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I smile. “I’m twenty-nine. You?”
“This is the place. I’m thirty-two.” His green eyes flick over me.
As I face him in the cold, I wonder if he is single. I like him. A little too much. I’m here to save Kate’s job, not to fall for some rugged adventurer. But if I were looking for an outdoorsman, he ticks all the boxes. I like that he is a little mysterious yet sexy and charming. And his deep voice has me hanging on his every word.
He holds my gaze. “Are you ready to go inside?”
I smile. “I’m cold.” Turning, I walk up the steps and open the door.
Stepping inside the restaurant, the warm air and hectic vibe surround us. The place smells heavenly. I must be hungry, as I want to order every dish on the menu.
After taking off my jacket and scarf, I wait for the hostess to seat us. A group of four or five people squeezes past us, and I step closer to Lorimer.
He removes his hat and jacket and gets the hostess’s attention. She immediately grabs a couple of menus and seats us near the open kitchen.
She hands us each a menu and says, “Your server tonight is Lara. She’ll be over in a few minutes.”
He looks at the menu. “I chose this place for the open kitchen and small plates.”
I moisten my lips. “Why the open kitchen?”
He stares into my eyes. “I like to observe the chef preparing the food. It tells me something about the place.”
I glance at the menu. “I’ve eaten in places where I wouldn’t want to see the kitchen.”
He laughs. “That’s probably a mistake.”
I shrug and resist smiling. It’s not good, but I dislike cooking and have a limited budget.
Lorimer puts the menu down. “What were you thinking just now?”
I squint at him. “How do you know I was thinking about something?”
He leans back in his chair. “You shrug instead of saying what is on your mind.”
I pull the cloth napkin out. “Not every thought needs to be shared.”
Smiling, he says “No, but if you share more unfiltered thoughts, getting to know someone is easier.”
I make myself hold his gaze. “Is that what you do?”
He splays his hand across his chest. “It depends on who I’m with and the purpose of the conversation.”
I laugh. “I frequent sketchy restaurants in New York. I don’t like to cook, and my budget is limited. But I’m careful about what I order and never get sick.”
He smiles, and his green eyes darken slightly. “That’s a survival skill.”
I take a sip of water. “I know, right?”
“So, tell me, what else do you do in New York City?”
I purse my lips as I consider my day-to-day life. For some inexplicable reason, I resist shrugging and push myself to share my true thoughts. “I teach third grade at a private school. I’ve been teaching for six years, but lately, I’ve been questioning my career path. My parents are both retired professors. So, it seemed like a natural choice to go into education. I grew up around educators. But I’m at the point where I should go to graduate school. Yet, I don’t feel inspired or driven by it. How is that for honesty?”
He raises his eyebrows. “It’s good to question your decisions and desires.”
I lift my shoulders and then sigh. “It’s so hard not to shrug. I often don’t express feelings or ideas that others would find unacceptable. I keep them to myself. It’s easier that way.”
Tilting his head, he asks, “Why is it easier?”
