Into The Fire - E. L. Todd Page 0,108
with a laugh.
“And getting fat from all the pastries,” I added.
Hawke smiled. “It doesn’t look like either of you girls struggle with that.”
Marie leaned toward me and whispered. “I like him more.”
I needed to get out of there before Marie embarrassed me. “Good night.” I grabbed Hawke’s arm and pulled him with me.
“Night.” Marie waved from the front door like an annoying parent.
Hawke chuckled as he walked beside me. “You guys are close, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
We reached his truck and he opened the passenger door for me. “Good friends are hard to find. It’s a good thing you two have each other.” He shut the door once I was inside then got behind the wheel.
“Yeah, she’s great. I do love her…even right now.” I looked at the house and saw her peeking through the window like a creeper.
He started the engine. “Hungry?”
“Always.”
“Good. You like Italian?”
“Always.”
He gave me a smile full of amusement. “You’re an easy date.”
I just hoped I wouldn’t be too easy.
***
Hawke stared at his menu across the table. His shoulders looked nice in his t-shirt. But I had a feeling they would look nice in anything he wore—and if he wore nothing at all. “I hate to ask this…” He looked up from his menu and his eyes met mine.
I tensed slightly as I waited for whatever he was going to say.
“Are you twenty-one? I was going to order a bottle of wine.”
The air left my lungs as I relaxed. “Yes. I’m twenty-two.”
Relief moved across his face. “Just wanted to make sure.”
How old was he?
When the waiter came, Hawke ordered the wine as well as his dinner. I did the same and handed my menu over.
Once we had nothing to look at, we stared at each other. I could make eye contact with anyone without feeling uncomfortable, but prolonged contact was awkward. However, Hawke didn’t struggle with it. He stared at me openly, but not intrusively.
I liked it.
He possessed obvious confidence without being obscenely arrogant. He knew he was good-looking and didn’t hide that fact. But he didn’t make it obvious either. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“I hate that question.”
That usual pleasing look was in his eyes. “Why not?”
“It’s too open-ended. Ask what you want to know and I’ll tell you.”
He kept his back perfectly straight in the chair. “Then that feels like an interrogation.”
I couldn’t deny that. “True. Let’s play a game instead.”
“What kind of game?” He raised his eyebrow like he was intrigued.
“I’ll ask you a series of questions and you answer them.”
“And that’s different how…?” He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“I’ll show you.” I cleared my throat. “Coffee or tea?”
“Coffee,” he blurted.
“Waffles or pancakes?”
“Waffles.”
“The beach or the snow?”
“The beach.” He narrowed his eyes. “Now you know so much about me.” Instead of being annoyed, he seemed entertained.
“Hey, this is important stuff.”
He chuckled. “Yes, waffles or pancakes is important to know.”
“What if I want to make you breakfast in the morning?”
His eyes darkened in obvious interest. I hadn’t realized how that could be interpreted until it was too late. His mind clearly went to a place I hadn’t anticipated. “Now you can make me waffles and coffee while sitting on the beach.” The slight smile from his lips never faded away.
“Exactly.”
“My turn,” he said. “Dinosaurs or sharks?”
“That’s a really weird question,” I said while laughing.
He shrugged. “I think it’s important.”
“Dinosaurs.”
“Leather or cloth?”
“Leather.”
“Rocks or sand?”
“Sand,” I answered.
He grinned. “Now I know your soul.”
“I guess you do.” I kept my hands in my lap and fidgeted with my fingers so he wouldn’t be able to see them. I was a little nervous and I couldn’t fight the feeling.
“Are you in school?” He glanced out the window before he turned back to me.
“Webster University.”
He nodded. “That’s a great school. What are you studying?”
“Business.”
He didn’t bother hiding his cringe. “Really?” He seemed to realize how rude he sounded because he said, “Sorry. There’s nothing wrong with that degree. I just didn’t expect it from you.”
“What did you expect me to major in?”
He shrugged. “Something interesting. Like art or music.”
“Well, I’m terrible at both of those things. You should see the finger paintings I made as a child.”
“I would love to.” He said it with complete seriousness.
I continued on. “I want to open my own bakery someday. It’s been my dream since I was young. But I wanted to get an education in business before I pursued it. I don’t know anything about running a shop or getting it started. And if things don’t work out, I have something