I chuckle, and we both take a seat at the table while staff moves about the room, filling our glasses with water and setting a fruit platter on the table for us to pick at. “Funny enough, this is my first official lunch date at Strombly too, so we can take each other’s virginity together.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I wince. “I mean . . . uh, maybe phrasing that’s classier than that.”
He laughs. “I quite like the virginity thing.” He pauses and then with a horrified expression, he says, “Uh, wait, that didn’t sound right.”
“No, it did not.” I smile.
“Maybe we start this conversation over.”
“Why? It’s going so well already.”
He smirks and it’s quite cute. “You sure know how to make someone feel comfortable.”
“Is that sarcasm?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not. Many people I’ve met in the higher positions in the government are pretty stuck-up, the king and queen excluded. If I said half the stuff to them that I’ve said to you, I’m pretty sure I’d be court-martialed.”
“Well, have no fear, there’s nothing stuck-up about me . . . other than the fact that I’m still trying to get used to the fermented cod cakes.”
“That will take time. Just be happy you’re not an honored guest at the fermented cod cake cook-off. I’ve seen many a judge lose their cookies at those events.”
“Making mental notes to tell Henrik that I’ll never take the job on.”
“Very smart.” He picks up a strawberry. “What made you change your mind about lunch?”
I shrug. “Just thought it might be fun. I had a good time the other night and figured why not allow myself to continue to have a good time. And in all honesty, when you asked me, I was caught off guard. It’s so close to the wedding that I was second-guessing myself. But, you know, we’re just talking and hanging out, that’s all.”
“Exactly. No promises, nothing like that. I really enjoyed our evening too. And if anything, I can now say the future queen of Torskethorpe stalked me.”
“I expect you to put that on your résumé.”
“Already did.” He smirks again.
* * *
“I’msorry you had to see that,” I say to Evan, who quietly sips his soup across from me.
“See what?” he asks.
“Me sucking on this soup like it’s life’s nectar.”
He lets out a laugh, his head tilting back, showing off the thick column of his neck. I’ve noticed that the thin fabric of his sweater has indicated that this man has a fit body. Not just fit . . . ripped.
The soft fabric clings to every contour and sinew of his body from his pecs to his biceps. And with every move he makes, the sweater tugs and pulls across each muscle, momentarily distracting me. I might still be in love with another man, but it’s hard not to stare at what Evan has to offer.
“It’s good soup. I won’t hold it against you.”
I lean back in my chair and rest my hands on my lap while he finishes his soup. “You’ve bestowed some class on this lunch date. If it wasn’t for you, this table would be hounded by rabid beasts.”
“You being one of them?” he asks.
“Naturally, and the woodland creatures I keep in my purse.”
“Aw, I heard a rumor about you carting around squirrels, but up until now, I just assumed it was a rumor.”
“No, it’s all true, they accompany me on outings and keep me on the straight and narrow.”
“But not while eating?”
“No, we all lose our sense of decorum while food is in front of us.”
