Gavin smiles. “Okay, so our chosen professions are off limits. We’ve established that we’re single and where we’re from. What do you like to do when you’re not working?”
“I like to read.”
He looks surprised. “Reading, huh? What are some of your favorites?”
“Anything I can get my hands on really. Poetry, the classics, thrillers, mythology, dystopia…” I lick my lips suggestively and add, “romance.”
He smiles. “See, I knew there was more to you than just a pretty face. You’re smart.”
I shrug. “Reading doesn’t signify intelligence. It’s simply a great form of escapism—especially when you’re broke. My library card is well-loved.”
“Ah, Red. Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Downplay your intelligence. It’s obvious from the way you carry yourself. You’re observant, witty, and well-spoken.” He folds his hands behind his head. “If you ask me, it makes you even sexier, which I wouldn’t have thought was possible.”
I smile at the compliment. “Let’s get back to you. Where do you live?”
“About three blocks away.”
I smile at his willingness to divulge that information. “Hey, Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you ready to order some pie?”
He signals Sharon. “I sure am.”
Gum Smacker is back. “You two ready to order?”
Gavin nods for me to go first. “I’ll have a slice of pumpkin pie, please,” I say. “With lots of whipped cream.”
Sharon writes my order on her notepad and looks toward Gavin. “And what about you, sweetie?”
His eyes twinkle as he stares directly at me. “Pumpkin is my favorite. Load mine up with whipped cream too, please.”
She blows a hair out of her face. “Be right back with that.”
“Is pumpkin really your favorite,” I ask, “or are you just being cute to get in my pants?”
He smirks. “I thought we already established that your pants are wide open for me to jump right in.” He briefly peeks his head under the table. “Although…these pants that we speak of seem to already be missing. Sadly, I can’t take credit for that.”
“Clever,” I say. “Maybe I should’ve said panties, since I’m wearing a dress and all.”
He pouts. “Well, that answers that question.”
“What question?”
r /> “Whether or not you’re wearing any panties under that dress,” he replies.
And right on cue, Sharon is back delivering our pie. Her brows reach her hairline at Gavin’s comment but she chooses to walk away without a word. We both laugh at her quick retreat.
I nudge his foot under the table. “Hey, Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“You don’t know what kind of panties I’m wearing.” I take a big bite of pie. “Yet.”