“Don’t you?”
“Sometimes.”
She laughed. “You like your nice, quiet life.”
Luke cracked a smile. “It’s not very quiet these days.”
“Are you nervous about deploying?”
He sliced into a roll, buttered it. “No.”
“Have you been to Afghanistan before?”
“Yes.”
“Chatty Cathy over here.”
“What did you see in this Ted guy?” He changed the subject with no attempt at subtlety, and Harper decided to give him a break.
But it necessitated a large gulp of beer. “Ugh. I’ve been asking myself that. My friend Hannah warned me. I was new on the job. I thought he was cute, except for the goatee. He seemed like he was a good boss. And then he started bringing me coffee in the mornings. Sending me funny emails ...”
“You’re a hearts and flowers girl.”
“If by ‘hearts and flowers’ you mean a romantic, then yes. I still believe that there’s a guy out there who’s going to sweep me off of my feet and live happily ever after with me.”
Luke smirked. “The knight in shining armor who rides in to save the day.”
“I don’t know aboutthat. Sometimes you have to save yourself or someone else. But I wouldn’t mind riding off into the sunset with someone.”
“You women and your desire for grand romantic gestures.”
Harper laughed. “Please, the only time a woman needs a grand romantic gesture is when she doesn’t know she’s loved.”
“I’m not buying that. What about the girls who pick out their own $15,000 engagement ring and demand a wedding for 400 guests?”
“Apples to oranges. There’s a difference between being on the receiving end of a grand romantic gesture and demanding to be the very expensive center of attention. On one hand, you have someone who wants to make sure that you know beyond a shadow of a doubt how they feel about you. On the other hand, some poor schmuck is just buying a gimmie girl off with sparkly presents and lots of attention.”
“A gimmie girl? Now that paints a picture.” Luke laughed and Harper warmed at the sight of his dimple.
The waitress returned with their food and the subject was dropped while they dug in. They enjoyed their meal and made small talk about work, food, and Benevolence. She felt relaxed, remarkably, considering that most of her time with Luke was spent wavering between extremes of nervousness and lust.
It was a constant battle that she hoped would dull soon. It was embarrassing that every time she saw him shirtless, she had to stop herself from licking her lips.
The band in the other room switched to a slower tune. Harper gasped as the first few chords of the Jeff Healey Band’s “Angel Eyes” echoed through the room. “I love this song, Luke! This is my all-time favorite romantic fantasy song. Dance with me?”
“Romantic fantasy?”
“There are all kinds of fantasies, Luke. Romantic, orgasmic ...”
“No one else is dancing.”
“Who cares? We don’t know anyone here. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Is that how you make decisions? ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’” he mimicked, tossing imaginary long hair.
Harper ignored his question and tugged him out of the booth towards the floor in front of the band. He was right. No one else was dancing, but someone always had to be first.
Luke’s grip stopped her where she was and he pulled her back into his arms. Her breasts flattened against his warm, solid chest, their mouths an inch apart. Luke’s hands splayed across her back holding her to him.
