Okay, then. Obviously not a happy marriage. Then again, if they’d been happily married, they wouldn’t have gotten divorced. “What was her name?”
“Nicole.” He picked up his menu, holding it like a shield. “I’m thinking steak. You?”
She reached across the table and pulled the menu down until she could see his face. “If you don’t want to talk about her, just say so.”
His gaze was flinty, but underneath… God, he was hurting so much, wasn’t he? She could see it in his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her. My marriage wasn’t happy. I don’t have smiling pictures of her in my house or any fond memories. At all. That’s really all you need to know.”
“I can accept that. But I have one more question.”
“What is it?”
“How long ago did you split up?”
He didn’t answer at first, just looked at her as if she’d slapped him. She dropped her gaze to the table and fiddled with her silverware. If he said a month ago, she’d walk out. A month ago meant she was the rebound girl.
He sighed. “Eight years ago.” His menu hit the table with a heavy plop. “We split more than eight years ago. I’ve never remarried or even dated seriously. I’ve been single all that time, and perfectly happy that way.”
“I see.” She looked down at her lap. “But…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
She kept her gaze on her napkin and fretted the edges until the thread started to unravel.
He hadn’t dated for years…but now all of a sudden he was pursuing her? All of a sudden, he was ready? Why now? Why her? He might have the best of intentions, but a man who hadn’t dated for eight years wasn’t about to change his habits. He probably had a casual fling back home, too.
“What’s wrong?”
She jerked. “For someone who says he isn’t good with emotions, you’re a little too good at catching my mood swings.”
“Comes with the territory. Marketing executive, remember? It helps if I know how to read people. You could say I was born with a natural talent for reading brooding stares.”
She choked on a laugh. “Is that what I was doing? Brooding?”
“Indeed.” His gaze focused on her again, intense and dark. “What’s wrong?”
“I was just wondering…why are you ready to date now?”
He tensed up. “Honestly? I don’t know. I haven’t dated because I’ve been absorbed in my own bitterness for years. It wasn’t until recently, when my sister got married to my best friend, that I realized how miserable I was. Seeing their happiness brought me out of my own shadow.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And since then, I’ve been working on getting out of the abyss I’ve been stuck in. I’ve been working on being more open to other people. And then…you came along.”
Her heart fluttered. “And now?”
“And now I’m ready to try again.” He leaned in, catching her gaze. “With you.”
“Oh.”
She watched him without saying anything else. She didn’t think she could come up with a coherent sentence right now, anyway. He’d told her he might want something serious with her, and all she could manage to say is oh? How pathetic.
He picked his menu back up, his knuckles white on the plastic edges. “Do you know what you want?”
No. Not at all. “What do you mean?”
“For dinner.” He cocked his head. “The waitress should be back soon.”
And just like that, he was calm and collected. Talking about dinner when she was trying to decide whether or not she’d get in trouble for throwing herself into his lap and kissing him until he smiled down at her. Until she chased away the shadows lurking in his eyes even now. “Ah. R-Right. I think I’ll have a salad.”
His eyes narrowed. “Again?”
She flushed. “It’s woman code.”
“Woman code?”