“Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a liar. It is a bad habit of mine, to take compliments poorly.”
“I’ll forgive you if you agree to have coffee with me,” he said.
This startled her. Now her New Yorker’s sense of safety kicked in. She knew nothing about him. Yeah, she could take care of herself and had a gun. She was wearing it under her coat right then, as a matter of fact. And she was used to meeting strangers. But for all she knew he was some kind of creep who trolled for women in the supermarket.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he said, amusement in his voice. “You’re thinking I may be a dangerous man. I won’t lie to you. There are things that are dangerous about me. But I can assure you you’ll be safe. We’ll be in public. And I’ll behave appropriately.”
“I’m not worried about that,” she answered honestly.
“Then what are you worried about?”
“I’m not in the habit of picking up strange men in the market.”
“Neither am I. But you’re an engaging woman. Not to mention gorgeous. Plus, I am intrigued after only moments of conversation. I want to see if the intrigue will hold or if it is just a matter of two strangers meeting. Are you the adventurous type?”
She smiled at that.
“I can be,” she answered honestly. “But I’m not certain it extends to a date with a total stranger.”
“Not a date. Not yet. Merely a cup of coffee and some conversation.”
She eyed him a moment, testing herself to see how she really felt. She realized she was incredibly flattered and leaning toward saying yes. Perhaps it was because he was so damned handsome and charming. But not slick charming. Not trying too hard. His manner was appealing—intriguing.
“All right. Coffee. But when? This storm promises to last days.”
“Then we should go now. We can finish our shopping later or first, whatever you decide.”
She laughed. “You cannot wait until after the storm?”
“No. You might come to your senses.”
“But it’s almost time for dinner…” she hedged.
He smiled at that, and he went from beautiful to striking in all of an instant. It was an easy smile, full of gregarious warmth. It lit his gray eyes, making the storms brewing within them come to life. They were positively hypnotizing.
“Then perhaps I should take you to dinner,” he said smoothly. “It’s only right. Especially if I plan to keep you out in a storm.”
“It isn’t storming yet,” she pointed out.
“But it will be by the time we’re done. Come, let’s finish your shopping. Then we can drop your groceries off at home and I can take you to dinner. I know of a lovely all-natural restaurant not far from here. They do organic farm to table exquisitely. It’s called Moo Cluck Baa.”
Renee laughed at that. “What a delightful name. I wonder that I’ve never heard of it. I’m usually keen about organic restaurants.”
“This one is in Midtown.”
“In the heart of the city? During a storm?” she said, surprised.
It would mean getting in a car with him. Unless he meant to ride the subway with her. She wasn’t sure she was up to walking very far in this cold.
“I’m not certain that’s a wise idea,” she said doubtfully.
He shrugged. “All I can do is promise to deliver you safely to your door at the end of the evening. Nothing else I could say to you would convince you. It’s your choice.”
“Can I wait to decide until after I finish shopping for my groceries?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ll accompany you about the store and finish my shopping as well. We can get to know one another a little better so I am less of a stranger to you.”
“That sounds harmless enough.”
“So, tell me, are you a direct shopper or are you the sort who wanders the whole store?”
“Well, that depends. I do have a list and usually keep to it. However, sometimes when I am hankering for new or different things, I take to wandering in search of them.”
“And what are you in the mood to do tonight?”
“I think I shall be as direct as possible, given the coming storm and the fact that I have company. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m a wanderer for sure. I never know what it is that I want and I also have very particular tastes and needs.”
“Oh?”
“I have to eat very cleanly—only organic. Canned and most preserved foods are out unless they are packaged without preservatives, which is not so easy to find. So I mostly eat a raw diet.”
“Do you have a condition that makes these your needs?”
“It is part condition and part desire. I am simply sensitive to organophosphates and many preservatives. There is no real name for the condition.”
“Well, I try my best to eat as naturally as possible, but I do sneak a few things here and there. Like candy corn. I love candy corn. But only in the fall. For Christmastime it’s candy canes. For Valentine’s it’s chocolates. Easter it’s—”
“Chocolate bunnies?”
“Peeps,” she said. “Marshmallow Peeps.”
He made a face and she laughed.
“Well, I suppose you can be forgiven your holiday binges. What do you do when no holidays are forthcoming? Like the wide expanses of summer?”
“Oh, summer is strictly ice cream. Actually, ice cream is all year-round, but I only eat all-natural brands. My favorite is—”
“Chocolate?”
“Strawberry. Although I sometimes switch to chocolate or even vanilla. Or all three in a Neapolitan. Then again, there is butter pecan…”
“I get it. You haven’t met an ice cream you didn’t like,” he said with a chuckle.
She sighed dramatically. “Alas, it is true. Woe to all innocent tubs of the stuff. What about you?”
“I don’t care much for ice cream.” He laughed. “There’s no need for you to look so horrified. I do have a sweet tooth, but it leans elsewhere.”
“Such as?”
“I like cultural desserts. Italian. Russian. Indian.”
“That sounds very adventurous. But how do you do that and remain true to the restrictions of your diet?”
