Page 58 of Falling Overboard

She’d let me into her bed. In a platonic, harmless way that had nothing to do with French phrasing.

But before she could answer, the waiter returned to ask if we had any questions about the menu. I internally cursed at him for interrupting us. “We haven’t really had a chance to look at it yet.”

The waiter gave us an imperious, annoyed look and said he’d return.

“Let’s hurry up and choose,” she suggested. She didn’t like to rock the boat and it didn’t surprise me that she didn’t want the waiter to be annoyed with her. I wanted to explain to her that his reaction was alsovery French but instead looked for something to eat. Maybe I could sublimate my desire with food.

When the waiter came a third time, she ordered the crepes and I got the same thing. Because I wanted to taste whatever it was that she was putting into her mouth and I recognized this was a very strange desire and so stayed quiet.

“Copying me again?” she teased as we handed our menus back to the waiter.

“I’d already decided on it after all your talk about sugar and chocolate this morning.” If she wanted to put herself on the menu, I’d much rather order her. I guessed she would be even sweeter.

“Do you speak any foreign languages?” she asked.

How could I explain what I knew without sounding like a total dirtbag? “Just some phrases in a few different ones. Like ‘where is the club’ and whether a woman wants to ...”

French phrase me.

Her cheeks colored slightly, another interesting reaction. “What kind of women do you date?”

Hope bloomed in my chest. There could only be one reason for her to ask me that question. I considered being honest with her and just telling her that I was attracted to her.

But she seemed so skittish, so scared. I didn’t want to push things, so I did what I always did when I was uncomfortable. I made a joke. “It depends. I have very Pacific taste.”

She let out a small groan and I laughed.

“What about you?” I asked, even though I knew I shouldn’t. “What kind of men do you date?”

“Cheating jerks, mostly,” she said with a shake of her head.

“That sounds like there’s a story there.”

“Not a very interesting one. The story is both of the men I dated for a few months cheated on me. The last one, Robb, with twoBs by the way, which should have been a giant red flag, ended our relationship by impregnating my best friend. That was the last time I’d had a panicattack. It’s the other reason why I got into yachting. I needed to escape my hometown.”

This poor woman. “That must have been hard, to lose your boyfriend and your best friend at the exact same time.”

I saw tears well up in her eyes and it took everything in me not to shove this tiny table aside and hold her close. When she cried it tore me apart. I wanted to make everything okay for her.

“It wasn’t fun,” she said, and I could see how she was fighting to keep it together. “I’ve given up on dating. I’m tired of being hurt, tired of being cheated on, tired of losing people I love. I’m just going to concentrate on my sisters and my bakery and not worry about romantic things.”

I would never do that to you.

The words popped into my head and I wanted to say them to her.

Before I could, the waiter returned with a basket of croissants. He set it down and she grabbed one. “Do you know how much I love bread?”

Had she sensed what I was about to say? It felt like she was trying to lighten the mood and so I played along. “As much as you love pasta?”

“Hmm. If I’m in a relationship with pasta, then bread is my mistress.”

I laughed and got my own croissant. I took a bite and might have moaned slightly. I tried to stay away from carbs but this had me rethinking things. “You’re right. These are amazing.”

“Stick with me. I’ll never steer you wrong.”

I grinned. “Another nautical pun, Lucky Salerno. I’m so glad I’m being a good influence on you.” I knew I should keep things light and easy but I still had unanswered questions. “Earlier you mentioned your mom being in debt. Can I ask what happened?”

If my abrupt subject change surprised her, she didn’t show it. “I told you how my dad and nonno died right after my twin sisters were born. My dad didn’t have a life insurance policy because he didn’t see the need for one, given that he was so young. My mom was raised in foster careand didn’t have any family. She worked to support us, with my nonna helping. A year after my dad died, she met my stepdad.”

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