This made me feel special in a way nothing else ever had. I’d never forget it. Major had just found his way back into my heart.
Major
I didn’t have one fucking clue why this garden had Nan looking at me with stars in her eyes, but I was grateful as hell.
I might hate the bastard, but Cope was one smart son of a bitch. He didn’t half-ass anything. He researched and did things right. For someone so damn cold, he sure knew the right things to do to win a woman. Must be his excessive brains.
“This is my favorite salad . . . and my favorite dressing.” Nan’s pleased tone had me looking up from the bed of walnuts, what looked like questionable cheese, and strawberry slices on my salad. She was beaming at me as she picked up her fork. “You thought of everything.”
Cope had, of course, made sure all her favorites were served tonight, and he had even arranged for a couple of servers to wait on us. This salad looked gross. I wanted cheddar cheese, ham, some boiled egg, bacon bits, and good ol’ Ranch dressing. This shit did not belong on a salad. How was I supposed to eat this?
I began to wonder what other things Nan loved to eat. I hoped to God it got better than this.
“Since we wouldn’t have a menu out here for you to choose from, I wanted to make sure you enjoyed your meal,” I replied, mentally preparing myself to eat the shit on my plate. Who the hell ate strawberries with lettuce? That just seemed wrong. Where were some nice fat croutons when you needed them?
“Thank you. Tonight has been perfect so far. If you bring out olive salad muffuletta bruschetta next, I might be yours for life.”
I was from Texas and had lived near Louisiana most of my life. So I knew what the hell a muffuletta sandwich was. However, I wasn’t sure what bruschetta was, and I was almost afraid to find out. I also didn’t like olives. I didn’t like the way they smelled or tasted. If that was coming out next, I wasn’t sure I would be able to chew and swallow without retching.
As if on cue, the servers appeared with silver trays full of what looked like toast with olive shit on it. Dammit all to hell.
“Ahhhh! I can’t believe you knew this!” Nan squealed and actually clapped her hands as they set the nasty-smelling olive mess on her plate.
The smile I was attempting to keep on my face was falling. Eating that salad had been hard enough. This was going to kill me.
As the server came to my side of the table, he set the same hard toast things on my plate, but mine were topped with ham and cream cheese.
“Because you don’t eat olives, sir,” the server said before turning to leave.
“You don’t eat olives?” Nan asked, studying my plate.
I might have been in love with Cope at that moment. “Uh, no. I don’t,” I replied, with one of my grins that won me women’s phone numbers everywhere. “But I might change my mind after watching you get all excited over them like that.”
Nan smirked and took a bite of her nasty olive thing. I followed her lead and ate my safe ham and cheese spread on crusty bread thing. I guessed Cope didn’t want me blowing my cover by vomiting olives everywhere. Smart man.
When the wineglasses were filled, Nan once again beamed at me. The red wine they poured into her glass was—no surprise—her favorite and not easily found in the States. Of course. Nan wouldn’t drink a wine easily found at the grocery store like the rest of the folks in Florida.
The main course wasn’t anything I recognized. Nan was, of course, thrilled when the server announced halibut filets in a phyllo wrap garnished with lemon scallion sauce. I was skeptical. I liked fish and lemon, but the other stuff was sketchy.
“Was this prepared by Bleu Chevalier?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.
The server gave her a small smile. “Yes, as was the rest of the meal.”
Nan turned her awed gaze to me. “Not only did you choose my favorite foods and take the time to know what each one was, but you hired my favorite chef. No one can prepare halibut the way Bleu does.”
Damn, Cope was the man. Jesus, he had even gotten the chef she loved. I was in! She’d be in love with me before the night was over. No telling what other surprises Cope had in store for us. “I’m trying to show you I’m in this time. Completely,” I said.
Nan studied me a moment before nodding her head in acceptance. “I see that.”
He’d done it. He had won Nan over for me. She was mine now. I could finish this, and we could all move on with our lives. Nan would be safe, and I would be living a life of excitement and thrills. I just had to prove myself this time around. Thanks to Cope, I was going to get that chance.
Nan
Although he had gone above and beyond anything I’d ever experienced from a man, I didn’t invite him in. I wasn’t going to fall into bed with him again. I didn’t trust my heart not to get involved too fast. And maybe after the kiss he gave me outside, I wasn’t all in just yet. Sure, he’d just given me an incredibly romantic night, and that should have had me panting to get his clothes off, but it hadn’t. Something was missing.
The rush of excitement or anticipation, maybe? I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I wouldn’t be sleeping with Major tonight. Not yet. I needed to want him that way first. I wasn’t going to have sex with him just to thank him for the thoughtful evening.
The kiss, it just . . . wasn’t it. There was an emptiness to it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t feel what I wanted to feel. What a girl expects to feel. I just felt lonely. My heart felt alone.
