Page 12 of Falling for You

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink and she tucks a long strand of her deep red hair behind her ear. “Well, let’s just say that they were almost as curious as I am. It’s not exactly my M.O. that I would meet a stranger for dessert.”

Raising my eyebrows, I ask in a challenge, “But you’d swipe right on Tinder?”

“Now that didn’t exactly turn out in my favor, did it?”

I chuckle. “No. No, it did not.”

Our server places Chloe’s mug of hot water along with a container of different flavors of tea in front of her and a mug of coffee in front of me along with a small pitcher of creamer. “I’ll be right back with the cheesecake and brownie bites for you. The Cookie and fritters will be out soon.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

We ready our drinks and Chloe wraps her hands around her mug before lifting it to her lips, puckering as she blows on the hot liquid. I try not to stare but the shiny peach color to her plump lips is too enticing not to become captivated by. When she raises her eyes from her tea to meet mine, I don’t look away. She blushes deeper but holds my gaze.

The server returns with our first course of dessert and I lift my fork in her direction, grinning. “Cheers.”

She bites her lip and returns the gesture. “This looks amazing,” she says, plunging her fork into the back of the cheesecake. As soon as she slides the cake into her mouth, her eyes roll and she eases back into her chair, moaning. I smirk, shift in my seat, and pop a hunk of chewy brownie into my mouth in one large bite. The caramel swirled into the chocolatey goodness have me matching her moan.

“Ohmygoodness,” she mumbles in one long word, eyes rolling in the back of her head. “If the rest is as good as that,” she points to the cheesecake, “I’m definitely not getting back into those jeans.”

I bark out a laugh. I could comment on how sexy she is. Tell her she doesn’t need to even consider losing an ounce of weight and make sure she knows that her ass is what dreams are made of and celebrities pay good money for, but I keep my mouth shut. For now.

I may not understand what compelled me to invite her out tonight, but I do understand that I’m not looking for a relationship. She might be gorgeous and intriguing but she’s also sad and not in a great place. And me, well, relationships and I aren’t friends. But friendship with Chloe? Well, that I could get on board with. So I’ll keep my opinions about her appearances to myself.

“Good, huh?” I say, digging in for my own bite of cheesecake.

“So good. And I don’t even like cheesecake!” she laughs.

“Feeling better?”

“Not yet. I think I need to keep eating,” she says, popping a brownie into her mouth.

As she’s chewing The Cookie and apple fritters are brought over to our table. Chloe’s eyes widen and light up as she takes in the cookie that looks like it’s big enough to feed six people.

“Holy crap.”

“Just wait.” I rub my hands together and sit up in my chair. The Cookie is a giant chocolate chip cookie with chunks of Reese’s peanut butter cups baked in. It’s served warm in a small cast iron skillet topped with a scoop each of vanilla and peanut butter ice cream. And if that wasn’t enough, chopped peanuts, more Reese’s, and drizzles of hot fudge cover the deliciousness.

The rest of the desserts don’t even matter as we pick up our spoons and dive in.

“You said you’re a hair stylist?”

She nods as she chews, swallows and sips her tea. “Yup. My mom was, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I basically grew up in a salon. Mom was a single parent and instead of having baby sitters or going to daycare when I wasn’t in school, I spent my time at Mom’s salon, watching women get their hair colored and cut. I’d draw and play with my dolls, Mom would set me up with my own chair and I’d pretend to be doing whatever she was doing.”

“So you and your mom are close, huh?”

She takes another bite of cookie and the sadness I’ve seen in her eyes magnifies. “Yes, we were. She passed away, though.”

“Oh shit.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you. She fought hard but the cancer was too much for her body and eventually it took over.”

Silence descends on the table. It’s slightly awkward, neither of us knowing what to say next. I lift an apple fritter off the plate and dip it into the caramel sauce then eat it, staring at the food in front of me. I’m not good in situations like this. The few times I’ve been to funerals, I always say something damn near inappropriate.

I continue shoveling food into my mouth until I hear her soft laughter. “Rex, it’s okay.”

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