A Flighty Fake Boyfriend (Men of St. Nachos #2) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,19

assured him he could get anything he wanted, but he kept asking me what I planned on having.

“I’m torn between the pasta and the sea scallops.”

He bit his lip. “Those sound good. I love scallops.”

“Then why don’t you order those, and I’ll order pasta, and we can share. Would you like that?”

“Okay.” He lowered his gaze. “Is your friend paying for this too? I don’t want to take advantage.”

“If it matters, I’ll find a way to pay Laurie back. Not for the suite because honestly, that’s on him for upgrading me like that. But the incidentals shouldn’t be at his expense.”

Epic leaned over to whisper, “But this is ridiculous. We serve the same things at Bistro, and they’re nowhere near this expensive.”

“We’re paying for the view, the experience, and the chef’s reputation. It’s all right. I haven’t had a vacation in six years. I assure you, I can afford it. Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we?”

I handed him the wine list. “Find us a nice wine, unless you’d prefer a cocktail?”

“Wine with dinner, I think. Cocktails later?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He bit his lip. “Maybe we should request the sommelier?”

“Oh, indubitably.” I put on a snooty accent. “Let’s do.”

I ended up getting Brussels sprouts for the table along with spring pea and prosciutto tagliatelle while Epic settled on the sea scallops. We got a bottle of crisp, dry white wine the waiter recommended to enjoy with dinner. After the meal, we ordered an artisanal cheese platter and twenty-five-year-old port.

“I can’t believe I’m drinking port that’s older than I am while eating after-dinner cheese.”

“If this meal doesn’t give me a heart attack, we can do it again tomorrow.”

“Don’t even joke.”

I leaned back and studied Epic’s profile. He had patrician features, which I found odd because his actions were pure squirrelly California boy. Outgoing and approachable—maybe even a little frivolous—wasn’t Epic’s entire story. There was something distinctly noble about him in spite of his antics.

And I knew nobility. There was likely to be a lot of it around this weekend.

Luis carried himself in a way that made people respond with automatic deference. He drew the eye. He commanded attention. People naturally made way for him in social gatherings based on a subtle undercurrent of expectation that was probably several centuries in the making.

There was no comparing the two, and yet they were opposite sides of the same coin. They both felt things deeply. They were both willing to work for the things they believed in.

Apparently I gravitated toward a certain type of man.

I wondered what would happen if Epic was older.

Or if we were dating for real.

Could he ever be interested in someone like me, or was I simply an adventure to him?

He lifted his drink and sat back in his chair. “I really like port.”

“Me too.” In the glow of candlelight, we shared a quiet companionship that warmed my heart. Who knew? Epic understood when to fill a silence and when to let one linger for a bit.

When the waiter arrived, I signed the meal to the room.

I didn’t ask if there was somewhere I could smoke. Better to apologize and all that. Instead, Epic and I made our leisurely way along the convoluted pathways toward the beach. The landscape featured ground lights and up-lit trees and palms wound around with thousands of fairy lights. A slightly chilly breeze blew Epic’s thick dark hair all over, but it mostly fell back into place. Mine, of course, curled—especially in humid weather. There would be no controlling my slightly too-long mop this trip.

As we walked, I noticed Epic had wrapped his arms around himself.

“Cold?” I slipped out of my jacket. “Here. Take this.”

“I don’t want to take it from you.”

“You know I live in Canada, right?”

“Do you?” He stared at me blankly. “I guess I didn’t know that. How’d you end up there?”

“Oh, that’s right. I was going to tell you more about all that.” I shrugged. “Well, I had the languages and skill set to work in National Security, but it was 2008, and everyone was still paranoid about the Middle East specifically and Muslims in general. I didn’t like the direction the country had taken back then. I couldn’t see myself breaking codes or analyzing bits of information for the US’s war on terrorism.”

“I understand. Why work for HUD when you can build houses?”

“Right, well, HUD has its place, but I was very young and had wild ideas. Not all of them were good ones. I traveled in Southeast Asia for a while