Page 25 of Flirty Thirty

“I’m never sure of anything,” he says as he sits, the rustle of his pants drawing my attention to his legs, his upper thighs, his crotch. I blink myself back up to his face before he calls me out on it, because heaven knows that he would. “I live on a hope and a prayer.”

“I wouldn’t even know what that looks like,” I admit. I have dreams and hopes, but they’re always grounded in reality.

He gives me a look that tells me that he’s more interested in that comment than he’s letting on, but he’s keeping his thoughts to himself for once. My teeth slide over my bottom lip, and I reach for the lid to my dish.

“Hang on,” he says, putting a hand on top of the sterling silver. “Sea food or beef?”

“What if I’m a vegetarian?”

“Considering you downed bacon strips in under a minute and inhaled a slice of meat lover’s, I ruled a vegetarian dish out.”

“I love how you describe how I eat,” I say, trying to hide my self-consciousness over the fact that he’s one hundred percent right. “Maybe I’ll bulldoze through this meal, too.”

“Please do,” he says on a sigh. “It’s sexy as hell.”

A snort billows from my nose, and I push his hand off the lid. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me,” I say, lifting it up from the plate. Steam rises up from the beautifully cooked lobster, a bed of broccoli and rice as a side, and of course, melted butter to dip. He definitely ordered out, and he ordered out nicely.

“Not trading,” I tell him through a mouthful of drool.

“Good.” He laughs and lifts his own lid, a juicy, thick burger in front of him, a side of fries and dipping sauce to the side. I tilt an eyebrow, curious over the two choices.

“Is there a reason we aren’t eating the same thing?”

“Yes.” His eyebrows waggle as he hands me a lobster bib. “I’m running an experiment.”

“Do I get to know the details?”

“No,” he says with a grin. “But I’ll let you know the results. So far, they’re going pretty well.”

Well, no better way to put pressure on me while I eat. I’m about to tell him that, but he redirects my mind when he pulls out a couple of beers and pops the tops. I’m not much of a beer drinker, but I take it anyway. Maybe if I pass whatever experiment he’s doing, he’ll pop open that champagne.

“You want the bubbly, don’t you?” he asks, and I widen my eyes and shake my head.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie.”

I guess I can’t with him. Maybe I’m an open book, too.

My shoulders fall and I pick up my glass flute and stick it out, offering up a cheesy grin. He laughs and pushes up to his knees. I get the best view of his ass, the ice in the bucket shifting as he pulls out the champagne bottle. I tie my bib around my neck and get ready to chomp down on my food.

“Question…” I say around my first delectable bite. “Why in the hell do you want to move? This place seems pretty perfect for you already.”

He shakes his head, tipping the flute so the champagne doesn’t stain the blanket. “Oh this isn’t mine. A buddy is letting me crash at his place while he’s on vacation.”

“Are all your buddies billionaires?” I ask, taking the drink from him and watching as he digs into his own food.

“Just this one. And my brother.”

I get a round of flutters at the fact that he considers his brother his buddy. “Is that why you don’t act like the typical…” My thumb goes to the tip of my nose and I push it high in the air to imitate the snob nob people I usually encounter when selling high-dollar homes. Cooper snorts his beer right through his nose. He coughs and sputters, grappling for a napkin while he tries to compose himself.

“You’re gonna kill me before dessert,” he says, his voice strained before he takes another sip of beer that goes down the right pipe. I giggle and take my tenth or so bite of lobster and fifth scoop of rice. Wow… maybe I do need to slow down. Cooper hasn’t even touched his fries yet, and if he doesn’t hurry, I’ll find my way over to those, too.

He clears his throat, and he blows out a breath, his composure back now. “I wish I had a good answer for ya,” he says, plucking up a fry and swirling it in the sauce. “Maybe because I know how lucky I am. Or maybe because I know numbers and I know if I’m not careful, I could lose everything. Or maybe because I have to keep working for it every day.” He pauses for a second, his eyes playfully teasing me. I rub at my chin, butter running down my finger as I swipe it away. “Or maybe I’m just awesome.”

“Thathasto be it.” I grab a napkin and try to clean myself up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me; I am a first date expert. I’ve gone out for food hundreds of times and managed to not stuff myself or go to fast, but with Cooper… he makes it so easy to let loose.

“I have a question for you now,” he says, his eyes carefully placed on my butter-covered lobster bib before he brings them up to me.

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