She nodded. “A few times.”
Of course. That was where Frederic was from.
“But it’ll be cool to discover new areas.” She gave him a kiss. “Coffee.” She moved to get up, but he stopped her.
“Let me serve you.” Didrik got out of bed. “This whole project makes me feel like an investigative journalist—I love it!” He pulled on his boxers.
She laughed. “I can see you as a journalist!”
“It’s actually my dream job.”
“I thought being a historian was your dream?”
“It is. But if I hadn’t been a historian, I would have liked to be a journalist. I’ve written about history for a few periodicals, but I’ve always wished I could write investigative pieces.”
“You think traveling around Paris and Bordeaux, meeting winemakers, and going to museums counts as investigative journalism?”
He responded by throwing a pillow at her. “Shut up and let me pretend.” He sank down on the bed, laughing, and threw another pillow at her.
“I will absolutely let you pretend, and I’ll keep that dream in mind. We’ll be doing some filming, and you can deliver some serious,explanatory monologues to camera, with subdued lighting so we get that realMission: Investigateatmosphere.”
“Can we disguise the voice of someone we’re interviewing?”
“That would be perfect.” She nodded in agreement.
“So what’s your dream job?” He looked at her with curiosity.
“Working with wines. On TV.” She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“But if you weren’t doing that, what would you do?”
She thought for a moment. “I honestly don’t know, this is what I want to do.”
“What did you want to do when you were little?”
She laughed, shook her head. “No idea.”
“No cute dream job? Breeding cats, being a ballerina?”
“I don’t think so.” Her tone became slightly distant, as it always did when she didn’t want to get into something, so he didn’t pursue it. A second later she grinned at him. “How about you? What did you want to be?”
“Easy. A firefighter.”
“Oh, I can definitely picture you as a firefighter.” She drew him close, kissed him. “With a sooty face after rescuing a kitten from a burning building, with your helmet askew. And one of those big jackets with nothing underneath, just this fantastic naked chest.” She whispered in his ear, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. “Although these days I find historian the sexiest profession, without a doubt.” He could feel her smile against his ear. He loved being described as sexy by her.
“It’s great that you’re working with your passion.”
She nodded slowly, kissed him on the lips.
“Did your dad want to do similar work? He loved food and wine, didn’t he?”
Her smiled died away. “Yes. He mentioned it now and again.”
This was clearly a topic she didn’t want to discuss. Should he drop it? Or did she want him to ask? After all, she had said she liked the fact that he was curious about her.
“You don’t really seem to want to talk about your dad.”
She let go of him, moved away.
