“No, that’s okay. You probably need the fuel more than I do.” I let out a disparaging laugh, feeling more vulnerable now that Jayce isn’t a barrier between us. He and Elias decided to play a game of darts near the bar, so I’ve lost my protective barriers. Not that I need protecting from Luke.
Or perhaps I do.
He’s studying me again, but this time, his mouth lifts on one side. “Are you making an assumption, or were you watching me at practice?”
I think my face just caught on fire. And his voice sounds almost…flirty? The slightly mischievous gleam in his eye makes me think he’s flirting with me. Yet his reference to assumptions—again—sends prickles of heat all over me. I’m tempted to slapshot the hush puppy into his mouth and shut him up for good.
Instead, I nab the thing, break it in half, and hold a piece out to him. “Let’s share it.”
He grunts, then brushes my fingers with his when he takes it, making my pulse stutter. But he pauses for a fraction of a second, leaving me to wonder if he felt something, too.
“Sure. Thanks.”
While he pops the entire piece into his mouth, I dip mine into the remoulade sauce and bite off a chunk. As I chew, I scramble for something to say, determined to see if I can engage him in some kind of conversation that requires more than yes or no answers. Or grunts.
“Not a sauce person?”
He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head but says nothing.
Okay, this may be harder than I think. I’ll try a different tactic. “Beach or pool?”
He frowns. “What?”
I dip the remaining piece of my hush puppy in the sauce. “Which do you like better? Beach or pool?”
“Beach, I guess.”
“How about…spring or fall?”
“Both.”
“Why?” I finish my hush puppy, chewing as I wait for his answer.
He tilts his head. “Is this part of your interview process?”
I shrug. “Just conversation.”
He gives me a curt nod as if he’s willing to consider believing me, but I can tell he’s still not sure. “I like fall because of the cooler weather…” his voice lowers, “and holidays. And spring because of flowers.”
“Flowers? Any particular kind?”
His shoulders lift as he glances away.
Did my question annoy him?
But then his body settles as he studies the glass he’s turning between his fingers. “Roses. Orchids. My mother had a knack for growing both.”
Oh…not annoyance. The bottom of my determination falls out. “Sorry. I didn’t realize?—”
“No, you didn’t.” He runs a hand over his mouth. “I mean, it’s okay. How could you know your question would wind up so personal?”
The soft look he gives me is as disarming as his question. “I didn’t.”
One side of his mouth lifts into a half smile. “Like I said.”
His partial grin feels like a victory. I let out a short laugh. “Do you always have tobe right?”
Luke pushes the tepid beer away. “I don’t have to be, but I usually am.”
