“Hush,” she scolded, holding back a laugh. “You know that was all true.”
“Yeah, well, no one else ever managed to break the towel bar in my shower.”
Instead of giving his foot another tap, she kicked him. “That was you!” she whispered.
“I was trying to brace myself against the force of your—”
She lunged for him and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Stop!” she gasped, laughing too hard to put any strength into the words. His warm eyes told her he was thinking of exactly what they’d done in the shower. How he’d pressed her against the tile. How she’d— His mouth opened and she jerked back from the feel of that heat.
“Naughty,” she scolded.
Their pizzas arrived while Olivia was still blushing. They were supposed to be individual size, and they’d ordered three of them to get a good feel for the variety, but her eyes widened at the sight of them. “These are individual portions?” she sputtered.
The waiter laughed. “They’re maybe a little more than one serving.”
“We can handle it,” Jamie assured her, sliding the first slice onto her plate before he served himself.
“You can take the leftovers home,” she said. “I don’t need the calories.”
“That works out perfectly because I’m a growing boy.”
She descended into laughter again. He certainly was a growing boy. He grew and grew every time she asked him to.
While she was still thinking dreamily about his body, Jamie turned serious. “Too much cheese,” he said, pointing at his slice. “Now, normally, that’s not a phrase I’d utter, but it’s overwhelming the thin crust.”
She took a bite. “Yes, it needs better balance.”
“Too greasy. But it’s good. I really like the crust.”
“What do you think about having different kinds of crust?”
He nodded as he swallowed another bite. “We’ll definitely need a whole wheat crust in Boulder. Maybe even a gluten-free.” He frowned. “I’ll have to find out what that means.”
“You’ll have to bring in a chef fairly early on,” Olivia suggested. “He’ll be able to provide a lot of input to the menu. You’ve got a great start, but keep an open mind for a chef’s suggestions.”
“Absolutely. I’m no expert. I just know what I like to eat.”
“On that note…try the one with artichoke.”
Jamie groaned—the veggie pizza had been Olivia’s choice—but he agreed that the strong flavors were intriguing. By the end of the meal, she could see the way his mind was turni
ng, ideas tumbling through his head. His eyes looked far away, so when her phone rang, she didn’t feel guilty about slipping it from her purse.
“Do you mind if I get this? It’s Gwen, and—”
“No problem.”
Olivia walked toward the front door, already smiling as she put the phone to her ear. “Well?” she asked. Gwen could only be calling about one thing…lunch with Paul.
“Well…” Gwen drawled coyly.
“How did it go?”
“Okay, he’s just as cute as you said he was. And I’m so glad we went to lunch, because if it had been dinner, I would’ve taken him home afterward and broken the first-date rule.”
“Really?” Olivia squealed, pacing along the sidewalk.
“He was so funny! I swear I was laughing the whole time. Who would’ve thought a business-law guy could be goofy?”