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Our waiter looked me over, but didn’t say anything even though his raised eyebrow told me he wasn’t sure about my choice.
“Gotta see IDs” he said, putting out his hand and wiggling his fingers.
I dug through my backpack again, feeling an odd deja vu.
“You, too,” he said to Owen, who looked put out.
“At what point do I get old enough that I’m very obviously not under twenty-one?” he joked, leaning to one side to retrieve his wallet and identification from his back pocket.
“Hey, for all I know you’re some kind of Benjamin Button, and I ain’t losing my job over not checkin’.”
“For the love of God, do I look old enough to be a fucking young Benjamin Button? He looked ancient in his teens.”
The waiter laughed, and I smiled while Owen rolled his eyes in amusement while our waiter checked our cards.
“Cool. Want an app?”
“Mozzarella sticks,” I blurted out, staring right at the app page of the menu, needing to do something that wasn’t a bloody replica of the man across from me.
“Motz sticks,” our waiter mumbled as he walked away.
“Tell me about your novel,” Owen said, sitting back in his seat.
I was just grateful to get off the subject of his ex-wife.
“Oh, it’s a regency novel,” I gushed. “Set in the Georgian Regency Era, it’s like…Jane Austin if she had multiple boyfriends.”
His eyebrow raised.
“Multiple boyfriends? Your heroine sounds like a busy woman.”
Why did I bring that up? Oh God…
“Uh, well, I mean, the men are all prim and proper, usually, and she’s…”
“Usually?” Owen looked far too amused.
“Like I said, skip over the steamy bits,”
Owen’s lips turned up at the corners and that dangerous smirk settled back in place as he leaned forward again.
“And like I said,” he basically whispered, “the fucking is the best part.”
There I went, glowing red like a freaking stop light.
Why?
Why couldn’t we seem to get off the sex topic? I wasn’t a sex obsessed woman, and neither was my professor, even by his own admission just moments ago. So what the heck?
“So your heroine has multiple partners, but what’s the story about? What’s the intrigue?”
Our waiter came back just in time to hear Owen’s comment. His brows perked up, but he didn’t say anything as he dropped the beer down on the table.
“Your appetizer will be out soon,” was all he stated before wandering away.
The crowd in the place was getting denser, but I didn’t care. My focus was entirely on the man across from me. Successful, confident, and incredibly attractive, how could I not stare?
“Oh, well, she’s not a girl from a wealthy home, but not poor either. Her father tries to marry her off to a viscount, but he’s old enough to be her dad.”
