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Removing the spoon from her mouth, she lifted an eyebrow at him. “So…what’s your favorite color?”
He laughed. “We’ve reached that part of the relationship, have we?”
“We have.” She dug some ice cream from the tub and offered it to him. “I’m partial to blue, myself.”
“I’m a green man,” he said before opening his mouth.
With a laugh, she fed him the ice cream and dug out some more. “Favorite movie?”
“Aliens.”
“Seriously?” She snorted. “Too much gore for me. I love The Proposal.”
“Sandra Bullock fan?”
“Ryan Reynolds, thank you very much.” She flashed a mischievous grin. “If there’d been anyone dressed as Deadpool or the Green Lantern at the party, you wouldn’t have stood a chance, just so you know.”
He snagged the spoon from her and dug into the ice cream, holding her gaze, his pulse thumping fast at the notion of never getting this moment with her. “In that case,” he said, bringing the loaded spoon up to his mouth, “thank bloody God there wasn’t.”
She grabbed his wrist, redirected the spoon into her mouth, and then preened after pulling it out. “You like me,” she said. “Go on, you can admit it.”
He pulled a contemplative face and laughed. Playing it cool had never been one of his strengths. “Yeah. You’re all right.”
“All right?” She gasped in mock indignation.
Laughing again, he scooped out more ice cream and shoved it into his mouth.
She narrowed her eyes and studied him, running her index finger around the inside rim of the tub. “Favorite book?”
“Stephen Hawking’s A Brief History of Time.”
“Really?”
He shook his head. “No. I wanted to sound impressive. It’s actually The Hobbit. Nerd, remember?”
“Oh my fucking God, are you kidding me?” Eyes wide, she gave his chest a gentle shove. “I love Tolkien. Have you been to Hobbiton in New Zealand?”
“I’m ashamed to say I haven’t.”
“We have to go! You will love it. And then we can go bungee jumping in Queenstown—that was the first place I ever bungee-jumped, and it’s freaking amazing—and then after that we can go on the Shotover Jet.”
Heart pounding faster, he looked at her. Did she realize she’d just sent them both on an international trip together? Of course, it was also possible she was speaking rhetorically, but damn, now she’d put the idea into his head…
“What about you?” he asked. Fuck, he desperately needed to get a grip on himself. “What’s your favorite book?”
“Well, given my Italian heritage, my first favorite is Arturo’s Island by Elsa Morante, but my favorite book originally in English is Douglas Adams’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”
Yep, even that answer made him like her more. He’d read the irreverent sci-fi comedy back when he was in high school and close to every year after that. In fact, he’d almost gotten a quote from the book tattooed on his calf during a drunken party back in his university days.
Almost.
Tilly had stopped him.
Just.
“Don’t panic,” he said with a smile, reciting the quote.
Her eyes grew wide, and her smile grew wider. “Yes! Oh my God, Owen? Did I dream you? Not a single guy I’ve dated has even known about Hitchhiker’s, and here you are. When I tried to get Simon to read it…” She trailed off, her teeth catching her bottom lip.
