Page 25 of Ripped & Shipped
“I was meeting someone.”
“A date?”
She tenses. Her lips draw into a thin line. She looks at me out of the side of her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest.
“Not a date. A work meeting.”
I lean back, extending my arms out to each side of myself on the back of the booth. It’s a posture that leaves me intentionally wide open. If we were in combat, I’d be simultaneously acknowledging my capacity to hold my own, while also indicating a clear surrender.
I’m not here to fight.
“What happened?”
“He had to cancel.”
“So, why’d you stick around?”
I gesture around the room with one hand and then bring it back to rest on the back of the booth. Ella Mae studies my arm muscles. Gotta love how unabashed she is about objectifying me. I huff out a light chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“You looking me over like I’m a cow up for auction.”
“More like a bull,” she says, regaining some of the color in her cheeks. She wags her eyebrows playfully. That’s the Ella Mae I know.
“So, he canceled, and you stayed here?”
She sighs, looks down into her lap, and when her eyes meet mine, there’s almost this silent plea in them.
“Truce?”
“With me?” I ask.
“For tonight only.”
“I wasn’t aware we were at war,” I say.
“Talk about bull, St. James. You’re smarter than that. It’s full-on war between us, Soldier. And you know it. I just need one of those nights when everyone lays down their weapons, comes out of the foxholes, and sings Christmas carols together. You know?”
“The Christmas Truce of 1914?”
“Yeah. That.”
I shake my head in amazement. Just as I suspected, there’s more to her beneath the surface than she lets on.
“Cease fire,” I agree.
“Truce.”
“So …” I ask, hoping she’s going to tell me everything now that we’ve agreed to lay down our invisible weapons.
Shawna steps up to the booth right then. It’s this gift most seasoned wait staff have. They can sense when your mouth is overly full, or you’re about to confess your undying love to the woman you’re out to dinner with, and right then, they approach the table. It’s like impeccable timing, but in reverse.
“Do you want to order?” Shawna asks me, looking at Ella Mae and then me, and back to Ella Mae with a questioning expression on her face.
“The usual,” I tell Shawna.
“Have you decided what you’d like?” she asks Ella Mae.
