rase was gone from his head, but Wrench realized he was holding a flower and thrust it at her. A compliment. He was supposed to give her a compliment.
“You’re bendy,” he growled.
To his great relief, Lydia laughed tolerantly and accepted the flower. “Did you ask Graham about this?” she asked, drinking in the smell of it.
“Got his blessing,” Wrench said with a nod. What was he supposed to do next? “Walk on the beach?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Yeah.” Belatedly, Wrench remembered the advice about polite invitations, and the playful interaction between Jenny and Travis. “If you wish, my, uh, lady?”
That earned him a quizzical look. “Well, that sounds lovely, my, uh, lord,” she said. Wrench decided that it was mocking, but not unkindly.
Wait, was this a joke? He was supposed to laugh at her jokes. “Huh huh huh,” he attempted badly.
Lydia mopped off her forehead with a towel. “Mind if we swing by the kitchen on the way? I’m famished. We can make a picnic of it!”
“Great.” Eating food on a sandy beach in the dark sounded like a new level of torture, but Wrench was here for Lydia, and he’d accepted every level of discomfort that came with her. Gritty, ill-lit food was a small price to pay for a mate like her.
She tossed her towel back into her open door into the basket that waited there, and Wrench had to swallow at the way her lush body wiggled with the motion.
“Why don’t you go see what you can gather up for us from the kitchen,” she said. “And I’ll take a quick shower and put the flower in water.”
“I can do that,” Wrench agreed, though he’d much rather stay and observe the shower. The others had been adamant that he go along with her ideas if she countered with anything.
When he got to the kitchen, he wondered if he’d already erred; the place was bustling like a beehive. He stood near the back, wondering who he’d need to bother.
“You’ve betrayed me,” Breck hissed at him, elbowing past with a tray full of dirty dishes.
“What are you on about?” Wrench growled, dodging another server with a tray of clean cutlery who was dashing out.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Breck said, shaking his head. “Whether it’s the fact that you had to up and find your mate and steal a perfectly gorgeous woman from the open market, or that you would ask those buffoons at The Den about romance.” He made a rude noise with his lips. “Those rookies were all but celibate before they met their mates, and what they know about courtship would fit in a greased flip-flop.”
He deftly unloaded the tray into the sink for the busy dishwasher as he continued to berate Wrench. “Seriously, courtship? If you’re going to do Lydia right, and I certainly hope you will, you need good advice, knowledgeable advice, not the bumbling attempts of those idiots. They probably gave you a line about saying how pretty she looked and suggested a walk on the beach.”
“I need a picnic basket,” Wrench said.
“I know,” Breck said, rolling his eyes. “You suggested a moonlit walk before she’d had a chance to eat dinner, of course she’s going to counter with a dinner on the beach.”
Wrench blinked. “Well, yeah…”
“And they probably gave you a bunch of compliments to give her and tried to come up with thoughtful gifts that cost no money or some kind of ridiculous camp craft you could make.”
Wrench frowned. This was also true.
“Amateurs,” Breck said scathingly. “Compliments from you will never sound anything less than painfully rehearsed, and Lydia doesn’t want a crappy paper mache heart. Play to your strengths and keep your mouth shut. She’ll happily carry the conversation if you let her, so ask about her family, her spa, and her dancing, and let her do the talking. All you’ve got to do is listen when she’s talking and fuck her brains out when she’s done.”
That sounded far more useful to Wrench than anything the others had been able to tell him.
“Order up!” Chef hollered from deeper in the kitchen.
“There’s a basket by the door,” Breck said hastily.
As Wrench looked around for it, Breck added, “Cottage two is right off the beach and set up for you. Shower outside if you’re covered with sand.” Then he vanished with his tray to swoop up a pile of full plates to deliver to tables at the restaurant, leaving Wrench to gape after him.
Wrench found the basket, right by the back door and gave a grunt of surprise when he went to lift it; it was not the empty basket he expected to have to fill at the buffet, but already packed to the rim. He flipped open the lid to discover a blanket at the top, covering whatever wonders had been loaded into it.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, but Breck was already long gone.