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Even though he attempted a smile, it didn’t reach his eyes. She wanted to comfort him. “How old are they?”
“Twenty-seven, twenty-five, and twenty-one.”
“Oh.” Her fork hovered in mid-air as she processed the new information.
He chuckled and turned his back on her. “I’m an old man, Ali.”
“You’re not old.”
He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before addressing her again. “Did you want more?” He tilted his head toward the stir-fry.
She blinked and looked down at her plate. “No. Thank you. I think I’m good.”
Daniel worked to put the remainder of the food away as she finished eating. Ali couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d learned. He had kids. Adult kids. Kids she never knew existed.
How many other things didn’t she know about him?
His shirt bunched and flexed as he moved around the kitchen, and she felt that same stirring low in her belly. Finding out this new information only made her want to know more. To know everything about him. “Daniel?”
He glanced at her for a moment before placing the leftovers into the refrigerator.
“Have you ever played twenty questions?”
* * *
Daniel shut the door on the refrigerator and paused, thinking about her question. “I don’t think so.”
“Never?”
He leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms. “Is that one of the twenty questions?”
She laughed. “No.”
He smiled, loving the sound of her laughter.
“But seriously, you’ve never played twenty questions to get to know someone before?”
Grabbing the dishtowel, he wiped the counter, then hung it back in its place. “Not that I can recall, no.”
Ali pushed back from the table and stood. She carried her plate to the sink, rinsed it, then placed it in the dishwasher. “Let’s play, then.”
Before he could respond, she took her glass, still half filled with water, and headed into the living room. She sat down on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her, watching him.
Should he play along? He was probably playing with fire.
“What the hell,” he muttered too low for her to hear.
Her smile grew as he walked into the living room and lowered himself into his favorite high-backed chair. “Do you want to go first or should I?” she asked.
“This game was your idea.” He had to admit he was curious as to what she’d want to know about him. It wasn’t as if they were strangers. Then again, there was only so much of his life he shared at the club.
She sat up a little straighter. “How old are you?”
“Fifty-five.” While she may not have known his exact age, she had to have an idea.
Ali nodded. “Okay. Your turn.”
What should he ask? He knew how old she was. “What’s your full name?”
