“Think of lunch in public as reconnaissance.”
“So we’re spies now?”He picked up half of his grilled chicken sandwich, then put it down again.
“We can learn a lot about the Telfords, the town, and potential properties for sale by listening, seeming interested, or maybe acting dumb.”
He opened his mouth to object, and she practically shoved her sandwich in his mouth.“Taste this.It’s heavenly.”
He had no alternative but to take a bite and choke down the avocado and sprouts and squash—he grimly remembered her order.
He chewed and glared.
“It’s healthy.Taste my soup—it’s divine.”
“Cream of broccoli inspires nothing celestial.”
“Says you.”As if to taunt him, she spooned some of her soup in her mouth, moaned a little and then licked her bottom lip.“Gorgeous,” she said in a tone that reminded him of a Taylor Swift song.
Cam had been a huge fan, regularly blaring Taylor songs in the car or at the home-office gym as if he didn’t own a pair of earbuds.
She smiled cheekily.“You only think you’re going to enjoy your carnivore feast.You’re turning green.”
“That would be you eating your weight in chlorophyll.”
She laughed in delight.“I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use that word in conversation.”
He stared at her, one fry poised at his lips.She was fun.Taking delight in something so basic.She swiped the fry out of his hand and kissed his fingertips.“Thank you.”
He forgot how to breathe.
“Smile,” she encouraged softly.“We’ve got an audience.”
Oh.Improv again.The unexpected sparkle of the moment dimmed.The barista brought over their lattes.“Sorry about the delay.Here’s a cowboy cookie on the house.”
“Thank you.”Ayana smiled like she’d been comped a bottle of champagne.“You’re the best, Sally.I can never resist chocolate chips and walnuts, and this cookie has even more goodies.We’ll definitely be back to try more on your menu.This is my first pumpkin spice latte this season.”
“It’s popular.”
Telford hadn’t even noticed her name.Ayana noticed the details.Made the connections he’d never bothered to make.She was being a better partner than he was.He sipped his drink and wondered at the next course of action.They had a meeting with a realtor tomorrow to discuss what he was looking for.
It would help if I knew.
“So do you avoid all vegetables or is it just broccoli that’s the villain?”
He had a hard time not squirming.But he had to tell her something about his life, his past.They were married, even though it wasn’t a traditional marriage.
“My mom loved broccoli.She cooked it so many different ways,” he said.And had to swallow hard and look away from the intent look in Ayana’s eyes as if he was revealing a soul secret.“She…” He couldn’t tell her everything.Not yet.Maybe not ever.“She died when I was eight, and I had to go into foster care.And the first group home was strict about food, and the home mom was not a good cook and I-I couldn’t choke it down.Broccoli reminded me of everything I’d lost so… I got punished a lot and ran away a lot and got punished for that.”
She covered her hand with hers.He looked down at the table.His skin was darker.His hand larger.Hers was pale, smallish, but calloused.He wanted to flip his hand around so they’d be palm to palm.Something he’d seen couples do.
“Maybe, if we rent a place somewhere or find the property, we could try to recreate some of your mom’s recipes, if you wanted, or invent one of our own.”
He stared at her.That had never occurred to him.He’d just avoided broccoli.
“I never told Cam about the broccoli,” he mused.
She squeezed his hand.“You want to have a legacy for Cam, maybe one for your mom.”
He felt almost dizzy from the new perspective.
