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“Everything looks delicious.” I say absentmindedly.
“Hard to choose, huh?” Josh mumbles, eyes also scanning our options.
I focus on the choices for a few more minutes, then close the menu, resolutely putting it down. Josh raises an eyebrow: “You’ve decided?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“What are you having?”
“The stuffed mushrooms and filet, but I’ll probably ask for potatoes instead of the vegetables, then cream pie, and coffee.”
“You’re having red meat, potatoes,andcream pie?” Josh puts down his menu, observing me with what looks like renewed interest.
“Uh… yes, why?” I ask, surprised by his reaction, and growing a little wary…
“Well, most women I know don’t eat red meat, potatoes, or cream pie. I like that you do.”
I smile, amused and a bit relieved. “Those women are probably in great shape. You’ve noticed my extra pounds…”
He stares at me intently, heated eyes tracing a trail down my body, like a warm finger tracing the line of my cleavage then disappearing under the table… Josh smiles lazily, and answers: “you’re alright.”
I gasp in mock outrage and bend over the table to playfully slap him on the arm. Josh chuckles, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender: “OK, no violence!”
“So what are you having, Mr. Judgy?”
“Same as my lady,” he replies with a wink.
Hislady… I clear my throat and start rearranging my cutlery with utter concentration. And I think I catch Josh’s ghost of a smile.
The server returns, bringing two glasses of water. I like her: she’s been nothing but professional since we’ve arrived. She threw in a few jokes, and although she discreetly checks him out, she didn’t try flirting with Josh. Not that it would be any of my business, but I appreciate the sisterly courtesy! She takes our order; leaving with the promise our food will be ready shortly.
Josh gives me back his full attention. Dark blue eyes catching the soft light of the lanterns, sharp features highlighted, breathtaking smile in place.
“How old are you, Nia?”
I answer without hesitation: “thirty-eight, you?”
“Wow, I’m impressed: first time, a woman doesn’t give me shit about asking her age. And I wouldn’t have guessed: you look much younger.” Another appreciative once-over…
“Thank you, I guess….” I roll my eyes: “why is it a good thing that I look younger than my age? That wasjust sexist, Josh!”
“No, it’s not sexist: it’s a good thing you look amazing regardless of your age. I’m just surprised my first guess was off. I’m usually pretty good at placing people in the right age group.” He explains.
I smile back and reluctantly admit: “OK then, thank you.”
Josh shakes his head, amused: “Little miss feisty.”
The server brings our appetizers. I plunge my fork in the steamy mushroom stuffing, bring it to my mouth, and moan with delight as the buttery wonder hits my taste buds.
“Oh My God! This is so good!!”
When I open my eyes, I see Josh literally drinking me in… His pupils dilated; he watches me intently, eyes glued to my mouth, jaw tight, hands fisting his silverware, his mouth a thin line… He is so freaking intense. Josh takes a deep breath, then clears his throat.
The server is back with steaming plates, and gathers our empty dishes. I cut a piece of my filet, trying my best to not over-share my ecstasy, but when I look up after having closed my eyes for a second too long, Josh is staring at my lips again… Shit! He shakes his head, eyes glued to my lower lip caught between my teeth; and says low, rumbly, slowly: “you’re killing me here, Nia.” It’s my turn to clear my throat and pretend to ignore the sexual tension building up between us.
I try bringing back the conversation to a lighter mood and ask: “where did you go to college?”
“Berkeley, Boalt Hall School of Law. It’ a family tradition. My mom runs the law firm passed down to her by her father and his father before him.”
