It rocked him—the intimacy of holding hands with her. Her fingers were delicate and confident. She looked one hundred percent comfortable with herself, just as she always did, just as she should for this assignment.
It was only when he opened the restaurant's door that she broke the contact of their hands to precede him inside.
A hostess showed them to their reserved table. One quick scan as they walked informed Jude that Cedric and Vincent had not yet arrived.
They settled at their four-top, which had a small bouquet of spring flowers in the center and linen napkins. The whole place was decorated in tones of beige. Expensive fixtures gave off warm, flattering light. Almost every table was already full at this hour, yet the acoustics and spacing were such that the conversations of other diners were muted—festive but not deafening.
Gemma moved to slip off her coat.
He reached out to help. “Would you like me to hang this up for you?” He'd left his coat on the rack by the entrance.
“Thanks, but no. I'll keep this draped behind me in case I get cold, which I’m likely to do on and off during the meal.”
“Shame this restaurant doesn't hand out throw blankets.”
“You’ve noticed my affinity for throw blankets?”
“Impossible not to notice. You leave a trail of them like breadcrumbs everywhere you go.”
Dimples dug into her cheeks. “It’s not terrible to have a boyfriend who notices things about me.” Already, she was playing the role of girlfriend convincingly. She took a deep breath. “I love how it smells in here. What do you smell?”
He thought about it. “Maybe beef cooking?” That seemed more obvious and also safer than saying,your perfume.
“Yes. I also smell figs and brown sugar and butter and rosemary. Very promising smells.”
They'd arrived five minutes prior to their reservation time. Not so early that it would seem strange to Cedric. But early enough to give them time to pretend to study the menu, even though they'd already accessed it online and decided which dishes they'd order. When Cedric got here, they'd be able to give him their full attention.
By 5:10 Cedric still hadn't showed.
Gemma had warned Jude that her cousin tended to run late, on what he jokingly called “Cedric time.”
Gemma was talking about how much she enjoyed it staying light later at this time of the year because winter sometimes gave her a case of the seasonal blues. And he was admiring her freckles and how her gray irises were darker around the rims—
Her words suddenly broke off and she raised her hand to wave. “Here he is!” Gemma stood and approached her cousin with open arms.
Jude rose, giving Gemma and Cedric space as they did that triple-air-kiss thing that French people did. They followed that up with a hug.
Parting from Cedric, Gemma addressed Cedric's friend. “Vincent, welcome back to America.” She and Vincent went through the three kisses but not the hug.
Gemma stepped back. “I’d like to introduce my boyfriend, Jude.”
Jude shook hands with both men.
Cedric smiled affectionately at Gemma. “C'est bon de te revoir, cousin.”It's good to see you again, cousin, Jude translated in his head.
“C'est bon de te voir aussi,” Gemma replied smoothly.
“Vous êtes ravissante.”
You look lovely, Cedric had said.
“Merci.”
Cedric's attention shifted to Jude. “Do you speak French?”
“Only a little.” Gemma had already told him that she and her cousin spoke almost entirely in English since the mediocre French she'd picked up through her high school classes didn't serve her as well as did Cedric's excellent English.
They took their places at the table and their server—a middle-aged woman with blond bangs and a tight ponytail—approached to take drink orders.
