"Really?"
He was right. I always ordered a margarita on the rocks when I was out on a special occasion. I knew my habits, I was just surprised that Gideon noticed.
With a half smile, he turned back towards the waitress.
"She'll have a margarita on the rocks. No salt. And I'll have a--"
"He'll have a cranberry and soda with a slice of lime," I said, interrupting him.
As the waitress left, Gideon slowly wagged his finger at me.
"Now who's showing off?" he teased.
"I wasn't going to let you have all the fun."
"Oh, don't worry. I can guarantee you'll have fun later."
"And there you go again," I said with a laugh.
"You know what they say, you can't teach an old dog new tricks."
"I'm just glad you admitted to being a dog," I said.
We spent the rest of the evening joking around and talking like we always did. After our dinner plates were cleared, the waitress brought strawberry shortcake over with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.
"This is on the house," she said, "as well as the rest of your meal. My father owns this place, and he said you helped make his dream a reality. It's not much, but this is my way of saying thank you."
Before either of us could say anything, she walked away.
Gideon slipped his arm along the back of the booth behind me, then took a big spoonful of whipped cream and strawberries and held it up to me.
"You have to try this," he said. "It's such a simple dessert, but this place does something special to it."
I opened my mouth and tried to delicately taste what was being held out on the spoon to me, but it was hopeless. Gideon chuckled as he put the spoon down and picked up a linen napkin.
"You got a little something," he said as he pointed to his mouth. I grabbed my napkin and wiped my mouth, but he shook his head. "Here, let me help."
His napkin delicately touched my cheek before it slipped out of his hand. His fingers slipped into my hair as he leaned closer and his mouth closed over mine.
My breath caught in my throat as we kissed. Our lips tangled together until he nibbled on my bottom lip. When he hungrily moved to my neck, I knew I was done.
"Wait," I said, trying to bring myself back to reality. "I thought we were going to talk. Isn't that why we're here?"
He rested his head against my shoulder and let out a long sigh.
"Yes," he grumbled before sitting up. "I'll warn you that I can't be trusted right now. Any talking we'll be doing will be manned by the head that isn't usually involved in the thought department."
"And how is that any different than usual?" I teased.
He shook his head. "Seriously, Becca. You know everyone already thinks we've been dating, and I can't help but think that maybe they're right. Maybe we should be."
"But what about our friendship?"
"Don't you think that'll make us even more perfect together?" he asked. "We already know each other, we love each other as friends, why not add what's left?"
He moved in close to kiss me again, but I pushed him away.
"Wait, I can't think if you're that close," I said. "What do you want?"
