“I know it.”
“I go there once a month. I would go more often, but I’m not normally in the mood to stand in line to eat.”
“Seriously?” He looks surprised.
“Seriously.” I nod, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I would eat there every night if I could. I love it.”
“I went once and never went back.”
“Some people can handle the heat, and others can’t.” I smirk. “One thing I also learned growing up—the spicier the food, the better my chance of getting more of it for myself.”
“You probably have a point, because if the chicken you get tonight is even close to the heat of Hattie’s, I’ll keep my hands on my own plate.”
“That’s fine, but just remember you already promised me a rib.”
“I won’t forget,” he says as Simon comes back to drop off our drinks and take our orders.
When he leaves once more, I lean back in my seat and take a sip of wine as Gareth takes a pull from his beer. “Where are your boys tonight?” I ask, not wanting to pretend like they don’t exist when they most definitely do.
“With my mom. She’s taking the two of them to the movies and filling them up with junk food.”
“What are they seeing?” I ask, setting my glass back on the table but keeping my fingers wrapped around the stem.
“The new Marvel one that just came out.”
“I want to see that,” I say, and he tips his head to the side. “What?” I ask when I see the look of disbelief in his eyes.
“You like action movies?”
“My list for movies goes: comedy, action, mystery.”
“What about romance?”
“It depends. Only if it’s a romantic comedy. If it is, it’s up there with my love of comedies, but if it’s just a romance, it’s normally a hard pass.”
“That’s surprising.”
“Why?”
“You read romance.”
“I do, but reading a romance book and watching a romance play out on screen are completely different. When you read about a couple, it’s like you are there with them, falling in love at the same time they are. You feel, smell, and see what they do. It’s difficult to portray that into actions and looks in a movie, which makes things awkward for me when I watch a romance unfold on screen.”
“So your favorite movies are comedies?”
“Yes, and I’m that person who is laughing the loudest in the theater, annoying everyone sitting around me.”
He smiles. “What are your favorite types of books to read?”
“It would be a tossup between fantasy and rom-coms. I love disappearing into a new world and experiencing things that don’t exist. I also love romantic comedies, where funny things happen to bring a couple closer together.” I ask, “What are your favorite types of movies?”
“Comedies first then action movies, and occasionally I like to watch sci-fi, depending on what the movie is about.”
“What is your favorite movie of all time?’
“Die Hard.”
“Such a guy.” I roll my eyes, and he chuckles, taking a sip of his beer while leaning back in his seat. I take a sip of wine, amazed at how relaxed I feel. This morning, I was a nervous wreck even thinking about going out with him. But now, I feel surprisingly at ease, even with the constant flutter of butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
“What are you thinking about?”
“This is easier than I thought it would be,” I say truthfully, and he tips his head to the side questioningly. “It probably hasn’t slipped your notice that you make me nervous, but I’m not tempted to run away, or fumbling around knocking over glasses and tripping over my own feet.”
“If you run or if you fall, I’d catch you,” he says, holding my gaze, and my heart begins to pound while my blood warms, making my cheeks hot. “I love it when you blush,” he adds quietly.
“It’s annoying.” I duck my head and fiddle with my napkin on my lap.
Warm fingers touch my cheek and I look up. “It’s adorable and refreshing.”
“Why?”
“It shows that you’re worried about what I might think and are interested in me enough to care. Most people try to hide how they feel; that way, if things don’t work out like they want, the person responsible for hurting them doesn’t know they ever had the power to hurt them. You can’t hide how you feel. Your emotions are written on your skin.”
“I think you just proved why my blushing is annoying,” I say, and he smiles.
“You can think that, but just know I feel differently about the cute way your cheeks get pink,” he tells me, smoothing his thumb over my warm skin, and I lean into his touch. “You should know I’m just as interested as you are.”
“Ahem.” Simon clears his throat, and Gareth’s eyes locked on mine fill with frustration before he looks up at him standing at edge of our table. “Sorry to interrupt.” He places a plate of fried tomatoes between us then bows and backs away quickly, looking nervously at Gareth, and I almost laugh.