Page 4 of Eternally Yours
His smile returns with that little chuckle of his again. “No, I suppose not. Although most people here do.”
“Well, then I guess that makes it pretty obvious that I’m not from around here.”
The waiter chooses that moment to return to our table, pouring us each a glass of what looks like expensive wine with a promise of returning shortly with our meals. We both take our time savoring the wine, falling once again into a deep silence as we examine one another.
After what feels like hours, when really it must have only been a minute or so, I decide it’s time for introductions since he’s made it clear he has no intention of leaving.
“I think this would be an appropriate time for introductions; what do you say?” My statement causes his beautiful face to break into a genuinely amused smile.
I outstretch my hand in his direction, waiting for him to take hold of it. When his strong, calloused hand grabs onto my dainty one, my brain falters at the sheer difference in size. His hand alone completely engulfs mine.
I didn’t have the chance to see him standing, but clearly with the little amount of him I’ve seen so far, this man is huge in every sense of the word.I wonder what else of him is huge...
A blush forms over my heated cheeks as the thought crosses my mind. I give him a timid smile, fearing he may be able to read where my thoughts just went. “Cecilia Rose, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman.”
I can physically feel the blush on my cheeks deepen from the simple comment, and judging by the way his eyes light up at my reaction, he can tell the effect he already has on me.
“Silas Hayes, at your service.”
“At my service? Dangerous choice of words. What if I were to claim needing a foot massage?”
“We’ll get to that later,” he delivers his words with a smile and a wink.
“Wow, someone’s cocky.” I giggle.
“Just one of my many traits,” he says with a heartfelt laugh, clearly amused with himself, which gains him a smile from me.
Our food arrives shortly after, and it turns out whatever Silas chose on my behalf is absolutely amazing.Five stars to the chef.The conversation continues to flow easily between us with no awkward moments of silence.
We go around asking each other questions like where we’re from. Me, the small town of Elora, Ontario. Him, New York, born and raised. How long have I been in New York, and how am I liking it so far? About a month, and besides the amount of foot traffic, I love it. What do I do for work? I tell him all about the event planning company I work for and the upcoming event Emma and I are working on.
His facial features show genuine interest in the things I’m saying, which is a big contrast to what I’m used to. Most men I’ve been on dates with in the past have asked me the same question, but when I get into details of what I do, they seem bored or change the topic quickly. It’s fair to say that not many of them were given a second date.
When in return I ask him about his career, he answers evasively with a simple, “professional athlete.” But he gives no further details.
I can tell by the way he breaks eye contact to look down at his now empty plate and starts fiddling with his fork that this isn’t a subject he wants to elaborate on atthe moment. So, I decide not to pry any deeper on the matter. Everyone is entitled to some privacy.
We each go on to ordering dessert while finishing off the rest of the wine bottle, deep in conversation about everything and anything, from childhood memories to the disgusting food truck on Sixth Avenue.
Once our plates are cleared and the wine is done, the waiter comes back with the check that Silas insists on paying since he technically crashed my dinner, even though it turned out to be quite a delightful evening.
Watching him take a final sip of his remaining water, I stand from my seat and begin to slip into my double-breasted beige trench coat, fastening the belt in place. With my back to the table, I hear a distinctive choking sound before it turns into a coughing fit.
I spin around quickly to find Silas banging his chest with one fist, while his other hand rests over his mouth as he tries to stop himself. I stand frozen before him, unsure if he needs help or not.
Once he regains control of the situation, he clears his throat with his focus entirely on me and begins to stand. The higher my eyes travel, the wider they become.I swear, this man must be as tall as Bigfoot.
“OH... DEAR... GOD...”
Chapter three
Silas
Here kitty, kitty, here.
“OH... DEAR... GOD...”
