"Casey and I ate there for a late lunch. It was delicious." I wrapped my arms around myself as the breeze picked up and danced around us upon our exit.
"One of my favorites. Let's try this Latin place just down on the left. It's new and I've been wanting to give it a go." He glanced over at me and smiled.
"I honestly didn't think you were going to call." I focused on the beach in front of us, not wanting to trip and eat it in front of my handsome pseudo-date.
"I wasn't. These trips always wear me out, but it's a life I love. After seeing each other three times today, I figured I'd be fucking with fate if I didn't at least take you to dinner." He chuckled, and I let the various sarcastic responses that rose up in me fall away. No need to chide him at the beginning of the meal. Fate had nothing to do with us running into each other. I didn't care what Casey thought. It was dumb and belonged in a fiction novel.
"Well, then I guess I owe fate a thank you for the free meal and the lovely view." I glanced back at him as we walked into the restaurant. The atmosphere was pure Spanish chaos. Brilliant colors decorated the walls, and people speaking foreign languages rushed about helping various patrons.
Easton's fingers brushed by my back as we approached the hostess stand, and pressed in slightly as he leaned around me and smiled at the hostess. "Two please."
"Of course." She picked up two menus and nodded toward the back. "We have a great seat on the patio if you don't mind the wind."
He looked down at me. "Viv?"
"I don't mind at all." I moved from him and followed the girl as my heart hammered in my chest. It wasn't good that I was winded simply from him touching me in the way any gentleman would. The thought of brushing my lips by his or sliding my hand into his left me a little breathless. Casey would have a great time making fun of me later that night over it all. I smiled at the thought.
"Here we are." The woman pulled out my seat and laid the menus down before disappearing.
"I'll buy my own." I glanced up as my eyes met Easton's dark green gaze.
"No you're not." He smirked. "Women these days. Won't even let a guy buy you a meal."
"It's not that, silly." I put the menu down and tilted my head as I studied him. "I told you I want to be a food critic. I've been working on my skills for the last six to seven years in culinary arts. I usually order a huge sampler platter and eat a third of it. I want to taste everything that I can, but I'd hate for you to spend money and me not actually eat most of the food."
"Get the sampler and we'll share it. You can eat what you want, and I'll play cleanup crew." He shrugged and slid his hands into his lap. I watched
him, unable to say anything, but needing to memorize just how beautifully his features complemented each other. I wasn't spending the night with him, but my dreams would be filled with all sorts of depravity with him on center stage. I wanted to get it right.
"What?" He asked, his voice losing steam.
"I'm just taken by you." I picked up the menu and pressed my teeth into my bottom lip as I worked through the various offerings.
"Taken by me? I like the sound of that." He chuckled and picked up his menu as the waitress approached. After ordering two different fruity margaritas, I returned to my search.
He was watching me when I glanced up, the subtle desire in his eyes only masked by the warm smile on his full lips. "Did you find what you want?"
"Yeah," I mumbled. My response was a double entendre on so many levels, but I dismissed it, not wanting to fall for him just yet, or so hard that I had my heart broken again so suddenly. "Let's get to know each other a little better. Perhaps we're damned to become great friends."
"I like the sound of that, too." He picked up a chip from the basket in the center of the table. "If you need to take notes or voice record as you try each dish, ignore me and do it. My co-worker Kevin does it all the time when we eat together. He’s a food critic for the company I work for. I'm used to it."
I smiled and put my phone on the table next to me. "Awesome. I didn't want to appear too odd just yet."
"I like odd, especially when it looks like you do." He picked up another chip and took our drinks from the waitress, trying the strawberry one as I tried the mango one. "Switch."
I ignored his compliment and took his drink, giving him mine. I tried the chilly, pink liquid. I was almost surprised that he was willing to drink after a complete stranger, but I never was one to care too much about germs. Jackson hated sharing anything, even with me.
"Which do you like best?" he asked and sat his drink down.
"The strawberry one." I picked up my phone and typed in a few notes, not yet comfortable with voice recording in front of him. He'd yet to take his eyes off of me, which left me feeling rather adored, and yet slightly exposed.
"Then keep that one with you." He picked up another chip. "Tell me more about your love of food. I work for a company that critiques resorts and hotels all over the world. We have several food critics that we utilize, but I'm hoping that we move toward a more focused model where we hire eight to ten that exclusively work for us."
"I'm just a foodie with the ability to express myself well, I guess." I shrugged and picked up a few chips, sampling the dips that lay on the table between us. "I hope to one day work for a company like yours, or perhaps find a clear path to creating a name for myself. Then, maybe I can get my reviews to actually hold clout."
"That takes a lot of time, but it's worth it. I've been with the company for two years and have already worked my way through the ranks quite well. That wasn't without sacrifice though." He took another sip of his drink, his tongue snaking out to lick at the salt on the rim of the glass.
My stomach tightened as I entertained thoughts of how sexy it would be to slide into his lap and taste the drink from his tongue. Stop it.