Page 41 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

“No.”

“Okay, Hadley’s is a little bit unique. Everything here is fresh farm to table.”

I grunt my approval.

“I’ll give you a moment to look over your menus,” she says before leaving.

“You do that a lot?”

“Huh?” I ask.

“You’re always grunting.”

“Why use words when you don’t need to?”

She sighs like this is exhausting. “Because the English language is so full of beautiful words.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“It’s too much work sometimes,” I admit.

“I can’t see how you might feel that way. I always feel like I’m bursting with so many things to say.” She says it with this passion in her voice that draws me in like a dog on one of those retractable leashes. She probably doesn’t know she’s doing it, but it’s like she’s the master and I’m the loyal hound waiting for her command.

“I’ve noticed.”

She gets this offended look on her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can unwad your panties. It’s not a bad thing, sweetheart.”

“Excuse me! My panties are not wadded. I got the kind that don’t give wedgies.”

My mind turns impossibly blank.

She slaps her hands over her mouth like she can’t believe she just admitted that in a crowded restaurant on a higher-than-normal volume.

More than a few people are looking at us now.

This non-date is going swimmingly.

“So, this istheLucas Hensley?”

I look up, and the guy from some of my favorite action films is standing in front of us.

“Hey, Owen!” Anabelle says.

“Alexis says you guys are just friends. But that’s not what I’ve heard,” Owen says in a teasing voice.

“You’ve been around Mrs. Wheaton too many times,” Anabelle states.

His expression softens from the joking one before. “We only want to see you happy.”

“You don’t need to pity me. I’m already happy.”

He looks between us and nods. “Hm. I can see that.”

“You’re the worst!” Anabelle scolds.

Owen laughs and waves as he steps away. “I’ll be sure to send you a wedding gift.”

“We’re just friends, Owen!” she calls.

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