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Henrietta writes on her order pad and mutters, “One coffee and one what’s-the-point?”
She’s about to walk away, when Dr. Stone says, “Can we also trouble you for a bag of ice and a dish towel for her ankle?”
She pauses and glares at him for a second, but then his gorgeous, warm smile wins her over and she relents. She turns and calls over her shoulder, “All right, but you’re going to owe me!”
I open my menu to look for a healthier choice than what I’m really craving. “So, where are you from, Dr. Stone?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the menu in front of me.
“Call me Ben.”
“Okay.” I feel my face go red at the sound of his name. Ben. I can imagine that name escaping my lips in the throes of passion. Hoping he can’t read my mind, I say, “Where are you from, Ben?”
“Boston. Born and raised.”
“I thought I detected a bit of a New England accent.”
“Did you? When I go home to visit, my dad says I sound like a damn foreigner.”
“He’s just jealous that you get to live here and he’s there.”
Ben grins. “That could be. What about you?”
“Chicago, but I moved to New York three years ago for work.”
Henrietta brings our coffees and a plastic bag filled with ice, along with a dish towel. “There you go, Princess.”
“Thanks.” My face heats up with embarrassment.
She flips open her order pad and gets her pen ready. “What can I get you to eat?”
Ben answers for both of us, “Two Moons Over My Hammy, please.”
I shake my head. “Make that one. I should stick with a yogurt and fruit cup.”
She nods and walks away.
As soon as she’s gone, Ben narrows his eyes. “I thought we were reliving our college days?”
“I’m too old for that. I don’t have a teenage metabolism anymore. Not that I ever did.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not overweight.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh, yeah, I am.”
“No, you’re not. I’m so sick of women thinking they have to have a thigh gap to be beautiful. You’re lovely—and healthy—the way you are.” He gazes at me for a moment, then says, “I like a woman with a little something to hold onto.”
My entire body turns to mush and I find myself not knowing where to look while I try to hide my smile.
Ben turns and waves down Henrietta just as she’s passing by with a pot of coffee. “Can you change our order? Make it two Moons Over My Hammies?”
She sighs, then shakes her head at me. “You’re one high maintenance young lady.”
“Not normally,” I say as she walks away, but she’s already gone. I look at Ben with a sheepish expression. “I actually don’t like it when people make a fuss over me.”
“Which means you’re exactly the type of girl that everyone should make a fuss over.”
The sun is completely up by the time we leave Denny’s. When we step out of the restaurant, the early morning heat and humidity wrap around me, reminding me I’m about as far from New York as I could be. I fill my lungs with the fragrant air and smile. I’m really here in St. Lucia, and even though my ankle is throbbing, I’ve just had the longest, most wonderful conversation with a man in my entire life. At Denny’s, but still. At Denny’s in St. Lucia.
“I can’t believe we sat there for so long. You must be exhausted,” I say as we make our way to the Jeep again.
