Page 33 of Dreams and Reptiles

“Even better than the fried rice.”

“Good. I hope you don’t mind being my taste tester. I’m going to spend the next week trying out meals I can serve for my first retreat guests. They’ll be here next week, and I want to send them a menu ahead of time so we can make adjustments if needed.”

“They’re nuts if they don’t love this. I’m happy to taste for you anytime.” I grinned over a bite of tender mahi mahi, seasoned just right, and he got that saucy smile.

“You’ll taste for me, huh?”

I licked my lips and waggled my eyebrows. “I will. But I’ll also behave, as per our agreement. I’ll ask you some pertinent questions. How about… well, I know it’s not crickets, but what is your favorite bug?”

He burst out laughing. “Bug? Not sure I ever paid attention enough to have a favorite? That’s a silly question.”

“I know. I want to know all the silly answers.” I slid my hand over his on the table and played with his long, slender fingers, loving his soft skin and hoping my calluses weren’t too much of a turnoff for him. I’d tried not to think about what a young, sophisticated, intelligent guy like him found attractive about an older, ordinary, average guy, but I didn’t really care when he smiled at me.

“Okay, maybe bumblebees? They’re so cute and clumsy. How about you?”

“Bagworms.”

“Bagworms? That’s a thing?”

“They’re pretty cool, actually. Although, a whole bunch of them can totally consume a juniper or other conifer in, like, a few hours. But yeah, they build a strong bag out of silk and pieces of leaves and sticks to protect themselves. The males turn into moths, and the females lay eggs and die.”

“As usual, the females get screwed.”

“As usual? I don’t know, there are species where the females eat the heads off their prey.”

“Evolution is a thing,” he said with an amused smile. “Okay, here’s a silly one… which fictional pet would you want for your own? Gary the snail, Garfield the cat, or Santa’s Little Helper the dog?”

“The snail, obviously. Easy-peasy, no attitude.”

Francis giggled. “They’re slimy though.”

“I bet you’d pick Garfield, huh? You like a little attitude.”

He flexed his claws at me, and we both laughed. I hooked his chair with my foot and slid him closer. He stretched his legs across my lap, and we continued sharing silly trivia with each other for the next two hours.

Two dreamy hours of being in Francis’s orbit.

“Shoot, Francis, I’ve gotta go. I need to do one last check on my reptilian friends, as you called them.”

He linked his fingers around my neck and smiled at me, gazing up with those eyes. “This was fun. You’re fun. We should agree on our next date.”

“Absolutely. Unfortunately, I’m on shift the next two days, and when I’m off, I’ve got a crew coming out to start on my pond.” I couldn’t wait. We’d had several postponements, both my issues and the company’s issues, but it was finally happening.

“A whole pond? That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah? Think you’re ready for a tour of Chez Warren?”

He chuckled. “Chez Warren. Maison De Reve. We’re bringing French sensibilities to Soggy Bottoms. Oops, I mean Froggy Condoms. I mean Foggy Basin.”

“Do you sit around all day coming up with new ones?”

“They just come out. I don’t know what to say. The real name is the last thing that is on my tongue when I speak.”

He said tongue, and all I could think of was how much I wished we had time for a long make-out session, but tortoises wait for no man.

“Fire Boy, my eyes are up here,” he said with a laugh, and then he slid across to straddle my lap.

“You call me Fire Boy, but Francis⁠—”