Major
I didn’t have one fucking clue why this garden had Nan looking at me with stars in her eyes, but I was grateful as hell.
I might hate the bastard, but Cope was one smart son of a bitch. He didn’t half-ass anything. He researched and did things right. For someone so damn cold, he sure knew the right things to do to win a woman. Must be his excessive brains.
“This is my favorite salad . . . and my favorite dressing.” Nan’s pleased tone had me looking up from the bed of walnuts, what looked like questionable cheese, and strawberry slices on my salad. She was beaming at me as she picked up her fork. “You thought of everything.”
Cope had, of course, made sure all her favorites were served tonight, and he had even arranged for a couple of servers to wait on us. This salad looked gross. I wanted cheddar cheese, ham, some boiled egg, bacon bits, and good ol’ Ranch dressing. This shit did not belong on a salad. How was I supposed to eat this?
I began to wonder what other things Nan loved to eat. I hoped to God it got better than this.
“Since we wouldn’t have a menu out here for you to choose from, I wanted to make sure you enjoyed your meal,” I replied, mentally preparing myself to eat the shit on my plate. Who the hell ate strawberries with lettuce? That just seemed wrong. Where were some nice fat croutons when you needed them?
“Thank you. Tonight has been perfect so far. If you bring out olive salad muffuletta bruschetta next, I might be yours for life.”
I was from Texas and had lived near Louisiana most of my life. So I knew what the hell a muffuletta sandwich was. However, I wasn’t sure what bruschetta was, and I was almost afraid to find out. I also didn’t like olives. I didn’t like the way they smelled or tasted. If that was coming out next, I wasn’t sure I would be able to chew and swallow without retching.
As if on cue, the servers appeared with silver trays full of what looked like toast with olive shit on it. Dammit all to hell.
“Ahhhh! I can’t believe you knew this!” Nan squealed and actually clapped her hands as they set the nasty-smelling olive mess on her plate.
The smile I was attempting to keep on my face was falling. Eating that salad had been hard enough. This was going to kill me.
As the server came to my side of the table, he set the same hard toast things on my plate, but mine were topped with ham and cream cheese.
“Because you don’t eat olives, sir,” the server said before turning to leave.
“You don’t eat olives?” Nan asked, studying my plate.
I might have been in love with Cope at that moment. “Uh, no. I don’t,” I replied, with one of my grins that won me women’s phone numbers everywhere. “But I might change my mind after watching you get all excited over them like that.”
Nan smirked and took a bite of her nasty olive thing. I followed her lead and ate my safe ham and cheese spread on crusty bread thing. I guessed Cope didn’t want me blowing my cover by vomiting olives everywhere. Smart man.
When the wineglasses were filled, Nan once again beamed at me. The red wine they poured into her glass was—no surprise—her favorite and not easily found in the States. Of course. Nan wouldn’t drink a wine easily found at the grocery store like the rest of the folks in Florida.
The main course wasn’t anything I recognized. Nan was, of course, thrilled when the server announced halibut filets in a phyllo wrap garnished with lemon scallion sauce. I was skeptical. I liked fish and lemon, but the other stuff was sketchy.
“Was this prepared by Bleu Chevalier?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.
The server gave her a small smile. “Yes, as was the rest of the meal.”
Nan turned her awed gaze to me. “Not only did you choose my favorite foods and take the time to know what each one was, but you hired my favorite chef. No one can prepare halibut the way Bleu does.”
Damn, Cope was the man. Jesus, he had even gotten the chef she loved. I was in! She’d be in love with me before the night was over. No telling what other surprises Cope had in store for us. “I’m trying to show you I’m in this time. Completely,” I said.
Nan studied me a moment before nodding her head in acceptance. “I see that.”
He’d done it. He had won Nan over for me. She was mine now. I could finish this, and we could all move on with our lives. Nan would be safe, and I would be living a life of excitement and thrills. I just had to prove myself this time around. Thanks to Cope, I was going to get that chance.
Nan
Although he had gone above and beyond anything I’d ever experienced from a man, I didn’t invite him in. I wasn’t going to fall into bed with him again. I didn’t trust my heart not to get involved too fast. And maybe after the kiss he gave me outside, I wasn’t all in just yet. Sure, he’d just given me an incredibly romantic night, and that should have had me panting to get his clothes off, but it hadn’t. Something was missing.
The rush of excitement or anticipation, maybe? I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I wouldn’t be sleeping with Major tonight. Not yet. I needed to want him that way first. I wasn’t going to have sex with him just to thank him for the thoughtful evening.
The kiss, it just . . . wasn’t it. There was an emptiness to it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t feel what I wanted to feel. What a girl expects to feel. I just felt lonely. My heart felt alone.
