Damn, she should have suggested takeout and stayed in bed with him. Now, she wasn’t going to be able to avoid the subject.
“Depends on how you define close. The company I work for is a family business, so we’re close in proximity. Outside the business…we’re going through a rough patch. My ex worked for me, and I fired him. But my father, evidently, had future plans for him, so I’m in the doghouse.”
Isaac frowned. “Why would your father side with your ex over you?”
A sense of vindication pulsed through her. She tipped her head to look back with an emphatic “Thank you.” Then resettled against him. “I was beginning to think I was the twisted one. Somehow my father and brothers didn’t think my fiancé getting blown beneath his desk by not one but two of his employees was grounds for firing. Breakup, sure; firing, no.”
Isaac stiffened behind her. His fingers stopped stroking her arm and curled around it instead. He turned his head and leaned back to look at her. “Excuse me?”
She smiled at his anger on her behalf. “What? The firing part or the getting-blown-under-his-desk part?”
“Both. What the fuck?”
Ava’s chest loosened like an untied knot, and she laughed. “God, I’m so glad that’s over. And considering I met you because of it, I’m also glad it happened.”
The waiter came and poured their wine. Ava was surprised to see Isaac lift the glass, swirl, and sniff before he tasted, as if he were a natural wine lover.
“Mmm,” he hummed, tipping his glass toward her with a grin. “Nice choice.”
She smiled, loving the layers she was discovering in Isaac. “I seem to be making lots of nice choices lately.”
“Firing your ex chief among them.”
Ava laughed. “Depends on who you ask. My father’s getting ready to retire. My ex had been slated to promote, and firing him upset the apple cart. I’m hoping that without the daily management of the company between my father and me, we’ll be able to repair our relationship. Right now, it’s not particularly civil.” She forced a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “Anything that doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”
“Sometimes.” His gaze went distant and turned sad. “And sometimes it just plain breaks you.” He leaned in and kissed her head, whispering, “I’m glad yours is making you stronger.”
There was a story there. A story she wanted to know. Before she could ask, Tim stopped at their table and slid two platters in front of them with various meats, sauces, and sides. Tim pointed out all the delicacies, which included beef, chicken, pork, sausage, shrimp, salmon, potatoes, corn bread, beans, coleslaw… The list went on and on.
Ava’s mouth was still hanging open in shock at the sheer amount of delectable food when the man offered a friendly smile. “We’ve got plenty of to-go boxes,” Tim told her, “and everything heats up real nice in a microwave. You two enjoy now.” He winked at Isaac. “Nice to see you with such pretty company for a change, son.”
When Tim wandered over to another table, she lifted a brow at Isaac. “Who do you usually come here with?”
“A motley crew of bikers.” He poised the serving fork over the tray. “What’ll it be?”
Ava shook her head at the enormity of the feast. “A bite of everything is about all I can manage. This could feed a small country.”
He grinned. “Usually only feeds me for a few days.”
After he’d served them both, Ava picked up her fork. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Brisket,” Isaac said, sinking his fork into the tender meat. “This brisket is the best I’ve ever tasted.” He darted a smile at her. “Don’t ever tell my mom I said that.”
Ava was still smiling when Isaac picked up the brisket and ate it off the fork—without ever shifting the utensil to his right hand. His eyes closed on a sound of pleasure, but he finished chewing before he told her, “Amazing.” He pointed with his knife, which remained in his right hand. “Try it.”
Ava obliged. The tender meat melted in her mouth. Spices and flavor exploded on her tongue, and she made a sound similar to Isaac’s. “Oh my God, you’re not kidding.”
“That’s music to my ears, people.” Tim paused at the table, topping off their wineglasses before moving on.
Isaac was on his third bite, his utensils never changing hands, his fork remaining facedown. And this time, he used his knife to push sauce onto the brisket before eating.
Ava set down her own utensils and took a sip of wine, watching Isaac eat. He’d laid his cloth napkin on his lap and only rested his knife to use the white linen. He relished his food, taking his time to savor, and never complained about having to drink wine with BBQ.
“What?” he asked, his hands pausing mid-bite. Concern crossed his face. “You don’t like it?” He lowered his fork and looked behind her. “Let me get Tim. We’ll find you something else. Their menu is—”
She covered his hand before he lifted it to wave down the owner. “No. I love it. I just noticed the way you use your knife and fork. Where’d you learn that?”
He frowned at his plate for a moment before awareness crossed his features. Something else flashed across his handsome face, but Ava couldn’t figure it out before it was gone.