Page 2 of SlapShot Sweetheart

“My apologies,MonsieurBatiste.”

“C’est vrai…” Theo said with an arrogant tone and waved his hand – and it went all over Aimee. Oh, she knew exactly why this stuck-up man was single. He was a jerk and a pig – a French pig – acochon, if she remembered the right word from French class in the seventh grade. She grabbed her napkin, covering her mouth to keep her laughter at bay… only to look up and meet Theo’s dark gaze that seemed to be even more frustrated.

“Is something funny?”

“No.”

“Ave you hadLa Poule au Pot?”

“I try to come here once a month as a treat to myself,” Aimee admitted, nodding as the waiter put the soup in front of her. “This is one of my favorite places, and I quite enjoy the atmosphere, which is why I suggested it.”

“Not because of the cost?”

Aimee paused, bringing her spoon to her lip to stare at Theo in horror.Did he actually just say that aloud?she thought wretchedly.Do I look like a money-hungry woman?

“What did you… Did you just imply that I picked this place because it was expensive?”

“Did you?”

“Oh my gosh, it is ridiculous that we are even discussing this – nor do I plan on sitting here for the next hour or two to argue with someone who doesn’t even have the courtesy to make an effort.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Goody for me.”

She saw him open his mouth, hesitate, and then shut it again as he struggled to hold back his temper. Who was this guy, and why was he in this sort of condition? It was obvious his lip was still bleeding as he dabbed it again, wincing. He remained silent, picking up his spoon, and she continued with her bite of the delicious broth that seemed almost buttery, flavored just right…only to hear a faint ‘plunk’ that struck her as strange, followed by Theo’s curse under his breath as he started digging frantically in his soup with the spoon.

“Is something wrong?” she asked curiously, lifting her spoon pointedly to take a genteel bite, slurping delicately on the side of the utensil – only to see him literally stick his fingers into his soup bowl and to her dismay, he held up a tooth and smiled at her, revealing a gap in front.

Histoothfell into the bowl of soup.

She sprayed her bite of soup that she’d just taken everywhere. Soup was on him, his shirt, the tablecloth, and it snuffed out the taper that had been flickering prettily in the middle of the table. He looked utterly shocked at her reaction. She was frankly stunned that his tooth fell out, and he dug it out like a toddler shoving his hand into a block of Playdoh… and heard him mutter something under his breath, something that was obviously foul in another language.

“D-Did you just…” she stammered.

“You spit on me?”

“I didn’t… well, I did - but your…was that your tooth?”

“Is this going to be a problem?”

“This is a problem now… or at least, it should be for you.”

“I just need to see the dentist again.”

“Again?Again? Is this because you’ve been beat up multiple times?”

“We won.”

“That doesn’t make it okay. You realize this, right? Fighting is wrong, and you’ve obviously got something going on on in your life for you to get beat up to the point that your tooth just falls out. This is not normal. None of this first date is normal… in fact, I’m going to call it.”

“Call what?”

“Time of death,” she muttered, disgusted. “You’re… nice, but this is not going to work out. You’ve got something going on in your world that you obviously needs to be handled on your part – and I’m not looking to wait for someone to mature to a point that they are ready to look for a relationship.”

“What?”

He looked frankly shocked and slightly dismayed, making her feel guilty for being so blunt, and honestly – she felt a little cruel being so open. She reached across the table to pat his hand gingerly in a modicum of comfort.

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