Page 61 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“Except right now, you’re making me want to—”

“Make a trip to the closet private space to get me between your legs?” he asked with a smirk. “Because I only actually need to move my chair closer, Cara, to get that job done with one hand. The tablecloth hides what goes on beneath.”

“You are—”

“Are we ready for drinks?”

The sudden appearance of the server made Cara sit straight in her chair while Gian only winked at his companion. “Red wine, and bring it with the food, please.”

“Five minutes, Sir.”

“Wonderful.”

Gian didn’t take his gaze off Cara, but he listened to the footsteps of the receding server.

“What did you order us, anyway?” she asked.

“Poutine.”

Cara repeated the word, and butchered it the way most Americans and Western Canadians did whenever they said it.

“No, not poo-teen,” Gian said with a laugh. “Pou-tin. Or, pu-tsin if you’re French.”

“Isn’t that, like, fries and gravy?”

“It’s a delicacy, invented by the French. Homemade fries, cheese curds, and a dark gravy, piled into one giant mess on a plate. Everybody has their own way of making it, some add different nonsense to it, which frankly, ruins what it’s supposed to be in the end. It’s not pretty, but it is delicious.”

“And what about after the food and wine?”

Gian shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you want, Cara. I can take you home, and drop you off. I know you probably have classes tomorrow. Or we can go see a movie, maybe a show if you want. It’s up to you.”

“So, a real date, huh?”

“One that ends however and wherever you want it to, bella.”

She smiled a wicked sight.

Gian knew exactly where their date was going to end.

He didn’t mind a bit.