Page 58 of You Chive Me Crazy
“We have been coming here for twelve years,” Jeremy said with a wistful smile. “She loved it here. In fact, this is where we met.”
“I remember that day like it was yesterday,” Betsy said, a whimsical grin spreading across her face. “Jeremy and Meredith were sitting right there where Zoe and Lucas are. And it’s funny, because they butted heads when they met, just like you two.”
“What can I do if he’s a little stubborn?” I said.
“Stubbornness is only a character flaw when you are wrong,” Lucas said with a grin.
Jeremy laughed, which was wonderful to see. “You’re right, Betsy, they remind me of the two of us when we were younger. A lot. And Meredith used to come up with the craziest ideas for TV shows. One time, she said we should stick ten chefs on a deserted island and let them try to cook gourmet meals from whatever they could find, likeSurvivor, but with chefs. She wanted to call itFeast or Famine.” He chuckled and nodded. “Good times . . .”
“You must get many people who want to pitch their ideas to you for new TV shows,” I said. “Just like directors and producers in Hollywood who get bombarded by movie scripts, I would imagine.”
Jeremy nodded. “All the time. I get emails, letters, people coming up to me while I’m out eating at a restaurant. It really is difficult to come up with an original idea that hasn’t been done already, but we keep brainstorming and hoping. In fact, brainstorming is something that I quite enjoy, and helps keep my mind busy, which is a good thing these days.”
“Then it’s settled,” Marty said. “We’re going to come up with your next big TV show. And who knows? Maybe a food critic will be involved.”
“Or a hiccupping chef,” Hank said, grinning.
As everyone at the table finished up the pizza, the talk turned to the food festival. I leaned closer to Lucas, eager to share an observation with him.
“Did you notice how suspiciously quiet Damian is? That is a big-time red flag,” I whispered, accidentally bumping my nose into his ear.
Lucas glanced across the table at Damian and nodded, then leaned back toward me, practically making me jump when his nose touched my ear.
Was that retaliation?
Did he think I bumped his ear on purpose?
“Too quiet. I don’t trust him,” he whispered back, then in what I can only call a bold move, he brushed his lips across my ear.
Okay, that definitely was not an accident.
Lucas was flirting with me.
Again.
Unless he was trying to get a reaction out of me.
Game on.
I leaned back toward Lucas this time, letting my hair fall forward, then placed my hand on the top of his leg, pretending I needed it for support. “What do you think he’s up to?” I moved my hand up a little bit for good measure.
Lucas swallowed hard, both of his brows shooting up.
Take that!
He leaned closer again, almost as if he was ready to one-up me, then put his arm on the back of my chair. His fingers grazed the back of my neck, as he moved the hair away from my face, enough to send tingles shooting through my body.
Okay, things were going to get out of hand if we continued like this. What in the heck was going on between the two of us? Was this a game of chicken?
My hand was still on his leg.
His hand was on my neck.
Neither one of us was pulling away.
I couldn’t blame it on the alcohol, because I had had none!
As Lucas leaned in closer again, his breath hot against my ear, my mind almost went blank, as he whispered, “I forgot what you asked me.”
