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“No…farther north. Much farther.”
“Finland?”
“No.”
Okay, I’m tired of playing twenty questions. I’ll cut him a break for now.
I lean forward, done torturing him for now. “Listen, Ben. People don’t come all this way for something normal,” I say with a wink, sipping my coffee.
A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and dang, I want to offer him my lip balm so he’ll put his lips on something that belongs to me.
“They certainly don’t. It seems I’ve already found something extraordinary,” he says.
Me? He doesn’t mean me. He means Waffle House, where we can see and smell the grease-covered kitchen.
“Okaay,” I drawl, trying not to squirm in the booth. “Just so you know, there is only one way people take their tea here.”
To my surprise, Ben beams at me.
“I look forward to experiencing all of the delicacies your western territory of Virginia has to offer.”
I bite back a laugh because I am me, and I don’t want anyone to feel mocked. Except for the stick shift thing. He totally walked into that one.
“Bless your heart. How much do you know about where you are?”
Ben’s face lights up. “Absolutely nothing! Isn’t that great?!”
This man’s formal politeness, peppered with wide-open innocence, is confusing yet endearing.
I like him. Crap.
And boy, do I like staring at him.
The photos on the internet do not do Ben justice. When the light and shadow catch his barely-there chin divot just the right way, I am in danger of crossing into stupid territory. All I can think about is pressing the pad of my index finger into it.
There aren’t many men in this world whose faces would not be improved with a beard, but this guy has a rare one. If people don’t know who he is, they would assume he’s a celebrity based on his prominent cheekbones and jawline alone.
“First thing’s first. You just say West Virginia,” I say, leaning over the table. “Not territory of …whatever it was you said.”
“West Virginia. Got it,” Ben says, nodding. Aw. He really is such a sweet, silly thing.
I wonder what he’s like back home in his native Gravenland.
But I can’t ask him that, can I? Not when he has no idea that I know who he is.
“So…what are you doing in West Virginia, Ben?”
“Enough about me. What else do I need to know about? Tell me everything about yourself.”
He means he wants to know about the area. Not me, personally. I’m pretty sure.
Where do I start? “What is it you want to do while you’re here? We have everything. River rafting, kayaking, rock climbing, hiking. Are you a sportsman? We got fishing, hunting, you name it. If you like golf, there’s plenty of that.”
Ben grins. “Perhaps I should have taken my brother with me,” he says.
“Your brother?”
“He loves to fish and hunt.”
