Page 34 of Henhouse
Theo smirked at Effie. “How fitting.”
To his surprise, she snorted. “I am no queen.”
Instead of pushing, insisting that she must not have a very good mirror, he joked, “Tell that to your impeccable posture and the dainty way you’re tying your sachets.”
“Well, if it’s strictly a matter of poise, maybe I’ll concede. Queen Effie at your service.” She curtsied, pulling out the sides of her gorgeous dress. It was cute as hell and Theo let his admiration flood his face. That phenomenal shade of pink rose to her cheeks again before she perfectly tied another sachet of her tea together.
Victoria gave them each a little box for the tea bags they’d blendedbefore she cleaned up the canisters and replaced the scale on the back counter. “Have a seat, I’ll bring you each a pot of hot water.”
Theo escorted Effie to the small side table. He was grateful that Victoria let him decorate the back room with warm lighting so they could relax and enjoy their tea without the sting of the fluorescents overhead.
In the amber glow, Effie looked like a dream. Not just beautiful, but warm and magnetic in a way that drew him toward her body and soul.
She settled into the seat he held out for her then folded the cloth napkin into her lap. He sat across from her and actually felt comfortable in their quiet. Victoria arrived with their hot water and excused herself, reminding Theo to lock up when they left.
Then there was nothing but Effie and the clink of porcelain as she lifted the lid on her pot. The hush of paper against cardboard as she pulled a Darjeeling sachet from the box. A subtle plunk of the water as she dunked it. Sienna stains swirled from the tea as it seeped into the water, but his eyes were consumed with the curve of Effie’s nose, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, her utter and complete focus on the ritual before her. Many of his other first dates buzzed with impatience and noise, while Effie brought an unhurried curiosity that felt lost in time.
“You’re staring,” she whispered without meeting his gaze.
“Sorry,” he said and went to work brewing his own pot. He picked the white tea with pineapple.
“Don’t be. Now we’re even.”
Theo looked up and her grin was just shy of devilish. “Did I do alright? How’s this date ranking for you so far?”
“Top of the list,” Effie asserted, and he believed her. “I’m curious how you came up with the idea.”
“Between the electric kettle you had hidden behind the register, the teacup drawing at stained glass night, and the tote I ruined, I kind of guessed you liked tea. I figured you might enjoy blending your own.”
“How observant of you.”
“I do my best.” Theo winked, which had her rolling her eyes. He was happy to see she’d relaxed a bit since she climbed into the Jeep. Thankfully, he had too. First date nerves were par for the course, but this easeful banter was better. It took every ounce of his restraint not to pepper her with questions, peel back the layers, uncover what caused the palpable ache that echoed behind her. “You don’t say much,” he observed.
Effie wrinkled her nose as though embarrassed. “Sorry,” she sighed. “If I don’t know what to say I try not to babble.”
Theo hoped that wasn’t for fear of judgment. “You can babble at me all you like,” he assured her. He took her hand from across the table and drew lazy circles on the back of her palm with his thumb. It was a habit of his. Though many found it too intimate a touch for a first date, Theo never had. Effie didn’t seem to mind either, since she didn’t pull away.
“It’s not that . . . it’s just. Babbling is dangerous for my palate. Following an errant train of thought usually results in some pretty sour, salty words.”
As if in evidence of that very notion she scraped her tongue on her teeth. Presumably to get rid of the sour and salt.
“That must be challenging.” Theo sighed. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it. Having to monitor his mind and his mouth so he didn’t encounter too much unpleasantness. “You could just say myname on repeat. That’d be okay by me.”
The laugh that tumbled from her was a bubbly glass of champagne.
“Theo, Theo, Theo,” she drawled. The singular thought of hearing her say it as she came consumed him. “What do I have to do to make you forget I ever confessed how sweet your name tastes?”
“I will never forget.”
“Oh fine,” she said, the hint of a pout on her lips before she took a bite of a cucumber and cream cheese sandwich. “That’s delicious.”
“Made them myself,” Theo boasted. He noticed the buzz of the refrigerator in back and the silence around them. “Let me put on some music.”
Effie nearly leaped from her chair. “No, don’t!”
Theo cocked his head to the side, utterly confused.
“This is why I’ve only ever been on first dates,” she growled and rubbed her hands over her face, the poise cracking ever so slightly.
