then burst out laughing. "Hey, the bicycle is mainly for work. It's close to where I live; I hate to think I'm polluting the environment just to go two blocks."
Uh-oh, Marie thought, red flag number one going up. This was Cecil talk. Not that she didn't believe in protecting the environment. It had been her, after all, who'd suggested Books & Bistro use recycled paper products. But something about the idea that David would have anything in common with Cecil Barnes made her faintly sick to her stomach.
"Glad you liked the chocolates," he said, changing the subject. "I'm a big fan myself."
Marie raised one eyebrow. A male chocoholic, now that was something. "Next you're going to tell me that you like Tater Tots, and devour potato chips by the handful."
David laughed and hung a left down the main street, leading to campus. "I am a bit of a junk food junkie," he said, looking sideways with a mischievous grin. "But please don't hold my gourmet ice cream against me."
Marie's mind painted a really naughty picture of her and a very naked David getting creative with a pint-size container on her kitchen floor.
She blinked, then leaned forward—instinctively jamming her hand under the car seat.
David pulled his car to a stop at one of the only two traffic lights in town.
"Mind telling me what you're doing?"
Marie slammed back in her seat, acutely aware of her blunder.
"Looking for rice cakes?" she said with a sheepish shrug.
David laughed so loudly that he didn't see the light change.
"Huh?"
He collapsed in hilarity again, white knuckles gripping the wheel.
"Light's green," she said, with a nudge.
"Oh, right," he said, straightening himself in his seat with another burst of laughter.
He put his car in gear, then pulled up to a nearby curb beside the Cafe Ole Coffee Shop.
David shut off the ignition, then turned to look at her.
"Now, why on earth would you think I'd hide rice cakes under my passenger seat?"
Marie sunk her chin below the collar of her coat.
"Wild guess?"
"That I'm a closet health nut?" David chuckled again. "No worries there, sweetheart."
"Come on," he said, scooting around the car and opening her door, "let's go in and get some coffee with plenty of white sugar. And cream."
Marie stayed, nailed to the passenger seat by his guileless eyes. What in the world had she been thinking? That he would hide an addiction to rice cakes, just as holistic Cecil had concealed his penchant for fast food?
David gave her a crooked smile and Marie's heart beat faster.
"Coming out?" he asked, his smile broadening, "or am I going to have to come in there and get you?"
Her heart beat faster still, just imagining what that might entail.
"No, it's all right," she said, composing herself. "I can manage."
David held out his hand, but she steadied herself against the car door instead and climbed out. No way was she going to touch him now. Now that her palms were slick and her cheeks hot pink.
David took her by the elbow anyway and helped her out of the car.
"Are you always this chivalrous?" she asked, "Or is it because I remind you of your grandmother?"
Marie caught a twinkle in his eye and sensed he was thinking something that she didn't care to know.
"You bring out the gentleman in me. What I can I say?"
"Ah, so you finally admit," she teased, as they crossed the sidewalk to the cafe, "that you're not always so gentlemanly."
"Guilty," he said, with a sheepish look as he held back the heavy glass door. "But I can promise you this. I've never, ever done anything a woman hasn't wanted me to do."
Marie swallowed hard and selected a table. Something about David made her believe that a woman would actually get down on her knees and beg for his manly attention.
Not her, she decided with a shake of her head. She was getting to know him, that was all. As a friend. But Marie hadn't had a male friend in—she didn't know how long. That was exactly her problem. She'd gone from one long-term relationship to the next. What she needed now was a breather, not a man who left her breathless.
"So, what would you like?"
Marie looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.
"Coffee," she said, realizing the waitress had appeared at their table. "Coffee and an orange scone, please."
"Scone?" David asked, with feigned indignation. He leaned in with a gravelly whisper, "Not nearly enough sugar."
David turned and directed his attention to