Page 55 of Landing Her Eagle
She laughs. “If I stood around waiting for someone to open a door for me, I’d get nowhere.” She tugs me further inside.
She’s not wrong. I’ll have to find other ways to take care of her. Looking forward to it. We sit at a table and, after reading the menu, decide we each want the Irish stew and a pint of Guinness.
Laughing, I share that I had gone years without eating stew and now it seems to be a meal I eat all the time. First at Uncle Will and Aunt Faith’s, then with Mari’s family, and now today with her.
“I know!” she exclaims. “Maybe it’s a trend or the time of year because it seems like it is everywhere. Is stew the new chili?”
“Here you go,” our server says in accented English as he places our bowls of stew and a basket of hearty bread on our table. “Do you need anything else?”
“We’re good, thank you,” I reply.
“Merci.” Daphne smiles up at him. I swear he melts a little. It’s the Daphne Effect. She has a way of charming people, and she’s unaware of it. It’s another item on the miles-long list of things I love and appreciate about her.
“Oh my goodness, this is delicious!” Daphne appears to be near rapture with her first spoonful of stew. The rich scent of lamb, carrots, onions, and potatoes has my mouth watering. Paired with the Guinness, it almost feels like we are sitting in a pub in Ireland. I can’t wait to take her there for the authentic experience.
“We need to do a taste test,” I say, “and compare this stew with actual Irish stew eaten in a pub on Irish soil.” I reach out and grasp her hand resting on the table. “There are so many places I want to show you and fresh places I want to explore for the first time with you. I hope this week is the first of many adventures together.” I lift her hand to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles and then lower it back to the table before picking up my spoon and taking my next taste of the stew.
“I would love to go to Ireland with you, Logan. I want to go everywhere with you.” She smiles at me across the table.
Those are the words I’ve waited years to hear from Daphne. But does she really mean them? I’ve made peace with not traveling as much and setting up a business to take advantage of what we have at home. I’m looking forward to implementing my idea. I think it’s something unique.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Daphne sips her Guinness and pushes away her bowl. “I want to eat all of this, but I’m going to fall into a food coma if I do. Can we come back here later in the week for another bowl? Now that I know what to expect, I can be sure to breakfast responsibly so there’s plenty of room, and we can walk after to help burn it off.”
“That sounds like a good plan, Daph. Are you sure you’re done?” I’m sopping up the last of my stew with a piece of bread.
“You’re totally going to scavenge my leftovers, aren’t you?” She doesn’t even sound surprised.
She shouldn’t be. I’ve done this to her many times. “There’s no point in letting this delicious food go to waste. Besides, I need to keep my strength up.” I waggle my brows.
She blushes a deep rose, and I love it. She goes seagull swooping in on my French fries all the time, so I don’t feel the least bit guilty switching our bowls to take her remaining stew and leaving my empty bowl in front of her.
“Anyway,” I add, “if we’re coming back here, we don’t want to insult the chef by not emptying our bowls. What if they decide we aren’t worthy and won’t serve us? I’m doing this for us, sunshine.”
With a grin, she says, “That’s you, Logan Morris, taking one for the team. What a hero.”
I polish off the remaining stew and pay the bill when the server presents it. It’s almost check-in time at the hotel, so we walk back at a leisurely pace.
I spy a pharmacy and lead us toward it. “Um, I need to run in here.” I can feel a slight flush heat my cheeks. I’m a twenty-six-year-old man that has been having sex for over a decade. Buying condoms is not an unfamiliar experience for me. I should not be blushing.
“Okay. For what?” Daphne asks, following me in.
Condom shopping is not a group activity, so I stop in front of the door. My face grows hotter. This is ridiculous. “I need to get a box of condoms.” My face must be scarlet.
“Why?”
Seriously, what’s with the questions? An older gentleman is approaching behind Daphne, so I clasp her elbow to lead her to the side.
“Because I don’t have any with me. I wasn’t having sex on this trip, so there was no reason to pack condoms. I’m hoping we’re sleeping together sometime soon, so I want to be prepared.” I break off when a mother with her young daughter exits the shop and glances over at us.
“Oh, that makes sense,” Daphne replies. “I brought a box with me though. I checked to see what you had in the dresser of your old room and bought a fresh box of the same kind. I hope you still like them. The box you had expired a couple of years ago.”
The older gentleman is now exiting the store.
“I got some lube too, just in case. I’m on the pill now and have been for a few weeks, so it should be effective, but I’d feel more comfortable if we use condoms, at least until after my next period.”
I don’t know why the thought of Daphne taking charge and buying condoms both turns me on and shocks me, but it does. Of course, we’re equally responsible for contraception, but I thought she’d be too shy to buy condoms. I felt a little awkward the first time I picked up tampons for her. It’s just so…personal.
“All righty, then,” I say, grasping her hand and leading us away from the shop.
