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“You sound like a writer,” I say.
“Is that what you do? Watch people?”
“I’ve always felt distant from those around me. Closer to dogs, honestly. I can hang back, watch, and study, but before you, I never thought I’d really be a person. I know that makes me sound like a sociopath. I’ve got a close group of friends. I just never felt romantic, and now I know why. I was waiting for you.”
“I don’t think an actual sociopath would admit any of this, anyway.”
I smirk. “Or maybe I’m just a very clever one, eh? Have you thought of that?”
She laughs, knowing I’m joking, even if she should question it. She shouldn’t be on Team Max so quickly, but maybe she’s on team us.
“You’ve gotten too used to being in the shadows,” she says. “That’s why you won’t tell the world who you are.”
“Does it mean that much to you?”
“I’m proud of you.” She beams at me. “Aren’t I allowed to be proud of my man?”
“I love it when you say that.”
“What, that I’m your woman, and you’re my man?”
I nod, eyes fixed on her, her beauty reminding me why we met in public. We can’t do anything until we’ve sorted this stuff out with Jane.
“Let’s choose something before the waitress plots to murder us,” I chuckle.
“Fair enough. Will you judge me if I… I… pig out?”
She laughs, but I can’t.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“You shouldn’t say that. You’re the furthest thing from that.”
“I’m only kidding. Sometimes, I almost prefer to joke about it.”
“I understand, but it’s just plain wrong.”
“Well…”
My body tenses up as if that asshole Cillian is here. I lean forward, looking down at my woman, the fabric hugging her curvy body. “You’re perfect, Ellie—every part of you. There’s nothing not perfect about you. I can’t think of you like that, even as a joke. I love how curvy you are. End of story.”
“So you’re saying you don’t mind?” she says, touching my arm.
“Order whatever you want,” I tell her. “I’ll never judge you.”
We cut into our steaks at the same time.
“I can’t believe you got yours well done,” I say.
She beams over at me, so playful and young and gorgeous. Every part of her floods me with an everlasting mark of love. It’s love. God, I need to say it, to tell her just how much she means to me.
“Everybody says that,” she replies.
“Oh, Ellie, you wound me. I thought I’d come up with something original.”
“Listen, I like my steak well done and pineapple on my pizza. Are we going to have a problem, Mr. No Judgment?”
I laugh when she points her fork at me, holding my hands up.
She grins and returns to her food. We eat in silence for a while. It’s like we’re married already, and we don’t feel the need to speak. We can simply be together. It’s just one of the things that constantly amazes me about her.
“Are you going to keep Petey?” she asks.
“That decision is half yours,” I tell her.
“It is?”
“We’re going to be together. I don’t think he’s very old. It’s hard to tell, but apart from his poor treatment, he seems well enough. He’ll be around for a while. So yes, it is.”
“I love it when you say we’re going to be together.”
She lingers on the word love, and I wonder if she’s doing it on purpose. I wonder if she’s hinting at what she wants me to say. I could do it and cross that line. Hell, it’s not like we haven’t crossed a bunch already. At least she knows the truth about Jane, about all of it. I meant what I said. I’d never lie to her.
“I think we should keep Petey,” she says, nodding slowly, then quicker, smiling. “We can make a little den for him in the first baby’s room when they come along.”
“We’ll have to be careful, though. He’s got quite the growl on him.” I smirk. “If he gets protective over the little bundle, we’ll never be allowed to see them.”
“I’ll have to practice my karate moves,” she says, putting her cutlery down and waving her hands like she’s in a kung fu movie.
I can’t help but laugh. We lock eyes the whole time, one more bright moment to stack on top of everything else. “On a poor little dog?”
“Kidding, obviously. That would be hella cruel.”
“Hella,” I say, a teasing note in my voice. “I’ve never heard that before.”
“Hella? It’s something the librarian used to say back on the West Coast. She’s the only person in the whole school who didn’t look at me like I was different or deficient after that prank. Or maybe I was just so caught up in it that I couldn’t imagine anybody not judging me. I guess I just took it on.”
I reach over and touch her hand. The food is delicious. I researched this place beforehand, wanting to make it special. Nothing is sweeter than being with my woman—touching her and pretending it will all work out.
