“Of course.”
Tableclothsweregenius.Zoewasn’t fond of them for Halseth’s, nor at home, as she preferred the raw wood look. It suited the Pacific Northwest vibe better.
However, the long white tablecloths at the Italian place covered her bloated tummy nicely. If it was actually a baby bump, she might enjoy it, maybe, but instead, anyone who knew gushed that she was starting to show, but she was pretty sure it was just constipation and bloating puffing out her pooch and making her pants feel tight. Going for comfort and cuteness tonight, Zoe wore a rare dress. Simple, cotton—not a date dress—but no tummy compression.
Definitely not a date dress. It coincidentally showed off her legs, but Ryder couldn’t see her lower half anyway.
“Water for me too,” Ryder answered the server, mimicking Zoe’s order.
“You can have a glass of wine.”
“You can’t, so I’d feel bad,” he said, while the server waited patiently in his formal attire with his hands folded over his middle.
“If you order wine, I can smell it and dream.”
Ryder considered a moment, and ordered the house red. As the server walked away, he laughed softly and said, “I’m not sure if sniffing is imbibing, but I suppose you won’t be ingesting…”
“I always thought people were just trying to be funny about their cravings, but I’m craving wine—and I hate wine. I’m a beer sort of girl, but I want fermented grapes right now.”
“You know what they call alcohol cravings…” His glowy blue eyes lit up as he teased her.
“Shush. I work at least five evenings a week, thus I have no time to become an alcoholic, whether I want to overindulge or not.”
Ryder seemed to finally relax, his shoulders melting and he rested his forearms lazily on the table. Of course, in the fanciest restaurant in town, he would relax. “Early in my career, I learned to not try to outdrink clients or colleagues. It leads to sloppy work and a nasty habit.”
“I can imagine. Evan majored in business, and said half the learning curve was schmoozing, which meant partying.” Zoe copied his demeanor and took a long, relaxing breath. “How do your clients, or your boss feel, when you don’t drink them under the table? Doesn’t that reduce their liking of you?”
His eyebrows lifted, and he shook his head to add gravity to his answer. “I finally figured out to go up to the bar—alone—under the pretense of buying a round for everyone to show off my generosity, then I order myself a cranberry and tonic or something for myself, and whatever fancy drinks they want. Expensive, but worth it for the clear head.”
“Clever. I like it.” Zoe leaned in and tilted her head for more gossip. “Tell me more trade secrets.”
Suddenly shy, his cheeks flushed and he grinned with embarrassment until his dimple dented his cheek. “I don’t want to waste a rare night out talking about work. Second, I would bore you to tears within five minutes.”
“Then tell me something you do like about your job. When you get all excited and passionate about something, you light up and it is irresistible.” Zoe flashed a giddy grin, daring him to open up.
He snorted a laugh that shouldn’t be nearly so adorable, but it was cute on him.
Dammit, she wasn’t supposed to be flirting. If she hadn’t let it slip, that she’d broken up with Raphe, she could hide behind pretending she was seeing someone else. Without that shield… she’d already proven she was a sucker for Ryder Mallory.
“Maybe,” he said, holding her look and settling so solidly in the present, making her feel like the only person in the room. His wine slid onto the table, and he gently thanked the server, but his focus remained on Zoe. “How about tonight, no work, no babies, just you and me. Tell me something I would never guess about you.”
“Okay, I see where you’re going with this.” Zoe drew a long sip of water and pondered. “I’m really boring.”
“You are anything but boring. Come on. I can dig deep, but just go with whatever comes to mind.”
Lips pursed together, she looked around the room for inspiration. “Oh. Got one. I hate onions—or anything crunchy—in my guacamole. Avocado, salt, lime. That’s it. Everything else messes with the texture.”
“That sounded like work,” he teased. “Although, I like my guacamole as doctored up as possible. The works.”
“You won’t find that at Halseth’s,” she said, her smile widening as she studied him studying her. “Your turn. I’ll come up with something while you go.”
He looked around the table, at a few other tables, and scowled. “You know that thing where you tie a cherry stem in a knot with just your tongue?”
“Yes…” Zoe was already laughing, picturing it.
“I can do that.”
“Really?” A blush pinked her cheeks and she wiggled in her chair, the zing shooting straight to where she wanted to feel that tongue again. “Actually I’m not surprised.”
