“It’s every man’s favorite movie because it’s incredible.”
“Pick another. And...” I tilted my head. “It’s got to involve a main character singing.”
He scrunched his face at me. “You want my favorite movie, and it has to involve that?”
“Yep.” I dipped a carrot into crab dip and crunched half of it into my mouth. “First date rules. You have to do whatever I say.”
“This is our first date? What about—”
I wave him off. “The Bahamas didn’t count.”
“Okay… I’ll follow your first date rules if you follow my first night rules.”
“Which are?” I narrowed my eyes at him, though I couldn’t stop the hint of a smile.
“You have to do whatever I say.”
“Hmm ... sounds kinky.” I raised my eyebrows at him and took another sip of Corona. “Thought that ball was in my court?”
He shrugged. “You’re a woman. That ball is always in your court.”
“Fine. Deal.” I sat back, the waitress clearing our bread plates with quick efficiency. “Ma’am, can we get two shots of Patron please?”
“Tequila?” Brett asked, leaning back in his seat, the gap from the table a perfect depth for me to straddle his legs. I busied myself with a crab leg instead.
“You’re evading. Favorite movie with impromptu singing.”
“The Wedding Singer.”
“Nope. He was a singer, so that doesn’t count.”
“So ... Johnny Cash, Elvis, Rockstar... those don’t count?”
“Nope. Nope. Nope.”
“Jerry Maguire.”
I put down the crab leg, snapping my eyes to his. Oh my word, he just got even hotter. He grinned. “You approve?”
I laughed. “Yes. I approve. I was expecting something more manly, like Top Gun or Full Metal Jacket, but I approve.”
He winced. “How did I miss those?”
“I complete you,” I said with a wink.
The alcohol made the comeback hilarious, and we were wheezing by the time the disapproving waiter brought our entrees.
***
“I like watching you eat.” Brett wiped his mouth and leaned back, setting the white cloth napkin next to his plate. Five desserts covered the surface between us, bites missing from each. We’d done a horrible job of finishing, but a great job of sampling.
“Good. I like to eat.” I winked at him and stretched back, straightening my legs beneath the table.
“You are a very sexy eater. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I laughed. “Sexy eater … hmm. Never got that compliment before.” My exes, bless their hearts, weren’t suave enough to know how much compliments were appreciated. I had been lucky to get a ‘You’re pretty’ on a date. “Think I should add it to my Match.com profile?”
His eyes hardened, and he leaned forward, his elbows settling on the table. “Oh no. I can think of much better adjectives than that.”
“Really?” I widened my eyes dramatically and was momentarily distracted by the key lime pie. Maybe one more bite … no. My stomach was officially full. “Please share.”
“Let’s see.” He looked down, the fingers of his left hand rubbing thoughtfully over his mouth. His knuckles are scarred. I hadn’t noticed that before, the table’s candle flickering over faded thin lines, like he had punched a hundred walls. Such a contrast to the controlled man before me. “You have horrible taste in sensible footwear. Prefer high-pressure sexual advances to gentlemanly overtures. Can order a poor man into bankruptcy. Have questionable judgment when it comes to choosing travel companions.”
I twisted my mouth in an attempt not to smile. “I think those things are bad. The point is to highlight my strengths.”
“Oh no.” He shook his head, leaning back in his seat. “We can’t do that. If we tried to list your attractive qualities, we’d run out of space.”
I laughed, feeling my cheeks heat. I should be better at this. Should probably cross my legs and lean forward, putting my breasts on display. Grin knowingly, like I received swoon-worthy comments every day. Should toss my hair and look natural doing it.
“So how is your online search for true love coming?” He raised his eyebrows with interest.
“Horribly,” I groaned. “Which may be due to the fact that my town’s dating pool is only about a hundred people deep. I think I have to expand the search area.”
“Or close it entirely.”
We weren’t having the ‘exclusive’ talk right then. It was impossible. Too soon. I shrugged. Leaned forward and took another look at the deliciousness that was the key lime pie. Maybe I could have one more bite.
“Looks like a whole lotta deep thought going on over there,” Brett remarked, scribbling his signature on the bill.
“Not really. Just trying to resist temptation.” I looked up and smiled wryly.
“Me too.” The right side of his mouth pulled up, revealing the dimple in his cheek. He really was gorgeous. Heartbreakingly so. “Ready?” He stood and offered his hand.
“Ready.” I took it and stood, his hand linking through mine, our stroll back to the room a leisurely journey. Beside us, the ocean glittered in the moonlight, the crash of waves delicately quiet in the backdrop. I wondered if he’d try something once we got to my room. I was almost woozy from the food, the wine with dinner putting me in a wistful state of calm.
We came to a stop next to the elevator, and he pressed the button. Wrapped his hand around my back and pulled me into his chest. “Your hair smells so good,” he murmured, putting a soft kiss on the top of it.
“Good-smelling hair. Seductive eater … keep going Mr. Jacobs,” I whispered, lifting my chin from his chest to look up at him.
“Oh no. I’m not giving your online dating any more of a boost,” he grumbled, the chime of the elevator breaking our moment.
I laughed and let him pull me inside the lift, his hands pulling me back against him as soon as the doors closed.
“Girl, this better be worth international minutes,” Chelsea, the only one of my friends who could afford international minutes, huffed into the receiver, the drone of the treadmill running on slow in the background.
“It’s really not, but talk to me anyway.”
“What, the sex sucks?”
“Haven’t had any yet.”
“What?” Her screech was so loud I had to pull my cell away from my ear. “It’s been two days!”