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He disappeared down the aisle, and I meandered over to the bread, finding what looked like a rye-wheat, the aroma telling me it was freshly baked. And last, for dessert, I picked up a slice of Black Forest cake.
I met Easton at the counter, where we set all the food and beer.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said as I began to take out my wallet.
“But this was my idea. Please let me pay.”
“This entire trip, including the dinner, is on Hooked.” He kissed the side of my forehead. “I’m paying.” He handed his corporate card to the older woman and put his arm around my waist.
She silently ran his card through the machine once I selected the appropriate number of plastic bags we would need to buy, and I bagged our food, adding napkins and wooden forks and knives. “Beautiful night.” Her accent was thick, her eyelids heavy as she scanned our faces.
“Is it going to rain?” Easton asked her.
She shook her head, her gray hair falling into her eyes. “A romantic mist.”
“Perfect,” I whispered.
I grabbed one of the bags, leaving the other two for Easton, and thanked her before we made our way outside. The remainder of the walk was down a narrow path, tightly squeezed between two buildings. Apartment windows ran across both sides, baskets of flowers hung from the ledges, and clothes were draped from lines.
Simplicity.
But such charm at the same time.
At the end of the walkway was a large body of water with tall planted trees surrounding the side we were approaching. Where the trees ended, a half wall began, standing about ten feet above the waterline, blocking the lake from the street. I placed the bagged food on the top of the wall and gripped the railing that ran across it, pulling myself up. I first landed on my knees, then my feet, reaching for Easton’s bags once I found my balance.
He slid the thin plastic into my fingers. “We’re eating here?”
I carefully placed the bags on one side of me while he sat on the other. “Trust me. You’re going to love it.”
With our legs dangling over the edge of the wall, many feet from the water, I handed him a pilsner and took one for myself. “Cheers.”
“You’re right,” he said as we clinked cans. “I am going to love it.”
My smile widened and I took a sip before reaching into the bags and removing all the food. “The last time I was here, I tried most of these. They were amazing.” I gave him a fork, knife, and napkin.
He stabbed a piece of cabbage and brought it to his lips. “Do I need to know what this is before I eat it?”
“No.”
He chewed, groaning. “You’re right. Jesus, this is exceptional.”
I stared at his mouth while he took in some potato salad, followed by sausage and the heavy strings of sauerkraut. Even though he was asilent chewer, there was something mesmerizing about watching this man eat, seeing him hold a fork, the way he licked his lips and wiped them with a napkin after each bite.
He made ordinary look sexy.
Enough so that my body vibrated. The tingling returned, moving lower, deeper in my navel.
“Maybe I should have bought more than a six-pack.” He laughed.
I set the almost-empty beer down. “You’re making me thirsty, that’s all.” I took the cake out of the bag. “This is for dessert.”
“What is it?”
“Black Forest cake. It’s one of the desserts they’re known for.”
“It has cherries, right?”
“Yes,” I replied.
