Page 22 of The Pain We Nurture

"Si, senorita. Hablas espanol con fluidez?" he rasped, arching an eyebrow with a litle smile. "Also, I'm very pleased to see that we're getting somewhere with talking, finally. Must've been the accent that loosened you up?" he teased her with a grin.

“I’m quiet, guarded even... but I'm not mute, you know,” Olivia teased, referencing his comment from a bit ago as they finished their appetizer. She licked her lips and sipped on some water.

She blinked slowly as he smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting adorably.

“Could have fooled me. In the car I was contemplating buying you a white striped t shirt and some white face makeup and red lipstick. Maybe some white gloves to complete the outfit. I figured you could mime and maybe be more comfortable,” he half laughed, running his hand down his slight beard in amusement.

She shocked both of them by laughing a bright, high lilt laugh. Throwing her head back and putting her hand on her breastbone. Tilting her head back down she wiped a tear away, clearing her throat and grabbing her water once more.

“Colin, you are so clever,” she giggled.

Olivia swallowed her water and gave the waiter a thankful smile as he placed her entree in front of her, removing the cover keeping her food warm. Her eyes widened in appreciation at the delicious food being unveiled between the two of them.

“And you are exquisitely beautiful, and fascinating. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before,” his confidently smooth voice floated across the table, suddenly stealing her joyful mood and replacing it with something else she couldn’t name.

Olivia’s breath hitched and her belly cramped slowly, heat infusing her insides as he pinned her with an innately sexual stare. Not even hiding his desire.

Something about seeing how open he was in his desire for her made her feel suddenly ashamed for daring to even entertain the thought of spreading her legs for him. She chastised herself, and her eyes narrowed as she gave him a very slight headshake in warning.

No.

You cannot go there, Olivia. Look at the way he's talking. This man will ruin you, and that is not something you can afford right now, she thought to herself, instinctively realizing this was true. Even without knowing him. Despite his polite demeanor there was something dangerous.

Seemingly unbothered by her reaction he let it go. Not commenting on it. The waiter offered more wine which he waved away, and ordered them a tea service.

Colin ate his lasagna slowly, even offering her a bite which she surprised the both of them by accepting. He took a bite of her fettucine and leaned back, preferring to watch her attack her duck entrée with gusto and eating his food much slower. Olivia answered his questions about the diner, though nothing inconsequential. Every now and then she gripped her right arm at her shoulder and elbow tightly when she would raise her fork for another bite. Her face betrayed a pained look she worked very hard to hide, but she could tell he still saw.

She was too young to have such pain, they both knew it.

Colin suddenly cleared his throat, and it looked to her like a pained expression crossed his own face before he spoke. “Do you need me to feed you?” he asked, his flirtation obvious.

“No. Thank you though. I think I can manage,” she said, switching her fork to her left hand, slowing her movements even more. But she was determined to not appear weak in front of him.

This is why I can't beat with my left hand, I just can't hack it. So uncoordinated, she thought miserably. Her mind started being inundated with thoughts of work.

“Do you play tennis?” Colin asked suddenly, readjusting himself in his seat and sitting back, drinking his tea leisurely.

“What?” Olivia giggled, in a rather good mood after eating and several glasses of Italian wine.

“Your arm... you keep holding it like it hurts. What happened?” he enquired, meeting her gaze confidently over his cup. Not content to let her finagle her way out of this one. And for not the first time that night, was seeing too much yet again.

Olivia’s face went pale as she looked away, licking her lips before biting them gently.

I guess I just literally can't run away from thinking about this shit, Goddamn...she thought to herself.

“It’s nothing, just a minor inconvenience from working too much,” she explained, not quite meeting his gaze.

He waited a beat before answering.

“At the diner? It was hurting when I met you, four weeks ago?” he quipped, placing his cup down and placing his hand on his elevated knee. “Impressive, how well you hid it chica.”

Olivia bit her lip again, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. Her creamy flesh shining brightly in the moonlight against the green material of her dress. The wheels of her mind turned, and he thankfully waited patiently as she worked out what she wanted to say.

“I don’t just work at the diner,” she said. She laced her fingers together tightly to stop them from shaking.

“No?” he pressed curiously, shooting the question across the table, feeling her bristling in response.

Olivia watched his face rather distractedly, seeing a muscle tick in his jaw.

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