"As long as you don't fall in love with riding that bike," I emphasized.
"Darling, I'm not going to lie. I'm going to enjoy riding that bike probably more than any other bike I've ever ridden, but I won't fall in love with it," he reassured me, hiking my leg up around his waist. "The question is: Will you fall in love with the bike ride?"
"It's not possible for me to fall in love with any bike ride," I replied earnestly. "Not anymore, anyway," I added, working to keep the pain the words caused out of my voice.
His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he reached out to help me climb from the vehicle. "Let's eat," was all he said.
"How'd you find this place?" I asked as he held open the door of the restaurant for me.
"I asked Fran. I figured she wouldn't steer me wrong. Have you been here before?"
"No, I really haven't ventured out of Woodfalls much since I moved there. I guess small-time life has not caught up to me. Although, now that I'm here, it smells delicious," I answered as the scents of herbs and spices enticed my nose.
"So, why Woodfalls?" he asked once we were seated.
"I wanted something that was completely different than Florida. Changing seasons, snow and ice skating, things like that, so I drove until I figured I was far enough north to get all of those. We never really went on vacation again after my mom died, so if I ever saw snow, I really don't remember it."
"No ski vacations while you were in college?" he inquired, handing me a breadstick from the basket the waitress had placed on our table.
"What makes you think I went to college?" I asked.
"Did you?" he countered.
"Well, yeah, but it's presumptuous to think I automatically went. Plenty of people never go to college."
"Why do you get so prickly when I ask about your past?" he asked.
I debated his question for a moment before answering. "I'm just not crazy talking about it. It's not a time of my life I like to talk about," I said, letting him know he was entering no man's land again.
"Fair enough," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "What's your favorite color?" he asked, switching gears.
"It depends on my mood. What about you?" I asked, grateful he'd let the subject drop without making a big deal of it.
"I would have to say the same. Although, I have found recently I'm quite fond of pink," he said, leaning over the small round table to brush his thumb over my bottom lip to emphasize his point. "I'm sure different shades of pink will be my favorite for a while," he added, dropping his eyes to my chest to make his point clear.
"Do come-ons like that always work for you?" I asked, working not to blush at his innuendo.
"You tell me," he said, sitting back in his seat with a small smile.
"We'll see," I answered, laughing breathlessly.
"Ooh, good answer. Okay, dogs or cats?" he asked, switching gears again.
"I'm not really sure. I never had any pets growing up. Probably a cat though. I always had this dream that my dad would surprise me with a kitten or something for my birthday," I said, surprised at the wistful tone in my voice. "How about you?"
"I have a cat that gets taken care of by my neighbor while I'm away on my extended trips. He's a cool cat, but he holds a slight grudge when I leave him. I know not to arrive at my condo without treats and a toy," he answered in a warm voice that melted me inside. Who knew a man who loved cats would come across so hot?
"A toy?" I asked intrigued. "Do cats play with things other than strings or a paper ball?"
"He's not into the typical cat toys. He has a particular lid fetish."
"Lid fetish?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Like off of hairspray bottles," he explained.
I looked at him blankly, not quite sure that I knew what he was talking about, although he looked quite adorable trying to explain it.
"You know, the small lids that cover the spray nozzles," he said, holding his fingers about an inch apart for emphasis. Seeing my amusement, he plunged on.