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“I’ll bet you want a heaping kettle of catfish. Am I right?”
“Nooo!” Chloe said. “Guess again.”
“Shiver me timbers, then it has to be the jambalaya. Yeah, that’s what the little missy will be wanting. Bring her a big pot of jambalaya.”
“Nooo!” she laughed. “I don’t know what that is, silly.”
“The name is Black Beard to you, silly missy. Black Beard the pirate.”
“Your name isn’t Black Beard, it’s Uncle Daniel, and Princess Sweetie Pie wants chicken fingers. And French fries.”
“Ahhh, I don’t know, that be the dish that’s reserved only for the most special pirate princesses. Are ye a special pirate princess?”
“Yes, I am, and so is Princess Sweetie Pie.”
“Well, then, chicken fingers ye both shall have, but only if ye draw me a pretty picture.”
“I will!” Chloe plucked a purple crayon out of the small basket that the hostess had left on the table and started coloring the picture on the place mat.
That was when Daniel noticed an older woman at the table next to them beaming at them.
“She’s adorable. How old is she?”
“I’m five.” Chloe fanned out the five fingers on the hand that wasn’t holding the crayon. She checked her hand as if she was making sure she had the right number.
“You seem like a very smart and well-behaved young lady,” the woman said as she and her party scooted their chairs back and prepared to leave. “It warms the heart to see parents so engaged in their child. You are the most beautiful little family.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said.
He flashed a knowing smile at Elle, to see how she would react.
When she smiled and thanked the woman, too, for that moment in time, looking at her sitting across the table from him, next to Chloe, he felt like they were a family. Daniel soaked up what it would be like to be married to Elle and out to dinner with their child.
It felt right.
“What?” Elle said, smiling at him.
He shook his head, grinning back at her.
“This place makes me think of the architecture tours you were talking about offering your guests,” he said, needing to ground himself in more substantial thoughts than pretending to be married to her.
“How so?” she asked.
“It’s not only the oldest building in Savannah, but it’s considered the oldest house in all of Georgia.”
“I’ve heard that, but—okay, I’ll confess. Can you believe that even though I was born and raised here, this is the first time I’ve ever been to the Pirates’ House?”
“Get out,” he said, leaning in. “I thought this place was mandatory for all natives.”
“No, it’s mandatory for all tourists,” she said.
“Which makes it a must-see for your architecture tour. The historic restaurant and tavern area of the place were built in the 1750s, but that small building that we passed on the way in, the Herb House, was built in the 1730s. That’s some pretty significant architectural history.”
“It sure is,” she said. “It’s pretty impressive that you know so much about it. Were you always interested in architecture?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was, but I didn’t realize it. If I’d always been interested in it, I probably would’ve gone to college and studied architecture. Like Aidan.”
“It’s never too late.”
He leaned back so that his back was flush against the chair. “I have too much on my plate already with my business. There’s not a lot of extra time, which is a good problem to have. Plus, I think I’d probably prefer building over designing, but I think it’s knowing the design end—or at least the features that are specific to the original houses of Savannah—that sets me apart from the competition.”
Elle held up her hands. “You’ve convinced me. I think it’s cool that you’re into the history because it interests you.”
It was crazy, but the way she tilted her head made him think about their history—about the first time he saw her, about that time when she was trying to teach him grammar and he leaned in and kissed her. He wanted to do it again and would have, right there in the middle of the Pirates’ House, if Chloe hadn’t been sitting there.
