They didn't speak on the short journey from the car to the building.

Lulu wrapped her arms around her middle in attempt to gain a fraction of warmth. When Dennison saw her and realized she was cold, he shucked his blazer from his shoulders and draped it around her tiny frame. It practically hung to her knees, but it did the trick. She tried not to gorge herself on the lingering scent of his cologne that hung to the wool. She shoved her arms inside and used the garment to shield her body from the infringing cold.

She entered the building when he held the door open and stood to the side to allow her unbarred entry. She waited for him while he checked the box with his name and apartment number written on it for his mail. She laughed when she saw the plain brown wrapper on the magazine sized object he tucked under his arm. Lulu swallowed her snippy comment and recorded the thought to memory.

More silence accompanied them on the short ride on the elevator to his floor and it wasn't until he had the key in his door, that Dennison recovered his tongue, and decided to play gracious host.

"You want a drink?"

Lulu nodded as she continued to stand awkwardly in the small hallway just inside of the door. She desperately needed a drink after the long evening. Tahnya and her inappropriate comments but the strange familiarity she felt towards the woman at the end of the night. The tension between the brothers and her overwhelming need to stop playing know - it - all and relate to Dennison on a level they both could understand. Lulu fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket, stretching them and pushing them back up to her elbows in attempt to release some of the pent up energy virtually driving her insane.

The apartment looked different in the somber light of the moon that filtered in through the windows. Dennison flipped switches and touched lamps to offset some of the glare before he returned to the spot where she stood and helped her out of the overwhelming garment. He folded it over his arm and directed her to the leather sofa.

"Get comfortable, I'll be back in a second."

She stepped further into the apartment, noting pieces of furniture and intricate details that she hadn't noticed earlier in the evening. She contemplated climbing the ladder into the partial loft above the main floor.

"You hungry," She jumped at the sound of his voice so near, "I can call the pub on the corner and place an order," His hands were comforting and firm on her shoulders as he turned her to face him, "Or I make a hell of a smoked gouda grilled cheese."

Dennison Lord was impossibly cute with his uncertain brown eyes and trembling bottom lip, "I'll take the grilled cheese and the strongest shot of liquor you have."

~`~

Dennison burned the tip of his fingers on the inside of the Calphalon pan as he attempted to flip the sandwich without disturbing his beautiful creation of cheese and apple slices on sourdough bread. He didn't hop around or scream at the top of his lungs like he wanted to, instead he maintained his cool. He was cooking, but not only was he sweating in a kitchen he rarely used, he had a job, and an appointment on Monday to discuss trading the hunk of tin that doubled as his mode of transportation. It was all her fault. She wasn't that cute...okay...yes she was, but still in one week she had him swallowing his pride, conquering his long standing fear of his father's disapproval, and forging a new path for his life. They were all good changes, but he wasn't ready to rescind his membership to the Democratic Party, yet.

All of his whining about the mistaken second date had been just that whining. He didn't mean it. In fact he hoped that by some miracle he got the opportunity for a third date, but sometimes sabotage was easier than rejection. He didn't want to grow attached to Lulu, her smile, or the way she cut her eyes when he said something particular stupid. He flipped the sandwich, slid it on the plate, and carried it to the table where a short glass of Jack and Coke waited.

"Grub time."

Lulu smiled graciously before she settled in the chair and tore into the food. She was starving and the only sustenance he had provided for most of the evening was misplaced testosterone. He ignored the subsequent grunts and groans that came when she took the first bite of the sandwich. He busied himself with cleaning and silent conversations to keep his body and mind in check. Two days ago, she was trying to kill him, two hours ago he was calling their association a blunder, and now she was devouring the only thing he could prepare without burning it beyond recognition.

"This is really good Den."

His ears perked with her use of what could be classified as a nickname.

"Den..." He prodded as her eyes widened. He swore she was blushing under the rich hues of chocolate that pigmented her skin.

"Sorry," She picked at the sandwich nervously until he came around the table to stand in front of her, "Dennison is so professional and Denny sounds like a pedophile."

She did have a sense of humor, "You can call me anything you like."

~`~

Too close...he was too close.

Dennison's presence was overpowering. She didn't care what her mother said or Gita swore was the law of attraction, there was no way that she was going to be crushing over some overgrown Judd Apatow extra who just decided to get a job after their first date.

He had a belly that hung over the waist of his jeans. He tended to snort and spit a little when he laughed. Yet when he looked at her, a chill shot down her spine and she had to concentrate twice as hard to respond in a coherent manner. She listened intently as he told stories about his mother and innocent fights with his brother. She saw a glimpse of the little boy who only wanted to make his father proud and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and squeeze.

They weren't that different.

Sure she could measure the success of her life, in the promotions and raises that had been tossed in her direction, but Dennison's fate could have easily been her own. She had no right to judge him as a lazy loser, who enjoyed the lack of direction his life had previously taken.

Plus he made a hell of a sandwich.

Lulu was positively addicted to Gouda and apple grilled cheese sandwiches and if he kept pouring shots of Jack like he had been for the last hour, she was well on the way to intoxicated.

~`~

Insane...Lulu Marx was driving him insane.

There was the smallest fraction of melted cheese on her cheek, adorned with the shimmer of fresh butter. He wanted to taste it, lick it off, and forget every lesson his parents taught him about being a gentleman. Instead, he filled her glass, and even poured a shot for himself.

There was no way she was interested in him, like that. No women like Lulu married guys who wore tailored suits, got weekly manicures, and had the next twenty years of their life mapped out. Women like her didn't fall for mama's boys who couldn't even work up the nerve to grab her ass and steal a kiss.

Drink after drink they downed, until three quarters of a bottle turned to a half, and finally they were wondering where it all went. He swallowed his final drink in one gulp, regretting it immediately when his acid reflux kicked up a notch, and his stomach began to churn with the familiar burn, generally signaling that he needed to light a match and proceed to the bathroom.

He needed a distraction, "Can I kiss you?"

~`~

Lulu's mouth went dry when she heard his question. She didn't chance an asinine response so she nodded her head, closed her eyes, and waited for the disaster to occur.

Gone was the goofiness that often accompanied his actions. He was both tender and suave when he caressed her cheek, ran his thumb across her bottom lip, and moved in for a kiss. His surprising dominance and control produced an uncharacteristic response from her body. She was breathless and aroused by the time their lips finally touched. Dennison was tentative with his exploration, allowing his lips to mold to hers briefly before they set forth on their own expedition. He pulled her closer and she went willingly, doing everything but straddling his lap and begging for more.

And as soon as it began...it ended...

Her lips parted...

Her head fell to the side...

She struggled to comprehend what had just occurred as her heart pounded a melodic tune. She brought her fingers to her lips in an effort to prolong the lingering sensation created by his kiss. The man was a riddle she would never solve.

Slowly Lulu's eyes opened and the blood returned to her brain, enabling her to process a series of thoughts that didn't involve nakedness and the various places his lips could land on her body, "How do you feel about Sunday dinner at my parents' house."

Her answer was a quiet and simple, "Yes."