Nick finally remembered to get his phone from the truck, although he kept his promise and jogged out there barefoot and shirtless. Good thing it was dark. While the chili was heating, they exchanged numbers and finished getting dinner ready.
He got the reaction he’d wanted from arranging the place settings at opposite ends of the long table. She thought it was hysterical.
“Now that I made you laugh, I’ll move one.”
“No, leave it.” She put down the bowl of crackers she’d brought in. “It’s like a scene in a movie.”
“All right.” He’d rather sit closer to her, but if the setup tickled her fancy, he’d go along. He fetched the bowls of chili, left one on the plate closest to the kitchen and the other on the far end. “Which spot do you want?
“The one closest to the kitchen door, please. I’ll grab the salads if you’ll bring the cider. I’ll get us each a fancy glass, too. And we should light the candles.”
“It’s not very romantic to be ten feet apart.”
She grinned. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“What about the bowl of crackers?”
“Good point. I’ll bring out a second bowl so we can divvy them up.”
“Or I could just move my stuff down to this end.”
“Nah, let’s do this. It’ll be fun. Besides, if we’re ten feet from each other we stand a better chance of actually eating this meal.”
He smiled. “I’ll agree with that.”
A few minutes later, after taking a bite of her delicious chili and praising it to the skies, he gazed down the length of a table that seemed to have grown several feet. “You’re really far away.”
“So are you, but this is good. While we eat, we can talk about what comes next.” She started on her salad.
“Well, I was thinking we could have fun in that claw-foot tub. And then—”
“I mean tomorrow.”
“You want to see me tomorrow?” That was encouraging.
“I have the day off. The salon’s closed on Mondays. But I’m guessing you—”
“Yeah, I’m working all day. But I’m free tomorrow night.”
“I’m not. I’m getting together with Beth and Fiona so we can…” She paused. “I mean, we usually have dinner once a week, and—”
“Hey, you don’t have to dance around the subject. I’d be surprised if you and your friends didn’t compare notes after you’ve met up with your bachelors. Guys do the same.” He dug into his chili. Making love to her was better, but the chili tasted damn good.
“I won’t be giving them intimate details.”
He swallowed a bite. “You can tell them anything you want. That’s up to you.”
“You’re not worried about—”
“What kind of guy tries to muzzle his girlfriend?” He glanced up. “Am I allowed to call you that?”
“Yes, you are, and yes, some guys try to muzzle their girlfriends. Some husbands try to do the same to their wives. And succeed in many cases.”
“I can guarantee Charley never attempted that with Henri. She would have gone up in smoke.” He hesitated. “Is that one of the reasons you’re never getting married?”
“I’m sure that factors in. I’ve listened to plenty of clients whose lives are dictated by their husbands.”
“Doesn’t have to be that way.”
“I guess not.” She gazed at him. “Did anybody notice your torn shirt?”
“Rafe. He thought he was teasing me when he said you’d probably ripped it in a fit of passion. I told him that’s exactly what happened.”
“You said that?”
“Do you mind?”
She looked unsettled. “I… not really. It’s the truth. What else did you tell him?”
“That we had a hot episode in the attic and you’re turned on by my sweat. I had to assure him we didn’t have full-out sex. He knows I’m not in the habit of packing condoms.”
She blew out a breath. “Well, then.”
“I’ll add one more thing. The conversation was respectful of you. We’re a bunkhouse full of guys, which might make you think of locker-room talk. It’s not like that. Mostly because Charley was not like that. He civilized us.”
“I wish I’d known him better. But he never came into the salon. He was strictly a barbershop guy.”
“So were all of us until Lucy talked Matt into taking the plunge in February.”
“If she hadn’t…”
“We wouldn’t be sitting at this long table staring at each other.”
“Funny how things work out.”
“Yeah, funny.” Would they have had this conversation if he’d been sitting within touching distance? Maybe not.
“Rafe must have known you were interested in me or he wouldn’t have remarked about the shirt.”
“He knew. All of them did, except CJ. I never told him. He’s the type who would have tried to talk you into going out with me. I didn’t want that.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“Speaking of who knows what, did you say anything to Fiona?”
“She picked up on our behavior, so I told her pretty much what you told Rafe, that we had a hot time in the attic and your sweat and pheromones drive me crazy.”
“My faro-whatzit?”
“Pheromones. Mammals and insects secrete them.”
“To what purpose?”
“Choosing a mate, although humans usually aren’t aware of—”
“Choosing a mate? Are you kidding?”
“No, but I wouldn’t take it literally. I think it just means we’re sexually compatible.”
“That’s a fact.” What a long damn table. He ate faster.
“In any case, it looks like tomorrow won’t work out. Tuesday I’m back at the salon, but I—”
“Unless you want me to come by after you get back from Fiona’s.” He held his breath. He might be pushing it with that suggestion, especially after the mating discussion.
“Just for a couple of hours? Or to spend the night?”
“That’s your call.”
“I can’t imagine kicking you out of my bed once you’re in it.”
He sighed with relief. “Good. Text me when you’re leaving Fiona’s and I’ll meet you here.”
“Then it’s official. Two nights in a row qualifies as sleeping together.”
“Who says?”
“I do. You hear about one-night stands, but nobody talks about two-night stands.”
“Because that would sound ridiculous.” He should be happy with a second night and let it go at that. He couldn’t. “Is tomorrow night a spontaneous, what-the-hell thing or are we setting a pattern?”
“A pattern of you spending the night on most nights?”
“Right.”
“Clearly I like having sex with you.”
“Same here.” His chest tightened. Would it be thumbs up or thumbs down?
“And having you run into town every night to stay a few hours and leave sounds… disrespectful to you.”
Better than nothing. “I don’t see it that way. If you’d rather—”
“I’d rather have you stay the night. That takes it above the level of a booty call.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Eva, where you’re concerned, I have no pride. Put me on speed dial and let me know you want me. I’ll be there.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not just sex with us. You’re not scratching an itch. You want me. Maybe it’s pheromones and maybe it’s more than that, but like I said, when we make that connection, you’re all in. I’ll take that feeling whenever I can get it.”
“Hm.”
If they weren’t separated by ten feet of table, he’d have a better chance of gauging her reaction to that speech. He sure as hell didn’t want her to put him up every night because it was the considerate option.
She took a sip from her fancy glass of cider and put it down. “I’ll tell you one thing about talking across the length of this table.”
“What’s that?”
“It makes the discussion feel weighty.”
He doubted it was the table’s fault, but if she wanted to blame a piece of furniture, he didn’t care. The subject was weighty. She believed she was destined to follow in her Aunt Sally’s footsteps. Inviting a man for nightly sleepovers might not fit with that program.
He’d retreat for now. “Okay, tell you what. Forget I asked. We’ll take this one day—or rather one night—at a time.”
She smiled with relief. “Works for me.”