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“Sorry,” I mouthed, and he pointed to the menu with a smile. He was very sweet and didn’t seem to mind being given the task to watch over me this evening. It was odd having someone always there, but at the same time, given what I had gone through back in Washington, I felt like I could really relax a little.
I scanned the restaurant and watched a mother try to feed her baby boy mashed potatoes, but every time they went in, they came right back out again. Her husband laughed and handed him a dinner roll, and that seemed to please him. She smiled, and they went back to eating. I loved that they worked as a team.
“I bet you thought I stood you up.” A skinny man dressed in yoga pants and a tank top that had a ring of sweat around the collar and armpits dropped a hemp bag at my feet. “Ivy, right?”
“Patrick?” Okay… I stood to greet him.
“That would be me.” He wiped his hand on his shirt then thrust it forward for a shake. “Sorry for my outfit. I had to step in for my co-worker at the last minute, and well, if I went home, I bet you would’ve left.” He pulled his eighties sweatband off his forehead and shook out his shaggy, wild hair. He could have called, too, but here we were. “I can take a quick run back to my place and change, if you don’t mind waiting.”
“No problem. That won’t be necessary.” I tried not to wipe my hand from his clammy handshake. “Please take a—” He sat down, broke off a piece of bread, and shoved it into his mouth. “Seat.” Just as I was about to sit back down myself, I locked eyes with Ty across the room. He sat at a table of people with a woman at his side. Why of all places was he here tonight? I hadn’t realized they’d be back so soon. The woman pulled his attention just as Patrick spoke up to draw my attention back to him.
“I have a love affair with carbs.” He smiled with an open mouth. The bread rolled around his tongue while I slowly slid down into my seat and dragged a napkin over my lap. I wasn’t a prude at the dinner table, but, come on, first date impressions were everything.
I took a quick glance at Quinn, who tried everything to hide his grin. I was thankful it was him and not Mark who was with me tonight. Though now I wished I had listened to Mark’s warning teases.
“So, Patrick, why don’t you tell me—”
“About myself?” He grinned. “I have a knack for finishing people’s sentences,” he bragged.
“That’s quite the gift,” I muttered and downed a little more wine. I spotted Ty staring at me through the crowd. God, even his stare was sexy. My skin heated just knowing his eyes were on me.
Focus.
“Well, I’ve been a yoga instructor for nearly five years, and before that, I was a busker. I played everything from the spoons to the washboard, and before that, I was cardio instructor at a gym.”
“I see.” I eyed the bread and wondered if any of his shaggy hair had gotten in it.
“I know what you’re thinking, but no, I’m not a gym rat like some of those Army guys in town. My muscles are all natural.”
Muscles?
“Shall we—”
“Order?” He grinned again, and I sighed inwardly. I hated that he did that. I found my gaze once again moving away from him and over to Ty, whose eyes found me again. “Yes, but I have to say this wouldn’t be the place I’d have chosen to eat.” I glanced at Patrick as I replayed his words in my head. He turned up his nose at the menu, and I scowled at him. Zack’s was impressive and seemed to be the busiest place in town. “I like the salad bar down the road more. I mean, meat is murder, and don’t get me started on how he prepares his potato balls.”
“Well, why don’t you start with a drink?” I was going to kill Savannah.
“I don’t drink.” He eyed my glass. “Do you know what that does to your liver?”
“Nope, but I know what it does for my tolerance.” I downed the rest as the waiter approached.
“Hi there. I hope your evening is going well.” He smiled at us. “I’m Adam, and I’ll be your waiter this evening. What can I—”
“Get us?” Patrick cut him off, and my eyes bugged out at how rude he sounded. “The menu is limited, so I’ll have to go with the kale salad, and double wash the lettuce. I like the tomatoes julienned, the cucumbers diced not sliced, and the dressing on the side, not on top like last time.” He held the menu in the air, and I just about died.
“Of course.” Adam remained professional, but I could see this wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with Patrick. “And for you, miss?”
“I’ll have the slow-roasted chicken with the garden salad on the side, please. Oh, and another one of these, perhaps larger.” I smiled and held up my glass.
“Not a problem.” He smirked, leaving me with the worst date I’d ever had.
“I must like you, because normally I’d never stick around and watch someone eat something that was alive last week.” He laughed at his own comment.
Lucky me.
I reached for the glass of wine that Adam quickly returned with and smiled my thanks. It was filled to the brim. I took a long drink.
The couple next to us left. They held hands and smiled as they walked to the door, and I was suddenly envious of them. They got to leave. Their table was cleaned and reset in a flash, and someone else sat down next to us.
