Page 43 of Not So Very Sensible

“How soon?”

What did he have on next weekend? “Is next Saturday too soon?”

Her head tilted. “Next Saturday could work.”

Awesome. He internally fist pumped, even as he tried to play it cool. “That’d be great. I could check out your tea offerings and see if your coffee skills are as good as cracked up to be.”

“Hey, I don’t think I boasted about my barista skills,” she protested.

“Look, I like it when a woman is confident, so just own it, okay?”

“Okay.” She leaned forward. “In that case, you’d better prepare yourself for the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had in your life.”

He smiled. “Can’t wait.”

She smiled. “Me either.”

Chapter 8

Why was it that some people felt like hard work getting to know them while others felt like she’d known them all her life? Case in point: She might’ve worked for Nicola, her boss, for the past three years, but she had never felt too close to her. Same with Jackson, whom she’d known a similar amount of time. Whereas Ethan, whom she’d known for less than twenty-four hours, felt like someone with the potential to be her missing half (if she believed in such a thing). Not that she was missing anything—God knew He was her all—but Ethan complemented her so beautifully, she’d be inclined to think God couldn’t have crafted a more ideal match for her.

And then, with Ethan’s invitation to high tea, it seemed like he felt the same, with his smiles and their conversation twining fascination more tightly around her heart. And now, with his very strong hints about wanting to come visit on Saturday, perhaps this wasn’t as one-sided an attraction as she’d feared.

Their comfy striped chairs were positioned in such a way as to make the most of the glorious view, but also so couples could hold hands. And look, she mightn’t be as forward as her sister in giving a man a hint, but she wasn’t above placing her hand on the table in the hopes he might touch her fingers, or better yet, hold her hand.

But before he could do anything, their server appeared with a tray holding their cups and white teapots, plus little jugs of milk and a container holding raw sugar cubes. She nodded. “Thank you.”

Lifting the lid of the teapot, she peered inside. Good. Proper tea leaves that required strainers, not tea bags staining water.

“What are you doing?”

“Call me fussy, but I like to know it’s real tea and not just tea bags.”

“Isn’t that still real tea?”

“Mm, technically yes, but the bags can dilute the flavour. The best practice is to place tea leaves in a pre-warmed pot, then pour just-boiled water over it and let it steep until you reach the preferred flavour intensity.”

He grinned. “In my line of work, ‘best practice’ refers to many other things, so I like this version.”

“Some may think it’s pedantic, but it produces a better result. And if you’re paying this much for the experience, it might as well be the best, right?”

“You want people to get good value for what they pay for.”

“Exactly.”

They bantered back and forth some more, and then their tiered platter of goodies arrived. Just like on Friday afternoon, they had an array of sandwiches, tiny pies, and sausage rolls. The second tier held scones, jam, and cream. And the top tier held sweet treats like lemon tarts, chocolate mousse, and several dainty portions of fruit and cream gateaux, as their helpful server explained.

“That looks amazing,” Ethan declared, then eyed Ellie. “As good as Friday’s efforts?”

“Madam was here on Friday?” the server asked.

“I’m a high tea addict, apparently.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy.”

And it didn’t matter if she’d partaken in something like this recently. In some ways, this was even better. Because all of her attention could be on Ethan, who was fascinating to get to know. She liked him, and he was so easy to talk to that they could talk about all kinds of things. Travel, music, books, art, places they’d been, places they’d like to see. She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not, but he again mentioned the trip to Studio Ghibli that they should do together someday. And while she’d never contemplated taking a trip with a man anywhere—except on a honeymoon in the faraway mists of “one day”—she was starting to wonder if that might be what he was hinting at.

Which made her feel as silly as Katie and inclined to see romance everywhere, but there was something so solid and reassuring about Ethan. The way he talked. The way he mentioned various Bible verses, or recent sermons, or Christian camps that she was also familiar with. Surely that couldn’t all be by manipulative design. He had to know she’d do her due diligence and check that what he said was true.