"Really? That sounds wonderful. I love eating outside. It always feels like an extra adventure. Like a picnic, but at a table," I grin.
This remark makes Bardil laugh, and his eyes drift over me in thoughtful silence.
"You really are something… " he mutters.
"Something disastrous? Something else? Something impossible to deal with," I start guessing.
"Just something." He winks at me, and instantly my heart is in my throat and beating like a million wild horses running at full speed.
Dammit, Kita. It was just a freaking wink.
"Would you like to take a seat, and I'll have the chef start bringing out our dinner?" He pulls a chair out for me, and I sit down, enjoying the special treatment.
Bardil disappears for a moment, then returns to sit with me. He chooses the seat right next to me this time instead of opposite me. He even shifts it so that it's close enough for our legs to be touching beneath the table. He brushes his hand over my thighs and quietly says, "This is nice, isn't it?"
The question sinks deeper than it should. It feels like he's saying more than just those simple words. I sigh softly and nod. "This is nice," I agree, then tear my eyes off him to look at the ocean because if I look at him any longer, my heart is going to start going on again about how I'm falling for him.
The chef brings out an ocean platter. Lobster, fresh-caught line fish, prawns, crispy potato wedges, fresh, crisp salad, and an assortment of butter, lemon, and garlic sauces. It looks and smells incredible, and I'm relieved it's not sushi or some kind of food I'd have to make an excuse to not eat because of the pregnancy. As far as I know, as long as the seafood is cooked, it's safe.
You should tell him about the baby.
No. It's not the right time. This can't be rushed.
I point to the things I want, and Bardil puts them on a plate for me. He laughs when I get icked out by lobster andprawn shells and steps in to pull the meaty bits out for me, so I don't have to touch anything.
He teases me about it, but doesn't hesitate to save me from my dilemma.
Across the ocean, the sunset is neon orange and the pinkest pink I've ever seen. It's gorgeous. My heart is happy. Everything about this moment is perfect.
The problem is thateachmoment I share with him… the sunset dinner, the leftover peppermint tarts afterward, even the lasagna dinner the night before… It's all special. Too special. I'm reading into things in ways that I shouldn't be, and no matter how much I tell myself it's in my head… I can't help thinking there is something real growing between us.
Naive, silly hope.
But hope nonetheless. It's there even if I don't want to admit it.
The only time the hope dwindles is when I try to bring up my family or his. He gets avoidant and elusive. Either shutting down and growing quiet or blatantly changing the subject.
How am I going to ever tell him about the baby if I can't get him to look past this anger?
At night we lie in bed together, watching series or talking until one of us falls asleep. In the mornings, I wake up snuggled next to him, wrapped in his arms or with my legs tangled through his. How can something feel so genuine, yet terrifying?
"I have to go out this morning, little rabbit," he groans, his voice deep and husky from sleep. "But I was thinking… Tomorrow I have the whole day free, and we should go somewhere?"
"Really? I'd love to. Another adventure?" I ask, lifting my head to look up at him.
"Another adventure. I've already got something in mind," he grins.
"Why do I have a feeling you're not going to tell me what it is?" I narrow my eyes at him.
"I'll tell you. But only because I know you're going to be really excited about it and it'll give you something to look forward to," he chuckles.
My brows shoot up, and my smile grows wider. "How do you know me so well?" I laugh.
"There is a very popular market that happens once a year in Miami. It's so big that the event takes up the whole city garden. There are hundreds of stalls. Homemade art, foods, pastries, skin care products, clothes, books… You name it… It's there. Even vintage and thrift things. My sister loves it. She's dragged me there a few times. I thought maybe you'd enjoy it too?"
My eyes are already virtually popping out of my skull with excitement.
"Are you serious? I would never in my entire life be able to convince my brothers to take me to a place like that. They'd hate it. Are you really taking me there?" I ask, bubbling over with excitement.
