Page 65 of You First
And a little high to be in his bed at all.
“I do hope you let me take you one day,” he said. “Camping, I mean.”
She gave the idea some thought. “I’d be willing to give it a try.”
Gray looked pleased. “It’s fun. The dogs love it. Oscar would love it, too.”
Meredith’s breath caught at the mention of her son. He would want Oscar to go with them? Just the fact that he thought to include Oscar made Meredith want this distant, hoped-for future all the more. Could it really be hers?
Happiness — a reckless and dangerous emotion — bubbled up inside her. Meredith knew not to let herself trust it just yet, but it was so tempting.
“I’d like to take you other places too. Namely on a real date,” he said, eyeing her solemnly. “Is it okay to say that?”
She tried to keep her breath even. They were playing with fire. Playing pretend, though her feelings were so real. But this was just talk, right? Not promises.
“I think we can talk hypothetically,” she conceded. “Hypothetically, where would you like to go?”
“A hypothetical date?” he teased, his eyebrows climbing along with her pulse. “Oh, that’s easy. If I get to take you on a hypothetical date, we’ll go toLa Bouteille d’Orin Paris.”
“La-what?” she asked, feeling at once like an idiot.
But he just laughed again, making her cheeks grow hotter. “La Bouteille d’Or.It means The Golden Bottle. It’s my favorite restaurant in Paris.”
“Okay, well, Mr. World Famous Author, I’m a simple girl. Despite two years of French in high school, I don’t remember much, so you’d have to order for me.”
“Oh, sweetness, I was already going to order for you becausewhenwe go toLa Bouteille d’Or,you have to try thecarré d’agneau.”
“See, now, you’re just showing off,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Carré d’agneauis rack of lamb. Bet you didn’t think I’d know that.” Meredith wasn’t about to explain that she knew this only because she’d had to act out a restaurant scene in French class sophomore year.
Gray shook his head, chuckling, and crooked a brow at her. “You said you were a simple girl, but I don’t believe that for a second. Simple girls don’t carry around copies of Ian McEwan books in their purses, and they don’t know how to take care of someone who’s having a seizure.”
Her breath hitched.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m paying attention. They don’t listen to indie folk bands like Bon Iver, either. Thanks for introducing me to them, by the way. I’ve downloaded all their albums.”
Meredith blushed again, thinking of the day he’d caught her singing “Blood Bank” in his kitchen. “I didn’t tell you I was listening to Bon Iver,” she said.
“Like I said, I’m paying attention.” The look in his eyes made her stomach somersault. “So, back to this hypothetical date. Before thecarré d’agneau,we’ll have the crab avocado, and for dessert, the crème brulée.”
It may never happen, but Meredith was enjoying the game they were playing. “I’ve never had crème brulée,” she said idly.
Gray’s focus lasered in on her. “You’ve never had crème brulée?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not much experience with French cuisine. My family’s idea of eating out was Mexican or pizza.”
“Okay, you need to try crème brulée. Like tomorrow.”
Meredith giggled. His wicked smile returned.
“You think I’m joking.”
This made her giggle more.
“I’m not joking. Let’s go to Bonefish Grill tomorrow night.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he blazed on.
“Before you say no, this is not, I repeat, not a date.” His faux stern expression was absolutely adorable. “When we do eventually go on a date, you will know it — And you won’t be driving.”
