Stars above, the man was wearing a suit jacket. A black suit jacket, surely tailored to fit across his shoulders, along with formally cut blue jeans and a sage-green shirt. Who had told him to wear green all the time? His last girlfriend? Knowing how to emphasize the beauty of his eyes seemed out of character for Ezra Sterling.
Willow stepped over to their table, and Ezra’s mouth turned up as he pulled out her chair. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks,” she said as she sat. Her mouth was too dry to say more. A real date. The fair hadn’t counted after all.
He nodded and took his seat across from her, and…wait. Willow looked around the restaurant again. Every single table had the same white floral centerpiece. Except their table. The vase was different, simple smooth glass, offering no distraction from the bouquet of red, purple, and white gerbera daisies. Real daisies.
Willow reached out a finger and stroked one of the petals. “Did you do this?”
He smiled, meeting her eyes while ducking his head—doable at six-foot-five. “Yeah.”
“Red and purple,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“You remembered my favorite colors.”
The smile wobbled. “That’s okay, right?”
“Ezra, I know married women whose husbands couldn’t tell you their wife’s favorite color.”
He stiffened. His Adam’s apple dipped below his collar. “If you’re uncomfortable with them, I can take them away and…and put the fake ones back.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just wasn’t expecting it, because guys don’t usually pay attention like this. They don’t usually go the extra mile like this.”
He gave a slow nod, absorbing her words with earnest focus. He was quiet a moment, gazing at the daisies, and then he shrugged. “I don’t consider flowers going the extra mile. They’re basic dating procedure.”
She giggled.
“What?”
“You just sound so methodical. About dating.”
“Um…” An adorable blush crept up his neck. “I’m kind of methodical about…everything.”
“Which is okay. And I’m sorry for the delay in saying this: Ezra, the flowers are beautiful. I love them. Thank you.”
Now his smile blossomed, unrestrained, and she smiled back.
Moments after they opened their menus, the truth became clear. Ezra had never eaten here before either. He looked over every item before ordering, and Willow enjoyed having time to do the same. All too often at a new place with friends, she was the last to choose, scrambling to make her decision so everyone else’s orders could go in too.
When they were both ready and their server returned, Ezra motioned her to go first.
“I’d like the portobello ravioli please,” she said.
“Soup or salad?”
“Soup, minestrone please.”
“Got it. And for you, sir?”
“Beef braciole please, and vegetable soup,” Ezra said.
“All right, your food will be here shortly.”
Willow grinned as the server took their menus and stepped away. “Is there a more carnivorous option on the menu? I think not.”
“Hey, I’m getting my veggies too.” His mouth curved with mischief.
