“Not to sound snobby—”
With an easy smirk and a small shake of his head, he adds, “I get the feeling you don’t care about that at all.”
Biting my lip to fight my growing smile, I shrug lightly. “I don’t like the termfoodie. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it and I don’t care if someone calls themselves that. However, with my education and experience, it feels kind of belittling.”
Liam sits up straighter, a seriousness veiling his expression. This is the moment where my date usually gets uncomfortable with how outspoken I am, or he becomes defensive with me setting a very simple boundary. I wait with a blank expression, wanting to see Liam’s reaction before making a decision for the rest of my night’s plans.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to devalue your work. I only meant that it was clear you were knowledgeable about thepalates and pairings the last time we had a drink together. Then, I didn’t know what your job was though.”
Slightly shocked by his quick accountability, I relax and take a sip of my wine. “It’s fine. Even in the culinary world, bakers aren’t always taken very seriously. It’s a habit, I guess.”
“I’ve always heard baking was harder than cooking. So, that seems stupid.”
That finally gets a chuckle out of me. “I don’t know about ‘harder,’ but there’s less room for error, that’s true. And it takes an artistic design that most chefs don’tneedfor their dishes.”
He nods in understanding. “It’s not quite the same, but landscape architects don’t always get treated the same, especially by bigger development firms. That was my first internship, and it made it almost impossible to find a job in a different specialty. Eventually, my old boss saw the potential in it—especially because of the ecological knowledge I gained.”
“Wow,” I muse, drawn in by the crumbles of his life. “It sounds like you’ve worked with a lot of corporate companies. Now you’rehere, taking over a small business in a small beach town. Why?”
He squints. “I’ve never understood that. You live inSan Diego. It’s not a small town by any means, yet the locals have referred to it as such for as long as I can remember visiting. Why?”
“Maybe it’s a community, not a town. I don’t fucking know. I’ve never thought about it before, Einstein,” I playfully spat. He tips his head back and laughs. It’s that deep, gravelly rumble I remember.
“I’m surprised no one’s ever asked about it before. That’s all.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say.
“It’s always been the plan.”
Now it’s my turn to squint, but our appetizer arrives and the ceviche looks even better than the picture I saw through social media. I don’t ask any further questions, choosing food as a distraction from my increasing curiosity of the man in front of me.
Liam
A step behind her, I follow Calypso out of the restaurant. She’s even more gorgeous than I remembered. Her light, sun-kissed skin is more tan than it was in the spring. Her warm, honey-brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair are exactly as my memories captured her. The long, toned legs she seems to enjoy teasing in skirts are something I’d never be able to forget, too—especially when she pushed me to my knees in front of her and wrapped one around my shoulder.
Even that night at the bar, I thought she very well might have been the most gorgeous woman to ever walk this Earth. But seeing her again? There’s this glow around her that is magnetizing.
More than any of that, she’s one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. From the moment she scoffed at my order and we made eye contact, it was clear that both of our plans for the night changed.
When she isn’t trying to charm me out of my pants, there’s a new side of her. One that is passionate, outspoken, and maybe a little bossy.
“Well,” Calypso starts slowly, stopping under the streetlight across from the lot I parked in. “Thanks for tonight. It was… not what I expected.”
Smiling, I slip my hands in my pockets. “Better than anything I could have anticipated.”
A small, teasing smirk tugs at her lips as her eyes give me one quick, but very appreciative, once-over. “Guess it’s the second time I’ve turned your night around then.”
Licking my lips, I nod softly in confirmation. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if she wants to enjoy more than dinner together, but something stops me. I don’t know if it’s from my hesitation or her knowing where my mind is going, but she takes a small step backward.
“I’ll see you around.” It’s not a question, but there’s a sense of reluctance in her tone. Calypso bends an arm behind her back, holding her other elbow, and sways gently with the breeze.
“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”
Bobbing her head, she watches me for another minute as a flicker of disappointment reaches her expression. “Bye, then.”
Before she can get any further, I take a step forward until our chests are inches from each other. Her breath quickens for a moment.
When I reach an arm out, she doesn’t stop me. If anything, she watches the movement with open curiosity. Slowly—approaching her like I would a spooked animal—I wrap my hand around her waist and gently tug her a little closer. Her hand falls to my chest, and it’s a position that becomes immediately familiar to one we’ve been in before. Last time against my hotel door.
