They each took a few moments ordering their food before returning to their conversation.
Considering how much trolls like to eat and the large quantities of food they could put away, food was a big deal among his kind and he admired her system.
"That's inspired," he said. "If I weren't so lazy, I'd have to do something like that."
She stared at him for a moment as though his words shocked her.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't think it's weird?"
He snorted. "No way. I'm a troll. We love food and eat a lot of it. This would be excellent for the nights I don't want to cook and don't want to leave the house." He paused. "Which is every night, so maybe I'm not too lazy to do this."
Once again, she graced him with her beaming smile. "Maybe I could help you."
His heart literally skipped a beat or something. Oh, God. This was crazy. Was he dying or was he dangerously close to liking this woman?
Normally, he'd assume he needed to see a cardiologist because he rarely liked new people.
But he had to admit, if only to himself, he was starting to like her.
She seemed to realize that they were staring at each other in silence because her face turned pink and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Enough about my obsessive need to make lists of things. Tell me something about yourself."
"Something?" he asked as his mind suddenly went blank. He could barely remember his own name now.
She grimaced. "Yeah, that's a little like a job interview question, isn't it?" She hesitated. "Okay, speaking of jobs, I work in a bookstore. What do you do?"
That was easier. "I work with wood. I build furniture and sometimes make sculptures if someone commissions something or I'm feeling inspired."
Dylan leaned forward, her expression interested. "Really? What did you work on today?"
He grinned. "A rocking dragon for my nephew. He's three."
She smiled back at him. "A rocking dragon?"
"Like a rocking horse, but way cooler."
Then, the most amazing thing happened.
As he watched, she tilted her head back and laughed.
It was pure magic. He could hear the whisper of the wind and the babbling of a brook in her laugh. He knew then that she was a wood nymph.
And he realized he could never introduce her to his mother because his mom would take one look at her and declare her perfect for him and set about doing whatever it took to make sure that they settled down in matrimony and made lots of little trollings.
Then, again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
Wait. What in the hell was he thinking? He didn't even know this nymph. What if she was high maintenance? What if she snored? Well, that didn't matter because all trolls snored. Even if his mother liked to pretend otherwise.
Dylan stopped laughing and asked, "What's wrong?"
He cleared his throat and sipped his beer again. "You have a beautiful laugh."
Her cheeks turned pink again. "Thank you." Her gaze dropped to the table briefly before she looked back up. "So, do you spoil your nephew?"
Glad for the change of subject, he answered honestly, "I spoil them all if for no other reason than to drive my sister nuts."
