Page 63 of Drive
“And we’d have breakfast and work on this together…” Her eyes narrowed on him slightly. “… as friends? You wantthat?”
Again, he wanted to reach for her, but he kept his hands on the countertop, a posture of even composer that didn’t match the tumult that hid behind his chestwall.
I can do this. I can just be her friend. For as long as it takes,he lied tohimself.
And then he lied to her. “Sure. That’d begreat.”
Chapter 16
True to his word,Jacques picked her up at nine on Saturday morning, and they headed to Dwyer’s downtown for breakfast. They had to wait outside for about five minutes for a table, but then one of the servers with a nametag readingSonyaled them to a two-seater booth near the back and pushed menus towardthem.
“So, what are you going to get today?” Jacques asked, giving her his lopsidedgrin.
For about the sixth time that morning, she questioned the wisdom of agreeing to see him again. Even as friends. Jacques seemed more than capable of handling the newly established boundaries in their relationship, but the playfulness of his smile and the masculine purr of his voice made her throat dry and her palmssweat.
Still, both when he’d told her goodnight the evening before and when he’d picked her up that morning, he hadn’t even touched her. In fact, since last night when their hands had danced the most intimate dance of her life, he hadn’t laid a finger onher.
And it wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him. When he’d left last night, she’d almost felt bereft. His company was Technicolor in her black and whiteworld.
“Waffles,” she said, feigningcomposure.
“Oh, man,” Jacques said with unmistakable longing. “I haven’t had waffles inyears.”
Rainey’s brows shot up. “Years? I don’t think I could go a month without waffles,” she said, shaking herhead.
This confession made Jacques laugh, but then his face settled on a wistful smile. “Grandma Lucille used to make waffles for me and Pal.” A faraway look came into his eyes, and his smile lost a little of its sadness. “Pal wanted his with Steen’s syrup, but she always made mine with powdered sugar. Even when I gotolder.”
“I eat mine with powdered sugar, too,” Rainey hoarse whispered as though confessing a crime, and Jacques’s surprised gaze shot tohers.
“Seriously?”
Rainey shook her head. “That’s how I was going to order them,” shesaid.
His smile grew, and his eyes met hers. “I know what Iwant.”
“But you have to get it with hash browns,” sheinsisted.
“Why’s that?” he asked, looking no lessamused.
“Because you should always get the hash browns.” Didn’t everyone know this? “I mean, why even go out for breakfast if you aren’t going to order hashbrowns?”
His deep laugh broke from him and rolled over her. He had such a great laugh. And for whatever reason, he found her funny. Rainey decided not to question it, but she loved the way it felt to make himlaugh.
“Is that a rule?” he asked, stillchuckling.
“Oh, yeah. It’s arule.”
Sonya returned to their table. “Y’all ready to order?” she asked, pulling a pencil from behind her ear and snagging a notepad from the front of herapron.
“Yeah,” Jacques said, swallowing his mirth and sitting up straight. “We’ll have two orders of the Belgian waffles — with powdered sugar,please.”
Rainey bit down on her smile when he met her eyes over the menu. “And two orders of hash browns,” headded.
“Anything to drink ‘sides water?” Sonya asked, jotting downnotes.
Jacques raised a brow in question atRainey.
“Coffee.”
