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Their gazes met. And the color of her eyes lightened as her expression softened.
Maybe his honesty had disarmed her.
“In that case, yes. Thank you. I’d appreciate that since the waitstaff is swamped.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Maybe something with caffeine? Coffee if they have it. Or a cola. I could use a little energy.”
Stupidly happy that she hadn’t blown him off and sent him away, he threaded his way back through the crowd to reach the bar. The woman suggested a cappuccino, light milk with a strong coffee flavor. Since that sounded perfect, he ordered two.
Hayes slid one cup and saucer—complete with some sort of tiny, weird-shaped biscuit—in front of her. Her genuine smile of gratitude began to bring him back to life.
“This is a tiny bit of heaven. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Thank you.”
He’d become so accustomed to complying with Susanna’s petty demands that he’d forgotten what it was like to genuinely want to please a woman.
“I love biscotti.”
He frowned.
She picked up the cookie-like treat.
“That’s what it’s called? Looks dry as a bone.” He picked up his and banged it on the side of his saucer.
“It is. Which makes it perfect to dip in a cup of coffee.”
Who knew?
“This is cranberry and orange. A classic Christmas pairing.”
He’d never thought of the holidays as having their own flavor profile. Except for fruit cake. And that was a regrettable one, to be sure.
“You don’t spend much time in the kitchen?”
“Afraid not. You?”
“I love cooking. Baking, specifically. Cookies are my thing. I make them every week, and at the holidays I’m afraid I’m a little out of control.”
Hayes could listen to her talk all day. Maybe it was because he was so accustomed to a certain type of woman, but he adored how down-to-earth she was. Her realness fed a part of him that he hadn’t realized was empty. He wanted to know more, so he encouraged her to go on. “Are you?”
“I bake for all my neighbors and coworkers.” She wrinkled her nose. “And then I take some to the shelter where my friend Maddie volunteers. My biggest downfall is that I tend to sample every batch. You know, just to be sure I got the ingredients right.”
That wasn’t apparent to him.
“Which may be one of the reasons I love corsets.”
“I appreciate curves.”
“Well… In that case—” Flushing, she broke off her sentence.
Now he’d never know what she might have admitted.
She tried to hide from him by dunking the end of her biscotti into her coffee. “This is wonderful.”
“I’m glad it makes you happy.”
“Let me pay you back. I can send you money on an app.”