“You have to search carefully, but you can find purists. Especially in and around the city.”
“I’ll forgive you if you agree to have coffee with me,” he said.
This startled her. Now her New Yorker’s sense of safety kicked in. She knew nothing about him. Yeah, she could take care of herself and had a gun. She was wearing it under her coat right then, as a matter of fact. And she was used to meeting strangers. But for all she knew he was some kind of creep who trolled for women in the supermarket.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he said, amusement in his voice. “You’re thinking I may be a dangerous man. I won’t lie to you. There are things that are dangerous about me. But I can assure you you’ll be safe. We’ll be in public. And I’ll behave appropriately.”
“I’m not worried about that,” she answered honestly.
“Then what are you worried about?”
“I’m not in the habit of picking up strange men in the market.”
“Neither am I. But you’re an engaging woman. Not to mention gorgeous. Plus, I am intrigued after only moments of conversation. I want to see if the intrigue will hold or if it is just a matter of two strangers meeting. Are you the adventurous type?”
She smiled at that.
“I can be,” she answered honestly. “But I’m not certain it extends to a date with a total stranger.”
“Not a date. Not yet. Merely a cup of coffee and some conversation.”
She eyed him a moment, testing herself to see how she really felt. She realized she was incredibly flattered and leaning toward saying yes. Perhaps it was because he was so damned handsome and charming. But not slick charming. Not trying too hard. His manner was appealing—intriguing.
“All right. Coffee. But when? This storm promises to last days.”
“Then we should go now. We can finish our shopping later or first, whatever you decide.”
She laughed. “You cannot wait until after the storm?”
“No. You might come to your senses.”
“But it’s almost time for dinner…” she hedged.
He smiled at that, and he went from beautiful to striking in all of an instant. It was an easy smile, full of gregarious warmth. It lit his gray eyes, making the storms brewing within them come to life. They were positively hypnotizing.
“Then perhaps I should take you to dinner,” he said smoothly. “It’s only right. Especially if I plan to keep you out in a storm.”
“It isn’t storming yet,” she pointed out.
“But it will be by the time we’re done. Come, let’s finish your shopping. Then we can drop your groceries off at home and I can take you to dinner. I know of a lovely all-natural restaurant not far from here. They do organic farm to table exquisitely. It’s called Moo Cluck Baa.”
Renee laughed at that. “What a delightful name. I wonder that I’ve never heard of it. I’m usually keen about organic restaurants.”
“This one is in Midtown.”
“In the heart of the city? During a storm?” she said, surprised.
It would mean getting in a car with him. Unless he meant to ride the subway with her. She wasn’t sure she was up to walking very far in this cold.
“I’m not certain that’s a wise idea,” she said doubtfully.
He shrugged. “All I can do is promise to deliver you safely to your door at the end of the evening. Nothing else I could say to you would convince you. It’s your choice.”
“Can I wait to decide until after I finish shopping for my groceries?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ll accompany you about the store and finish my shopping as well. We can get to know one another a little better so I am less of a stranger to you.”
“That sounds harmless enough.”
“So, tell me, are you a direct shopper or are you the sort who wanders the whole store?”
“Well, that depends. I do have a list and usually keep to it. However, sometimes when I am hankering for new or different things, I take to wandering in search of them.”
“And what are you in the mood to do tonight?”
“I think I shall be as direct as possible, given the coming storm and the fact that I have company. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m a wanderer for sure. I never know what it is that I want and I also have very particular tastes and needs.”
“Oh?”
“I have to eat very cleanly—only organic. Canned and most preserved foods are out unless they are packaged without preservatives, which is not so easy to find. So I mostly eat a raw diet.”
“Do you have a condition that makes these your needs?”
“It is part condition and part desire. I am simply sensitive to organophosphates and many preservatives. There is no real name for the condition.”
“Well, I try my best to eat as naturally as possible, but I do sneak a few things here and there. Like candy corn. I love candy corn. But only in the fall. For Christmastime it’s candy canes. For Valentine’s it’s chocolates. Easter it’s—”
“Chocolate bunnies?”
“Peeps,” she said. “Marshmallow Peeps.”
He made a face and she laughed.
“Well, I suppose you can be forgiven your holiday binges. What do you do when no holidays are forthcoming? Like the wide expanses of summer?”
“Oh, summer is strictly ice cream. Actually, ice cream is all year-round, but I only eat all-natural brands. My favorite is—”
“Chocolate?”
“Strawberry. Although I sometimes switch to chocolate or even vanilla. Or all three in a Neapolitan. Then again, there is butter pecan…”
“I get it. You haven’t met an ice cream you didn’t like,” he said with a chuckle.
She sighed dramatically. “Alas, it is true. Woe to all innocent tubs of the stuff. What about you?”
“I don’t care much for ice cream.” He laughed. “There’s no need for you to look so horrified. I do have a sweet tooth, but it leans elsewhere.”
“Such as?”
“I like cultural desserts. Italian. Russian. Indian.”
“That sounds very adventurous. But how do you do that and remain true to the restrictions of your diet?”
“You have to search carefully, but you can find purists. Especially in and around the city.”
