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“I heard that,” he said, completely serious. “And I agree.”
*
They left therestaurant and instead of returning straight to the car, took a walk around Bakewell, enjoying the lights and the brightly illuminated Christmas tree in the center of town. Ella was glad to be out, moving. She couldn’t stop replaying their dinner conversation over and over in her head, and the replays didn’t help. The replays just made her feel worse.
“What’s on your mind?” Baird asked as they walked along the riverbank.
She shook her head. “Nothing and everything.” She looked up at him. “All at the same time.”
He plucked a strand of hair from her eyelashes. “That’s a lot.”
“It is. It’s too much.”
“Maybe stop thinking for a bit. You don’t have to have all the answers tonight. You can just relax. Be.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
“How so?”
“I can’t think straight, not around you, Baird. Why is that?”
“I don’t know, but if it’s any consolation, it’s mutual.”
She looked up, into his eyes. “Is it?”
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t classically handsome and yet she thought he was the most beautiful man in the world. His eyes, his nose, his mouth. But of everything, she had a special fondness for his nose, with that bump. “How did you get that?” she asked, reaching up to lightly touch his nose.
“Broke it in a fight.”
“Do you fight much?”
“Try not to.”
“So, you’re a peaceful man.”
“Peaceful enough,” Baird said, drawing her closer. “I don’t start fights. I just finish them.”
She felt fizzy and dizzy all at the same time. “Are you good with those fists?”
Baird lifted one hand, clenching it. “I can handle myself, and others, if need be.”
“Impressive.”
Baird smiled, amused. “Are you a bloodthirsty wench?”
“I do find a strong man sexy.” Her face grew warm. “But please know, I’m not flirting. I’m just being truthful.”
He suddenly flexed, his bicep bunching. “Have I shown you my muscles lately?”
“You have never shown me your muscles.”
“What about at the wedding?”
“You were wearing the tuxedo jacket.”
“A shame.”
