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“Because I have floss?” she said confused.
“Because you are incredible,” he said quietly, finishing off his beer and taking a drink from the new bottle Tommy had dropped off moments earlier.
It was odd to hear someone say that – and he was avoiding looking at her, gazing around the restaurant like he was trying to take in everything… except her.
Emily set down her corncob that she’d been holding with a small splash that she didn’t even bother to acknowledge, staring at him.
This breathtakingly beautiful man who smiled so easily, ate like a man who appreciated a good meal, and laughed like no other… thought she was incredible?
“Me?” she whispered in disbelief, stunned.
He glanced at her and frowned.
“Oh Em… your pretty dress got splashed on,” John began.
He was staring at…her chest? Her non-existent flat chest?
“Eyes up!” she said bluntly, feeling extremely self-conscious about her A-cup bosom… only to see his eyes shoot up to her, looking embarrassed himself.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about my dress – and sure don’t look at my ‘carpenter’s dream’… she muttered, flushing nervously, picking up her beer and taking a sip. “I was literally robbed in the gene pool and sure don’t need anyone noticing all the negatives on me, especially not when I was having such a nice time only a few moments ago.”
“Negatives?” John said in confusion. “What negatives? Robbed of what exactly?”
“Let’s just leave it alone, okay?”
“Em… talk to me.”
“So, when do you fly out? Are you still up for having beignets? When did you want to meet for coffee?” she said in rapid-fire, not meeting his questioning eyes.
“I must be drunk…”
“Why? You’re on your second beer – are you a lightweight?”
“Because I’m not following our conversation anymore,” John said quietly – and touched her hand.
She didn’t even care that her fingers were wet with fluid from the shrimp boil… nor did she notice his own. The only thing she focused on was that he was actually touching her hand, holding hers, and she was taken aback at the strength and calluses on those warm fingers.
As if in slow motion, she looked from their joined hands to him… and saw those breathtaking green eyes were truly confused.
“What negatives, Em, because I sure don’t see any from where I’m sitting,” he whispered softly, not looking away.
“Youaredrunk,” she whispered, stunned – only to see him smile as he chuckled nervously.
“I wish I was, because I’m a little surprised at myself.”
“Why?”
“Can I have your phone number?”
“Yeah,” she replied, angling her head to the side. “Can I have yours?”
“As soon as I get one – yes,” he agreed easily. “Want to go with me tomorrow to get a cell phone and we can get coffee, too?”
“I guess so.”
His eyes held hers as he smiled, and then laced his fingers with hers with an audible squish, reminding them both that their hands were covered in shrimp boil… as they looked at each other.
