Page 27 of Handsome
He offered me coffee or tea, and I shook my head as he said, “She left for college and never came back.”
My skin was jumpy, but I liked it as I asked, “The tea looks delicious. Is that the same as last night?”
“Yes,” he said, and offered it again.
This time I nodded, but asked, “Why's it in a glass mug?”
He poured almost better than I did when wielding a coffee pot at the diner while he said, “So you can judge the color and our hosting skills.”
I shrugged while enjoyed the tea's complex fragrances again. The earthy smell was sweet and not overwhelming as I said, “Well, your hosting skills must be excellent, because it’s not in a bagandit smells wonderful.”
He picked up his fork, still perfectly natural while holding his son as he said, “Of course. And eat as much as you can so you'll have enough energy on the yacht.”
I took a few bites, and everything was delicious. He gulped his tea hot, but I stuck to the food. This wasn't oily at all, and I’ve had my share of oily eggs. Once I finished, I sat back and said, “I’ve never been sailing before.”
Then I picked up my tea. It was almost the right temperature to drink. After one quick sip, I realized it was as delicious as it smelled, and not like the bags at the diner at all.
He said, “We’re not sailing exactly, though we might for part of the journey, depending on the winds.”
I finished my tea and closed my eyes.
His voice was just as savory as the tea when he asked, “Are you ready?”
I poured myself a second glass and said, “Almost. This is yummy and warm, and I need to finish this.”
He laughed and pushed his glass closer to me. I put more tea in his cup too while he said, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You seem calm today.”
He looked serene. I wished I could be as calm as he was about everything. He quickly downed the piping hot drink like it was expresso while I gazed into the earthy, warm, reddish-brown drink as I said, “I've been thinking a lot about you and your life since last night.”
“Good or bad?” he asked.
Heat rushed through me. I set down my tea, turned in my chair to face him, and asked, “Is there anything bad to know about you, other than you're too serious?”
“I’ve been accused of being predictable.”
Another good quality. Sure, I've always heard bad boys are more fun, but honestly, my experience was that trouble only ever led to more trouble. I picked up my glass and said, “So no, you’re basically good-looking and perfect.”
I was in the middle of another sip of the hot tea when he said, “Exactly. So you should marry me, and then we’ll be happy forever.”
I almost dropped the hot tea in my lap.Marry?
But as soon as I saw that cute smile of his, I relaxed. He was joking.
I’d fantasize about it later, but I folded my hands on my lap and said, “A few big problems with that theory.”
He leaned closer, and the world disappeared the way it always did when he was near, as he asked, “What are they?”
“You didn’t ask me,” I said with full confidence and then took another sip of my tea. It was still good. Once I was done, I said, “And I’m happy you’re not being serious. I’m still trying to figure out what I really want in life and marrying you would confuse the… beep out of that process.”
“Beep. You said beep?” He snickered and slapped his knee.
I rolled my eyes but couldn't seem to stifle a grin. “You’re fancy, so I shouldn’t swear, but yeah, I’ve been thinking about my life and what I want, which is odd, because I never used to imagine anything.”
I finished my tea and then gestured that we should go.
He nodded, stood, and asked, “So did you figure out what you want?”
We walked together while I took one last look at the garden behind us as I said, “I’d like a slice of what you have.”
