gently and she buried her face in his chest. He smiled and wrapped his arms more fully around her before he pressed his mouth against the soft auburn crown of her hair. She smelled of vanilla and honeysuckle from the shampoo and conditioner in her bathroom. His smell matched hers since they had shared the bathroom this morning, but it was different than when it mixed with her natural scent of fresh and clean mixed with the snowy breezes coming in off the lake.
They skated for another half an hour until he could see her legs were shaky from exhaustion. Skating required use of specific muscles and since she’d never skated before, he knew she would be sore tomorrow. It was nearly lunchtime when they changed out of their skates and left the park.
“You hungry?” he asked as he reached for her hand and they walked toward the street.
“I could eat,” she said with a relaxed grin. “That was fun. I’m glad you talked me into it.”
“Me too.” The snow was still falling and the air felt colder. Matthew wanted to take her someplace cozy and warm.
“You ever eaten at Park and Field restaurant?”
“No, but I’ve heard it’s good.”
“You’ll love it.” He hailed a cab to take them to Logan Square.
Park and Field was a local family-owned restaurant that featured classic farm to table cuisine. It reminded him of his grandparents’ farm with the fresh food, the locally brewed craft beers, and the comfortable spaces to dine and drink. There was a large fireplace and dozens of deep leather sofas to sit in comfortably for hours. Upon arrival, Matthew chose a roughhewn wooden table close to the fire and the waiter brought them menus.
“Everything is good here,” Matthew said when he saw her carefully studying the menu. When the waiter returned, he ordered a French dip sandwich and Aubree ordered a pan roasted chicken sandwich.
The man waiting on them wrote down their order and asked, “Anything to drink besides water?”
“What’s your recommendation Mr. Cocktail?” Aubree asked Matthew.
He grinned. “Dropping the Gloves.”
“Um…” Aubree glanced back at the drink menu. “Dropping the Gloves, then.”
“Same for me,” Matthew said.
Once the waiter left Aubree looked back at the menu.
“So, Russian vodka, apple cider, cinnamon simple and ginger beer?”
“Yep. I hope you like it.” He had a feeling she would.
“Me too.” A crimson blush stained her lovely cheeks.
“So, no real boyfriends. Nothing serious?” He continued their earlier conversation.
“Not really.”
“And the dating app, it’s been unsuccessful?”
“So far, I just wish…” She hesitated.
He didn’t press her and didn’t push for answers. He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to talk in her own time.
“Why is it so easy with you?” she suddenly asked.
“Is it?” He hadn’t wanted to assume, but it was easy—amazingly easy to be with her.
“It is…” She seemed to still be puzzling that over in silence when their drinks and food arrived.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said with one small, but utterly sweet, smile.
“Maybe so,” she replied.
As they ate, he peppered her with questions about her life. She was an only child but had a dozen cousins from her parents’ siblings and most of them still lived in Maine.
“The holidays are loud but fun. Never a dull moment.” She added with a bemused look. “How about you? Your grandparents raised you, right? But no cousins?”
“None,” he said with a rueful smile. “When I went to England for University, I met an American and we became like brothers. But we’re nothing alike. He lives here in Chicago. You have to meet him soon.”
“What does he do?” Aubree asked between bites of her sandwich.
“He’s in the bar and restaurant business. We have similar tastes and interests.” Matthew finished his French dip sandwich and polished off his cocktail. Between the vodka cider drink, the warm fire, and Aubree, he really had no desire to go anywhere. He could have stayed here with her forever, drinking good cocktails and just talking.
“Want to play a board game or something?” He nodded at a stack of used boardgames sitting nearby.
“Sure, I haven’t done that in ages.” Aubree went over to the table and sorted through the games. She returned with one under her arm called Masterpiece which involved looking at famous works of art and trying to guess their value by bidding against one another at auctions.
“No checkers or chess?” He teased.
“I’m not great at either of those,” she admitted. “I don’t like games that involve a ton of planning and strategy. This one,” she tapped the cover of