By the time we show up at the restaurant, we’ve put ourselves back together.
More or less.
* * *
“I’m going to have theconfit du canard,” Courtney says after studying the menu for a minute. “What about you?”
“The lamb shank. Escargots to start, if you’d like to share?”
“Sure. I haven’t had them in ages.”
I spent hours trying to find the best places to eat in Montreal. Tonight, we’re at a French bistro, sitting by the window on the second floor. I couldn’t help but be pleased when we were shown to our table and Courtney proclaimed it “lovely.”
The waiter comes over, and I order our food and a glass of wine each.
“Your French is really good,” Courtney says after he leaves. “Mine is crap. I stopped taking French in grade ten, and I’ve forgotten almost everything I learned.”
I lean forward and place my hand on her knee under the table. “Would you like if I spoke French in the bedroom? Would that turn you on?”
She grabs her water glass, seeming a little flustered. “I think, um...to be honest, it would probably make me laugh.”
Our wine arrives, and Courtney takes a sip and smiles. “It’s good.”
I love seeing her drink wine. She claims she knows nothing about it, but she always seems to appreciate it.
And her sigh when she closes her eyes and pops the first bite of confit du canard in her mouth... Oh, God.
“This is amazing.” She cuts off a piece and puts it on my plate.
“It is,” I say after I try it.
Although I’ve had confit du canard a number of times before, it’s like I’m having it for the first time. That’s a common occurrence with Courtney. I feel like I’m doing lots of things for the first time, realizing I never fully appreciated them before.
Watching her eat crème brûlée is even more erotic than watching her eat duck. The noises she makes are positively sinful.
“That’s it,” I say. “We’re getting out of here.”
We make out in the limo on the way to the hotel, but it’s only a five-minute ride, so we don’t get any further than that. I wait impatiently as we check in. The receptionist insists on telling us where to find all sorts of things I don’t care about right now.
“Breakfast is included in your stay. The breakfast room is just through those doors. We have a buffet with—”
“Got it,” I say.
Can’t everyone tell that I just want to be alone with the beautiful woman on my arm?
“If you turn left and walk past the elevators, you’ll find the pool. The hours are—”
“Thank you, but we won’t be swimming.”
“The rooftop patio is available for all our guests. To get to the rooftop patio—”
“We’ll figure it out when we need to.”
“The fitness center...”
Finally, we enter our suite on the top floor.
“It’s so big!” Courtney exclaims.
