warm breeze blew off the water, bringing with it the scents of salt and sea.
Mugs of coffee and a sampler tray of signature desserts sat between them. She looked at it warily. Zane was going to give that loser Chad a good beat-down for making Celeste doubt herself. He nudged the plate of delicious pastries a bit closer to her in encouragement, taking one for himself.
“Do what?” Zane asked, popping a bite-size chunk of Baklava into this mouth.
“ This .”
“You don’t like it? We can go somewhere else.”
Celeste looked down at her mug. “No, this is wonderful, but… you don’t have to take me out, or waste your time and money for something I’m already willing to give you freely.”
Her words cut him deeper than he wanted to admit. “Is that what you think, Celeste? That the only reason I might want to take a beautiful woman on a date is so she’ll have sex with me?”
She blushed at the compliment, her shoulders lifting slightly in a gentle shrug. “Isn’t that kind of the way it works?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted reluctantly, though he’d never really thought about it that way. He’d always seen it as a gentlemanly thing to wine and dine a woman before seducing her. Put so bluntly, it seemed cheap and demeaning, a socially acceptable form of bartering goods for services rendered. Until Celeste, he hadn’t been interested in anything more than a fleeting, physical relationship. But now…
“It’s okay, Zane,” she said softly.
“No, it’s not, Celeste,” he said. “I want to do this. To just… be with you.”
“Why?” she asked. Those big eyes met his, filled with curiosity and genuine bemusement.
He sat back, raised the steaming mug of coffee to his lips, attempting to organize his thoughts in a way that made sense. He opted for cautious honesty. She seemed to respond well to that. Once again, he had a feeling that his answer mattered greatly, and a lie would put a premature end to anything between them that might yet be.
“Because you intrigue me. I’ve never met anyone like you. Is it so bad that I want to get to know you better?”
“I think you know me better than most,” she chuckled. A pretty rose flush colored her cheeks. He loved that she was still innocent enough to blush like that, even after everything they’d done together. A small knot formed in his chest, a now-familiar warning that Celeste was different from any woman he’d ever known.
“Some parts,” he agreed, matching her smirk with one of his own. “But you’re kind of like a potato chip.”
She raised her eyebrows, bemused. “A potato chip?”
“I can’t eat just one and be satisfied, being with you is like that. What I’ve tasted is delicious, but you leave me craving more.”
Celeste laughed at the analogy. “You’re insane, did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Repeatedly,” he grinned boyishly. “So?”
“So what?”
“Tell me about Celeste. Feed my Frankenstein, baby.”
She laughed again, but it was softer this time. Looking down at her plate, she played with the icing on a mini-cupcake in the shape of a rose. “I’m really not all that interesting.”
Zane already knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t say that without revealing that Mitch had slipped him some inside info, and he had no wish to rat out his uncle. More importantly, he wanted Celeste to trust him enough to tell him herself.
“How could you possibly know what I find interesting?”
She reluctantly conceded he had a valid point. “All right. What do you want to know?”
Sitting back, Zane sipped his coffee and pretended to think about it for several long minutes before finally asking, “What do you think of southern California?”
She blinked, surprised by his question. It hadn’t been his first choice, but he’d seen the subtle shift in her body language. Her arms drew closer to her body and she leaned forward just a little, steeling herself in anticipation of something personal. Given the way
Mugs of coffee and a sampler tray of signature desserts sat between them. She looked at it warily. Zane was going to give that loser Chad a good beat-down for making Celeste doubt herself. He nudged the plate of delicious pastries a bit closer to her in encouragement, taking one for himself.
“Do what?” Zane asked, popping a bite-size chunk of Baklava into this mouth.
“ This .”
“You don’t like it? We can go somewhere else.”
Celeste looked down at her mug. “No, this is wonderful, but… you don’t have to take me out, or waste your time and money for something I’m already willing to give you freely.”
Her words cut him deeper than he wanted to admit. “Is that what you think, Celeste? That the only reason I might want to take a beautiful woman on a date is so she’ll have sex with me?”
She blushed at the compliment, her shoulders lifting slightly in a gentle shrug. “Isn’t that kind of the way it works?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted reluctantly, though he’d never really thought about it that way. He’d always seen it as a gentlemanly thing to wine and dine a woman before seducing her. Put so bluntly, it seemed cheap and demeaning, a socially acceptable form of bartering goods for services rendered. Until Celeste, he hadn’t been interested in anything more than a fleeting, physical relationship. But now…
“It’s okay, Zane,” she said softly.
“No, it’s not, Celeste,” he said. “I want to do this. To just… be with you.”
“Why?” she asked. Those big eyes met his, filled with curiosity and genuine bemusement.
He sat back, raised the steaming mug of coffee to his lips, attempting to organize his thoughts in a way that made sense. He opted for cautious honesty. She seemed to respond well to that. Once again, he had a feeling that his answer mattered greatly, and a lie would put a premature end to anything between them that might yet be.
“Because you intrigue me. I’ve never met anyone like you. Is it so bad that I want to get to know you better?”
“I think you know me better than most,” she chuckled. A pretty rose flush colored her cheeks. He loved that she was still innocent enough to blush like that, even after everything they’d done together. A small knot formed in his chest, a now-familiar warning that Celeste was different from any woman he’d ever known.
“Some parts,” he agreed, matching her smirk with one of his own. “But you’re kind of like a potato chip.”
She raised her eyebrows, bemused. “A potato chip?”
“I can’t eat just one and be satisfied, being with you is like that. What I’ve tasted is delicious, but you leave me craving more.”
Celeste laughed at the analogy. “You’re insane, did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Repeatedly,” he grinned boyishly. “So?”
“So what?”
“Tell me about Celeste. Feed my Frankenstein, baby.”
She laughed again, but it was softer this time. Looking down at her plate, she played with the icing on a mini-cupcake in the shape of a rose. “I’m really not all that interesting.”
Zane already knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t say that without revealing that Mitch had slipped him some inside info, and he had no wish to rat out his uncle. More importantly, he wanted Celeste to trust him enough to tell him herself.
“How could you possibly know what I find interesting?”
She reluctantly conceded he had a valid point. “All right. What do you want to know?”
Sitting back, Zane sipped his coffee and pretended to think about it for several long minutes before finally asking, “What do you think of southern California?”
She blinked, surprised by his question. It hadn’t been his first choice, but he’d seen the subtle shift in her body language. Her arms drew closer to her body and she leaned forward just a little, steeling herself in anticipation of something personal. Given the way
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