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Because she was her, it was endearing instead.
He wasn’t sure what to think about that.
She glanced up at him through her dark, thick lashes, and gave him a half smile. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long. It’s just really hard for me to decide, you know?”
“Take your time. I’m in no rush.” Though they would be missing their show. Not a huge deal, but he’d scored box seats, and now they’d go to waste. He didn’t like wasting things. If it wouldn’t be rude, he’d pull his phone out and forward the tickets to his sister and Brett. They lived in the city, too, and could easily use them. “The duck is delicious.”
“I haven’t gotten that far.” She glanced up at him, setting the menu on the table. “I’m still deciding on my first course. There are so many options.”
He glanced down at the menu. There were seven. “I hear the lobster is delectable, too.”
She flinched. “Too fishy.”
“The cavatelli?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Too carby.”
“Uh…” He laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was a miracle he’d gotten her to walk out the door with him, at this rate. Hell, he almost hadn’t. “The farm salad?”
“Too—”
“Eggy?” he supplied.
Her cheeks heated, turning a bewitching shade of pink, and she fidgeted with the menu. “I’m sorry. I’m being annoying. If you want, we can call this whole thing off and—”
“You’re not being annoying at all.” He laid his hand over hers on the table, squeezing it. “I already told you, I’d wait all night for you, if need be. Take your time.”
She stared at him.
Just stared.
After a while, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and let go of her hand. “What is it now?”
“Do you say that to all the girls? That you’ll wait all night?”
“No.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Honestly, if you were any other girl, I’d be out of here.”
She picked her menu up again. “Why stay, then?”
“Why not?” he countered.
Frowning at her menu, she stared at it some more, not answering him. He settled in for a longer wait, getting comfortable.
She shot him another look over the top of her menu.
The waiter brought their drinks, setting them down. As he bowed, he looked at Shelby, who was clearly still deciding, and walked away. His shoulders were stiff.
It had been thirty minutes, and all he’d gotten was their drink order.
Eric made a mental note to double the tip for the evening.
“I think I’ll start with the…the potato.” She smiled and set the menu down. “You?”
“Crab.” And then the duck, feta, and caramel apple soufflé. “It’s great.”
“As in, you’ve had it?”
“Once or twice, sure,” he answered.
