Page 86 of Let's Get Textual

“Naturally. Do you even eat unless I’m feeding you?”

I fold the menu closed and lay it off to the side. “Not food like this. This is exotic cuisine.”

“It’s ranch dressing.”

“Twenty-sevendifferent flavors of ranch dressing! You can’t expect me to not eat all the things.”

“Fair point.”

“But…do you want to split? Because I honestly can’t eat all that food.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, we can split, but we’re getting fried green beans too.”

“I’m sorry, you want to do what to my green beans?”

“Shush and enjoy the experience.”

Our waiter finally comes around and we place our drink and food orders at the same time. It doesn’t take long before he’s bringing our beverages back out to us.

Relaxing back in our chairs, we sip our drinks and watch the fire roar.

“It’s nice out here, quiet. You’d think they’d have music playing through the speakers or something.”

“I’m sure they do on summer nights. I bet the patio isn’t popular in November.”

We go back to silence. The crackling of wood, the occasional call of a bird, and the soft lap of waves on the lake is all we can hear.

The sun is about to set, and a few stars are poking through the sky.

“Sometimes I wish I could live under the stars,” I confess.

“Why is that?”

“They’re calming, peaceful. They lull you to sleep. I don’t worry when I peer into the vastness of the night sky. I feel so small in this universe for one split second. It’s grounding.”

“You’re not small, Delia, not even when you study the stars. Trust me.”

I glance his way, loving the way his head is thrown back as he watches the sky above, the way his throat moves when he swallows.

“Are you trying to say something sweet, Zach?”

He grins, and even from here I know his dimple is making an appearance. “I’m just saying you shine a whole hell of a lot brighter than you think you do, at least to me. You’re different—the good kind of different.”

Our waiter sneaks our way with the food, but Zach doesn’t notice. I hold my hand up to stop him from coming closer, wanting to hear what else Zach has to say.

“You’re funny, and sarcastic, and that ass of yours could distract an entire room.”

A trickle of laughter falls out of me as I glance to the waiter, whose mouth is hanging open.

“I’m just saying, when you did that sexy striptease last—”

“Zach, stop.”

“No way. When you did that sexy striptease the other night, I was sitting on your bed thinking of all the ways I’d like to bend you—ow! What the hell was that for!”

He sits up, shooting daggers my way before finally realizing we have a guest.

I sit there, trying with everything I have not to slide down in my seat until I’m hiding under the table. I didn’t think that was the direction he was going in at all.

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