A Lick of Sense

Hill Street was alive. Los Angeles was out in force. Up and down the street soldiers, sailors, and marines were kissing girls. It was New Years Eve all over again. Both Lucy and Sophie had been kissed a dozen times, but Lucy started watching a soldier elbow his way through the crowd. Tall and rugged looking, if he'd been in the movies he would have been the villain, not the hero. The stripes said sergeant, but he had the look of an officer. She had noticed him, standing still, as though he was lost, almost a look of despair on his face. Oops. Must be six feet, maybe taller. Way too tall, but in his dress uniform he looked as neat as a general. How did he get that uniform to fit so well? A sailor grabbed her, kissed her, and went on to Sophie. The sergeant was coming her way. Lucy was still burning about her father and the fact that he had forbidden her to leave the house. She was twenty for heaven's sakes. What was she going to do? What kind of a job could she get? Tish worked at Woolworth's and Lil was babysitting when she had a chance. She'd been making good money running the spot welder until the Germans had surrendered. She could have had her own apartment, but now she was probably stuck at home forever, sharing that dinky little room with her two sisters. The sergeant carried himself well. When he stopped in front of her she wondered if he realized she had been watching him come closer. She started to turn away, but her eyes kept going to the double row of ribbons on his chest, including ones she couldn't identify. The gray rifle on a blue background that he wore on his right side was a one she had never before seen. The smile appearing on his face was to die for. "What's a pretty little filly like you doing out on a night like this?" Even with all those battle ribbons he was wearing, not only were his lips smiling, his eyes were as well, deep, dark eyes that almost had a hint of silver in them. He was talking to her, not grabbing her. The war hadn't turned his eyes bitter. The soft hint of a nasal twang told her that the movie would have to be a Western. A man like this would probably be on the side of the Indians, not the cowboys, maybe the Indian Chief on a horse, aiming his bow and arrow at the soldiers. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out all alone." "I'm old enough to do as I please." He looked her up and down. His face broke out in a broad grin. "Dang, it all, girl, I'm old enough to know better. You're not the type I usually go for, but you're the prettiest thing I've seen in a long time. Saw you half a block away, and had to see for myself if you're a girl worth meeting." "Let me guess." She cocked her head back a bit to look up. "You like your ladies to be long, lean, and willing. That lets me out on all three counts." "We can find a box for you to stand on." He was grinning at her. "That would take care of the long part." "No one's ever mistaken me for lean. I like to eat too well." "Curves just could be a mite more comfortable at that, and if I'm paying for dinner, I expect a girl to eat every bite on her plate." "I was taught to do that." She was enjoying herself. "It's that last part that's the stickler. You won't find anyone who will tell you I'm willing." "We'll have to work on that a bit." He didn't grab her. His arms were gentle as they enveloped her. The kiss started out soft, but rushed into something else. Suddenly it wasn't brief, and it wasn't shallow. She felt it was as though she had never really been kissed before. His breath was nice. No cigarette or beer taste. She liked that, and let him explore her mouth all he wanted, and did a bit exploring herself, all the while feeling that something special was happening. Jerry's kisses had been nice, but they hadn't overwhelmed her with the desire to sink into him and be part of him. It was as though the tall stranger was twisting her into a knot and setting her on fire. She could feel that kiss run through every nerve in her body. Her arms reached out to cling to him. He looked down, meeting her eyes. "You'd better be footloose and fancy free, little girl." He looked as shocked as she felt. "You pack quite a wallop for someone who isn't going it take up much room in a bed." "Do that again," she whispered. "You feel it, too, little girl?" "Just don't let go of me or I'll fall." Don't walk away from me. The thought pounded its way through her head. "Couldn't if I wanted to, and I don't want to. We're going to try that again and see if it's real. Never had a woman do this to me in one little kiss. Tell the truth, makes me wish we weren't in the middle of a crowded street." Their lips met again, and Lucy wondered if she could even walk. Her whole being was exploding. Please, Mother Mary, don't let him walk away. It was her prayed in a long time. "Seems I've heard something about girls who wear red shoes and their lack of underwear." His words were quiet, for her ears only. "A little too public for me to find out if it's true." "Not true, Sergeant," she murmured. "I wear them, and I keep them on." "You'll take them off for me, little girl, because I'm going to marry you. Where do you live? I'll see you home."