Page 22 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
For fuck’s sake. Stop it.
I cleared my throat. “Favorite food?”
“Hmm. Maybe Italian? I love meatballs.”
It killed me to let that one go by, but I did. “Me too. Favorite restaurant?”
“Andiamo,” she said without missing a beat. “I love the tiramisu there.”
I nodded. “Good to know. Favorite movie.”
“Uh uh. I’m making you guess this one, smartypants.” She crossed her arms. “I gave you the last few.”
A smile pulled at my lips. “Let me think.” I rubbed a hand over the stubble on my chin, gave her a critical glance. “Well, it’s definitely something romantic with a happy ending, although you probably cry every time you watch it.”
“Guilty,” she said with a sigh. “My friends are always teasing me about how emotional I get at movies. But who doesn’t like a happy ending? There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
He laughed. “Believe me, I love happy endings. And I never said it was wrong. It’s sweet, actually.”
“Only you could make ‘sweet’ sound like an insult.”
“It wasn’t an insult, I promise. OK, let me think about this. Which chick movie is your favorite…I’d say Titanic, but I bet you hate that he dies.”
“He might not die!” she exclaimed. “We didn’t see him die, not exactly, so he might have lived!”
“Um, I think death was strongly implied.”
She jerked her chin at me. “Guess again.”
I thought for a minute. “Casablanca?”
“Nope. Too dreary at the end. But I do love that movie.”
“Is it some sort of Disney princess movie?” I asked, thinking that her taste might run close to my nieces’. Their favorite color was pink, too.
“It does have a princess in it, but it’s not a Disney movie.” She clapped her hands gleefully when I remained silent. “Haha, I stumped you!”
“I’m not stumped. Just give me a minute.” I pulled into the parking lot of the banquet hall and circled around to valet so Claire would only have to walk about ten feet, under a canopy, to the door. “OK, it’s not a Disney movie, but it has a princess and a happy ever after. Aha!” Putting the car into park, I grinned at her. “The Princess Bride!”
Her face fell. “Dammit! I thought I had you.”
God, she was so fucking cute. “You do have me. For a whole three hours.”
Her smile returned, a little smug this time. “During which you will not make fun of my taste in movies, clothes, colors, or anything else. You will say only nice things, so everyone will think you’re crazy about me.”
I couldn’t resist. “As you wish.”
* * *
Inside the hall, we checked Claire’s coat and found our place card, which indicated we were at table 12. I let Claire lead t
he way, admiring her ass in front of me. Suddenly she stopped and turned around, and I thought for sure she’d caught me looking at her butt, but instead of scolding me she put a hand on my chest and whispered in my ear, “Twenty bucks says that’s the singles table.” She nodded toward a table of awkward, miserable-looking people.
No one was talking, and everyone was staring at their phones, save the one guy who was making some sort of swan out of his napkin. “Wow,” I said. “I should have charged you more.”
She gave me her favorite dirty look and poked me in the chest. “Behave. Hey, what’s your last name, anyway? I never asked, and I’ll have to introduce you.”
“Woodcock.”
