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“Enjoy your meals,” she said, and with one last look at him, she walked away.
“I think you have a fan,” JoJo stated.
“You?” He grinned.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then I’ll be on my best behavior.”
She laughed. “We’ll see.”
“Flynn, huh? Irish?”
“Yes, on my father’s side. Mom is French.”
“Good combination.” He grinned when she laughed.
Brett picked up the menu and scanned it.
“What do you suggest?”
“Anything and everything.”
“You’re no help. Okay, so what are you getting?”
“The eight-ounce ribeye with a baked potato.”
“That sounds good, but porkchops do too.”
“They are.”
“I’ll get that then. Maybe the next time we come here, I’ll try the steak.” He smiled.
“Let’s see how this goes before we make another date.”
“Damn, JoJo. You’re tough.”
“I’m a woman. I have to be.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“What? That I’m a woman?” She bit her lip; he knew it was because she was trying not to laugh.
Brett chuckled. “Now that I don’t doubt.”
Their server came to their booth, took their orders, then walked off.
****
JoJo was enjoying his company. She picked up her drink and took a sip. He was not only good-looking, but also had a great sense of humor. When she told him he was handsome, she stopped herself from saying devastatingly so. She didn’t want to give him a big head, but looking as he did, he had to know.
“So, JoJo, will you tell me how you got a reservation?”
She sat back, folded her arms, and smirked.
“Is it bothering you that much?”
“No. I’m curious how you got us in when you said I couldn’t.”
