Page 57 of Give Me a Shot

“I think I’ve been twice? Maybe,” she said. “But I’m glad you chose a place that we could discover together.” She gave him a broad smile, and he felt all tingly.

“Me too,” he said. He was also quite happy that the place wasn’t very busy. There were five or six people seated at the bar and maybe ten total in the large section they were in, partitioned by a half-wall.

As the waiter left with their orders, including the signature Reuben sandwich and a Wagyu truffle burger, a group of people walked in. Then another, then another. Jess looked over her shoulder then back at Mo.

“I wonder what that’s about?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, becoming increasingly uncomfortable. It almost looked like a tour bus had let out with the way they were streaming in the door. The decibel level in the room went up dramatically; the people were in high spirits and had no problem expressing it. The waiter returned with the tomato soup and beet salad they’d chosen as appetizers. Mo focused on his soup. The first few mouthfuls helped, but when he glancedup at Jess to ask about her salad, she was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” Jess asked.

He felt bad because he’d let himself get distracted from her.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“No, you’re not,” she said.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re stroking your beard,” she said.

Mo stopped midstroke.

“Yes, I was, but is there a reason I shouldn’t?” he asked, lowering his hand to rest on the table.

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I think you touch your beard when you’re uncomfortable,” she said. “When you’re anxious or dealing with feelings you don’t want to show, you reach for your beard. Stroking, scratching, smoothing. I noticed it in the first meeting. And with that woman at your shop. It’s your ‘tell,’ I think.”

Mo was dumbfounded. He was so shocked he’d stopped breathing and his body’s demand for air forced him to take a breath, which pushed him back into himself.

“I…” He needed another breath. “I don’t even know I’m doing it sometimes. You noticed that?” he asked.

Jess shrugged.

“Kind of,” she said. “Unfortunately, with the Faire, there have been opportunities for you to be uncomfortable. And when you kind of apologized if you weren’t talkative in your truck, I remembered that you’d done it right before you offered me a ride. It looked like you were going to pull it off your face. Which would be terribly unfortunate.”

At first, Mo couldn’t do anything but blink.

“What do you mean?” he finally asked.

Jess chuckled and waved him closer. He leaned toward her.

“The beardreallyworks for you,” she whispered.

“Oh,” he said, leaning back as she had. He hadn’t planned on shaving his beard anytime soon, but if Jess liked it, it sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere. “I won’t shave it.”

“Good,” she said, smiling. He wasn’t sure what to do or tosay next, so he scooped another spoonful of soup. It was halfway to his mouth when a collective shout erupted from the large group of people. He jumped, the spoonful of soup sloshing back into his bowl. The group started singing, and Mo’s skin felt too tight.

Jess had jumped as well, but instead of looking at the group as Mo had, she was looking at him.

“You know,” she said, catching his attention. “I’m pretty good. This salad was surprisingly filling, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat my entrée.”

Mo looked at her plate. She’d only eaten about half, and she’d said she was hungry when she arrived.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

The group started clapping along to their song, and the sound set his teeth on edge.

“Yeah, why don’t we ask the waiter for doggie bags and get out of here?” Jess sat up straighter and turned in her seat, looking for the waiter.

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