Exposed Exposed (Dom Nation #1) - E. Davies Page 0,65
but she grinned at me as she stuck a fork into her bowl and carried it to the table. “I could do tuna casserole next time.”
Okay, that was worse. “Oh no,” I told her, wagging a finger. “Not in our microwave.”
“See?” Pam winked and made a big deal of brushing her hand through her shoulder-length curls. “A girl needs her omega-3s. Also, didn’t you bring in that broccoli casserole last month…?”
Damn it. She had the memory of an elephant. I held up my hands and surrendered, then grabbed my lunch box from the fridge. “Fine, fine,” I laughed. “No hot fish.”
“Even I have limits,” Pam agreed. “Oh, by the way… I heard Hannah telling everyone her teeth are happy now.” She winked at me. “Anyone would think you’d make a great dad.”
“This again,” I groaned. Usually I patiently told her the time wasn’t right for me. We’d kept up that back-and-forth for five years now. But today, I blushed as I settled at the table, meticulously arranging everything I’d packed. “Is that so?”
Does Rex want kids one day? Or will I be enough to keep him busy? That was enough to keep me daydreaming all day. I cleared my throat and cracked the seal on my bottle of sparkling water.
Pam was instantly suspicious. “You’re looking radiant. What’s his name?”
“You should be a detective, not a dental hygienist,” I complained, but my smile crept across my face anyway as I opened up my sandwich container.
“Spill,” Pam insisted. “If I told you about Greg’s mole, you can tell me his name.”
I nearly choked on my water, and she gave me a helpful slap on the back.
Pam was one of my few friends, and I’d been bursting to tell someone all weekend about this. I so rarely had good news of my own to share—no kids’ achievements to brag about or exciting new cars to drive into work. And certainly no boyfriends to show off.
“It’s Rex,” I said. “We saw each other Saturday and Sunday.”
“And? Is it serious?” Pam’s fork hovered over her tuna salad as she watched me like a straight guy watched football.
“Pretty sure we’re… dating now?” I offered up, my own sandwich halfway to my mouth and all but forgotten. Is that what you call it? Would he be okay with that? Oh, God, I only just got him to admit he’s serious. I don’t know the protocol here.
“Whoa,” Pam gasped, stabbing her fork in her salad and reaching out for a high five. I transferred my sandwich into the other hand so I could meet her palm with mine. “You move fast!”
I laughed. “I’ve got a fraction of the dating pool options and a lot of pent-up feelings. Of course I fall fast.”
Pam’s curiosity was far from satisfied. “How old is he? What does he do? Is he cute? Of course he is. Do you have photos?”
I carefully chose the question to answer from that assortment. “As of Saturday, he runs a cupcake shop. It just opened.”
Pam stared at me and then snorted so hard she coughed. “A—A cupcake shop? Well, at least you can give him free dental exams…” She grinned, letting her expression fill in the rest of what she wanted to say, but we were technically at work.
I rolled my eyes. “I know.”
“What’s it called?” Pam dug in her pocket for her phone.
I should have seen that one coming. “Oh, God. No.”
“Fine,” Pam muttered and started tapping at her phone. “Cupcake shop… Saturday… new…”
I couldn’t stop her googling, so I wolfed down my sandwich at top speed and hoped for an escape.
“Daddy Cakes?”
My expression had to be a dead giveaway.
Pam squinted and tapped at her phone. “And it’s got a theme of… and it’s next door to…”
“Shh,” I urged, glancing behind us at the door. We got up to some rowdy conversations, but I didn’t want the others to hear.
“Dom Nation?” Pam exclaimed, her voice practically a squeak. “Slate!”
I said nothing. Nothing at all. Bit my lip, in fact, and stared at the table, my cheeks red-hot.
Pam was one of my closest friends, because after thirty the only way you made friends was at work. She knew about me and Isaac—sort of. She knew about the failed first dates I’d been on, and my last few years pining after a man who didn’t want me.
But I’d never quite filled her in on the finer details. I’d danced around them so she’d thought he was a homebody who liked to drop by my place for Netflix and