“Well, aren’t we a pair?”
“We could be,” I said, biting my lip and staring at the baguette that I’d ripped into pieces. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”
“What? Really?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, no longer allowing second-guessing and doubts to cloud my mood. “I know we’ve only been here for about ten minutes, but since you picked me up, I’ve gone from glee to panic to overindulged lust.”
“Lust?” he chuckled, leaning across the table and giving me a sly wink.
“Yes,” I snapped, as his gaze danced with mischief. “You know how good you look in that suit.”
Maverick’s eyes widened before his smile deepened, and he leaned across the table, reaching for my hand. I threaded my fingers through his, feeling the warm, calloused skin beneath my palm. “I wasn’t aware, but I’d love for you to tell me more.”
I rolled my eyes and blushed, avoiding his gaze and focusing on the mangled bread. “I’ll get to that later. For now, to put all my cards on the table—”
“I assumed you were thinking about that doctor because you’d rather be with him.”
I snorted, and he smiled, shaking his head and running the hand not holding mine through his hair.
“Please don’t assume. When you said it wasn’t in the cards, my mind immediately wandered to Dad’s doctor, who, full disclosure, I am not interested in.”
“Ah. So, then, you assumed I was trying to let you down easy or some shit?”
He squeezed my hand gently before turning it over and tracing his fingertips along my palm and to my wrist. He repeated the pattern twice, his eyes never leaving my hand and my hand not leaving his. “Why don’t we both stop assuming and just talk?”
His grip was firm and assured as I laid my other hand on top of our connected ones. “Sure, that sounds good. And I wouldn’t have minded, you know? If you were trying to let me down easy. It’s not like we know one another very well.”
“Hang on a second—”
“Vous êtes prêts à commander? Are you ready to order?” the server asked, pulling us both from the awkward tension that had overtaken the table.
I pulled my hand back and clasped my thigh underneath the linen cloth, rubbing away the feeling of his touch.
“A few more minutes, please,” Maverick said, not taking his eyes off mine and leaving his hand, palm open, on the table.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be back momentarily.” He nodded and snapped his order book closed before turning away from us.
“What do you mean you wouldn’t have minded? This evening started so well, but now I’m really confused, and it isn’t just the menu.”
I sighed. “I’m horrible at this, Mav, and talking to you only made it painfully obvious that I haven’t flirted or been on a flipping date in a decade.”
“Ten years? Ha, I’d be better off doing an interpretive dance in a bowl of mashed potatoes than flirting. I have you beat by at least another decade.”
“Mashed potatoes? Really?”
“I thought that was pretty clever. Would you prefer macaroni and cheese?” he quipped, shifting slightly on the cushioned chair.
“Perhaps red Jell-O? But if it meant watching you do an interpretive dance, I wouldn’t be picky.”
“Deal. You bring the Jell-O and I’ll bring the killer dance moves.”
“Done. We ride at dawn.”
I paused and turned to the left, taking in the warm, inviting grays and blues along with the crackling—but very fake—fireplace. The light from the fire flickered around the room, bouncing off the mini chandeliers and casting shadows on the walls. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of us, and even the soft music disappeared as we simply watched each other with shy smiles.
“I like this. Being here. With you,” I said, letting my hand creep back across the table to take his.
“Then why say you wouldn’t be upset if I was trying to let you down easy? Which, to reiterate—I am not.”
