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My mouth quirked up and my cheeks got warm. “We would have to take two security guards with us.”
“I’m sorry you’re going through this.” He pulled a new business card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “My office number, in the Art History building. Going to coffee with you would be the highlight of my day.”
I put his card in my pocket. “That sounds real nice. I’m gonna help dish and serve this food then I’ll join you wherever you’re at.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Our eyes met and a flush tingled down my skin.
I bustled away.
Hands balled into fists, I wanted Hank. He’d attached all kinds of emotional tentacles to me, and the bastard was still two thousand miles away and seemingly ready to rush into serious territory after we’d spent less than a week together. I dashed up the stairs to the kitchen, my feet pounding on the steps.
Inside the house, Hazel walked through the front door with Charley on his leash. “How’s he doing?” I called to her as I pulled Antonio’s massive salad bowl out of the fridge. “And dinner is in about ten minutes.”
“Yay,” said Hazel. “He’s great. Ate his food and had his first bowel movement in the side yard. I took care of it. I’ll eat up here and keep an eye on him.”
“You’re an angel from heaven.” I loaded bread, salad, cutlery and plates into a clean bin we’d been using for hauling to the barbecue, and headed back down.
After texting Tyrese about dinner, Antonio and I plated up the sliced pork, fresh bread, mustard greens and Savoy cabbage salad, pineapple, and barbecue beans onto the plates. I brought Forest and Layla their plates, along with a bottle of wine. Everyone else surrounded Antonio, rubbing their hands together and admiring his artistry.
Peter and I took our plates over to a couple of lounge chairs on the far side of the pool. “What has you smirking?” He grinned at me.
I set my wine glass down and sunk into the cushioned chair. “This evening feels like an F-you to the terrorist trying to ruin my life. Well, end it. He wants me scared and too afraid to fight back. Not gonna happen.”
He blew out a breath. “You’re a unique woman.”
Our eyes met. I glanced away and took a sip of my wine. “Tell me about yourself. How is Eugene for you so far?”
“Well, I found an apartment I can stand to live in downtown. The park I prefer to walk in is nearby. Also, I’m trying fly fishing.”
“Fly fishing, really? There is a lot of water to explore around here.”
“Don’t think it will be a long-term hobby, but it gives me something to do.” He chewed a bite of food, watching me. “I’ve been on a few dating apps.”
I wiggled my eyebrows at him. “Did you see Amber on there? She hasn’t been happy with her matches so far.”
He leaned back and crossed his legs. “No, I haven’t seen her. My experience has been off putting. I think I’ve been comparing them all to you.”
My ears were definitely getting warm. “Stop. I’m no big whoop. Hopefully getting out and about has been fun.”
“You’re stunning. But I did enjoy having dinner company, except with the one woman who complained about her job for an hour. That one I considered sneaking away from—after paying the bill.”
“Did you?”
“No. But I made up an excuse about my mother calling with a family emergency. She wanted to know when I could buy her dinner again. I had to tell her sorry, it wasn’t working for me. Apparently, that’s the mature and socially kind thing to do.”
I snorted. “And about as easy as stabbing yourself with a fork. Ugh.”
“Then she became angry and wanted to know if I’d made up the call from my mother. I felt like a cornered animal. No, I lied, the call was real. She seemed a bit deflated, and I was guilty for days. Since then, I haven’t had to courage to try again.”
“Phew. I don’t blame you.”
“What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
I stared at the sensual curve of his lips. Fantasies were already playing out in my mind of what we could do together in his office. Quickies on top of a desk—perhaps with me bent forward with my skirt flipped up while he yanked down my panties then slid two of his long fingers in while he unbuckled his pants. Hot desire clenched between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together.
“Yes,” I said on a frustrated exhale. “I suppose I am. He’s far away though.”
Peter nodded, more color in his face. “I thought so. Are you taking Art History? How do your Thursdays look for coffee?”
