“That means dinner is close. Can I make anyone anything to drink?” Ezra asked, gesturing to the cart. “I’m equipped to provide whatever suits your fancy. We’re doing pan-seared salmon with a citrus glaze, herbed rice pilaf, and green beans with a touch of garlic and lemon zest in case you’re the type to pair your drinks with your food.”
“Scotch for me,” Luke said.
“Oliver?”
“Um... well, my favorite is a piña colada?” It came out more as a question than a statement. My drink choice had always been one of Vincent’s favorite targets. According to him, if I ordered cocktails decorated with umbrellas and fruit, I had no right to call myself a man. Though I didn’t think Luke would judge me, I became self-conscious about my choice when he had ordered the kind of stiff drink Vincent would have considered the ultimate mark of masculinity.
“Oh! Scratch that,” Luke cut in. “Make mine a piña colada too. That sounds delish. Love me some vacation in a glass.”
Luke continued to surprise.Take that, Vincent. Piña coladas are for everyone. No way you could accuse Luke of being less than a man, when he could probably bench press you into the next century,I thought.
“You got it. Babe, you want anything to pair with your dinner?”
“You know I love it when you surprise me,” Micah said as he returned to the island, winking at Ezra.
Ezra responded with a wink of his own. “And you know you inspire only my finest improvisations.”
Luke leaned into me, stage-whispering, “Those winks are their code for giving each other smooches. It started as a way to ‘kiss’ each other while Ezra worked behind the bar at the club,but now they wink at each other constantly regardless of the setting.”
“I regret ever telling you what that meant,” Ezra said.
“That’s your own fault, you had to. At the rate you were both winking at each other, I thought you were going into some sort of medical distress. I was a minute away from calling paramedics and describing the world’s most suspicious case of synchronized eye spasms.”
“You’re just jealous you have no one to share curated ocular sonnets of love with,” Micah defended.
“I love you, babe, but in Luke’s defense, your winks do kind of look like you’re malfunctioning.”
“Ugh! I know. I hate that I can’t argue with that. How do people get their facial muscles to move so smoothly?”
“I think it’s beautiful and romantic you have a language only the two of you speak,” I said, surprised I’d spoken up.
“Ha! Thank you, Oliver,” Micah said. “Glad one of us can recognize the sentiment over my poor execution.”
“I’d love to have that for myself someday,” I confessed, surprising myself further. Blurting out a secret hope in a room with strangers present was not on my bingo card of expectations for the night.
“You’ll have it, and when you do you’ll speak that kind of language fluently too,” Luke whispered for my ears only.
“What?”
“I mean, let’s lay out the facts. You’re thoughtful and sweet. You look for the best in people. And let’s not forget the most obvious, you haven’t run for the hills to get away from me, which deserves mad props on its own. Means you’ve got the patience of a saint. Whoever gets to build that kind of connection with you is gonna be stupid lucky.”
Luke did it again. Speechless. He’d rendered me speechless. There were words I could say, so many words. All of them tangled. “I um... thank you.”
Ezra handed Luke and me our drinks, saving me from having to respond further.
Taking a sip, I couldn’t help the delighted little hum that escaped me.
“I take it the recipe’s to your liking?” Ezra said.
“It’s perfect, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, what does everyone say to moving this shindig to the dining room?”
Chapter 15
Luke
Iwatched Oliver intermittently throughout the meal. Not in an overbearing way, at least I hoped not, but in the way you might monitor someone to make sure they’re alright.
