingered a long time in the bath, and when she emerged, she 
wrapped herself in the huge towel, and headed for the bedroom to don her 
yesterday's clothes.  She hadn't expected to spend the night, so that's 
all she had to wear.  Ian met her in the hall with a glass of orange 
juice he'd just squeezed, and there was a savory aroma.  "You made us 
breakfast," she said as she took the glass, and tasted the juice.  Ian 
followed her, and watched her dress with an adoring gaze.

Breakfast was nice.  There was more orange juice, coffee, and Ian asked 
her how she liked her eggs, and how many.  "Three and over easy, wait, 
over medium.  I know you freak on jizzy egg whites."

Ian laughed and said, "The things that come out of your mouth."

"You love my mouth."

Ian agreed, "I love your mouth."

Ian made the eggs and brought them to the table, after asking Winter to 
get the two dishes from the oven, one containing fries potatoes and 
sausage patties, the other, uncovered, had heavily buttered French bread 
toast.  They were in old fashioned Corning Ware, just like she'd grown 
up with.  Ian went to the fridge and got a plate of avocado slices. 
"Sorry I'm so inept at getting things served.  I never really got the 
hang of that.  Oh, forks, and a spoon for the potatoes.  See?"

Winter called the meal, "Excellent," and said she never thought of 
making breakfast toast from a baguette.  "I guess the reason that people 
don't usually do that is because it's messy," and flourishing both 
hands, added, "Crusty detritus everywhere."

"I have a good cleaning lady.  Very thorough, and there's a bonus."

Winter's eyebrows raised, "A bonus?"

"She makes me home made salsa.  Taqueria style."

"You have homemade salsa and you didn't serve it with breakfast?"

Ian put on that he had just gotten a well-deserved scolding.  "It won't 
happen again."

Wagging her finger, Winter said, "You see that it doesn't."  Winter 
crossed her arms.  "It makes me wonder what other goodies you're keeping 
from me.”  Then asked, “Actually, can I taste it?"

"Now?"

"Of course, now."  She followed him to the fridge, and from in the back, 
where she hadn't looked earlier, Ian took out two translucent squirt 
bottles, one with red, the other, green.  Winter noticed a third, "Is 
that crema?"

"Sort of.  It's regular gringo sour cream shaken up with some half&half."

"You have chips?"

"No, but I could fry some easily enough.  The oil's probably still half 
hot from the potatoes."

"I'll just use a spoon."  Winter tasted both, and declared the green to 
be, "Heavenly," and the red even better.  "My brother would die for this."

Ian said, "Take him a few bottles when you leave.  Julia just made it 
last week, so there's probably six or eight bottles of each in the 
freezer.  Tell him it's a wedding present from your new employer--the 
one he isn't going to have to kill."

"Tell him yourself."

Ian looked puzzled, "Excuse me?"

"I'm going to my brother's wedding, and I want you to be my escort." 
Winter saw the obvious humor there, and the fact that it hadn't been 
intentional had her vibrating with laughter as she congratulated 
herself, "Oh, good one."

Ian took a second to get the joke.  "You don't have an off switch, do you?"

"Nope."

"So you're serious?  You want me to go to your brother's wedding with you?"

"Sure.  It's just at the courthouse, and if you don't come they'll just 
have to hit up some stranger to be the other witness.  You might as well 
be the stranger, 'cause you're probably stranger than any of the other 
strangers who'll be there.  Then after, you can take me clothes shopping."

"Already?  Shopping?"

"You can pick out my clothes.  I get a veto of course.  Are you telling 
me that won't be fun for you?  Besides, what's this, 'already'?  You 
know I'm fast."


-- 
--Bryan https://www.instagram.com/bryangsimmons/

For your safety and protection, this sig. has been thoroughly
tested on laboratory animals.

"Most of the food described here is nauseating.
We're just too courteous to say so."
-- Cindy Hamilton