“I’m happy as long as I’m spending time with you.” The words were out before he thought about them. It was true, though, and that was scary. They’d only been on a couple of dates. He’d never been so invested in a relationship before.
Zita stared at him, her mouth agape. He should backpedal, he probably sounded mad. Before he could, she launched herself into his arms and kissed him.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She kissed him again. “I like hanging out with you too.”
Relief flooded him and he held her tightly, enjoying the way her body fit against his. “Good to know.”
She wiggled out of his hold. “We should cut down on the public display of affection. People are glaring at us.”
He didn’t care what people thought, which was new for him. “They’re just jealous.” He kissed her again and then took her hand. “What do you want to eat?”
“There’s an Irish pub outside.”
“Sounds good.”
Inside the pub David was immediately transported to Dublin. There were wooden floors, sturdy wooden tables and chairs, and a well-stocked bar with a sign proclaiming the best Guinness in America. They found a table and Zita sighed.
“Are you all right?”
She smiled. “This place always reminds me of Papa. He probably drank at a pub like this before he left Ireland.”
“Is that where he’s from?”
“Yeah. He came to El Salvador in his early twenties and never left. He died when I was three.”
“Is that why when you swear, you say ‘feck’?”
She blushed. “Yes. It started when I was a teenager and desperately wanted a connection to Papa. I thought if I used the occasional Irish phrase, I’d be honoring his memory, keeping some part of him alive.” She shrugged. “Now it’s a habit.”
“I can understand.” It would be hard to lose a parent so young. “Do you have much contact with his family in Ireland?”
“I don’t have any. He was an only child and his parents died before I was born.”
“What about extended family?”
“None that I know of. I was going to look into it this year.” She grimaced. “But I haven’t found the time.”
They placed their orders.
“Maybe you should set some more time-based goals.”
She screwed up her face. “You’re right. I’ll set them when I get home.” She typed something into her phone. “So what have you got planned next weekend? Maybe we can do something together— just the two of us.”
“I have the guys coming around for poker on Friday night.” He normally looked forward to it, but now he kind of wished he had the evening free.
“Which guys are these?”
“My college friends. We get together once a month to play poker and tell lies.”
She laughed. “Tell me more. Did you get up to lots of mischief?”
“A bit.” He grinned, taking a sip of his wine. “Garth was my roommate, and we were taking the same classes as Lee and Colin.”
“I wouldn’t have picked accounting majors as being mischief makers.”
“How little you know.” He’d meant it as a joke but her face fell.
“You’re right. I’ve not been to college.”
