Page 3 of Eternally Yours
Of course, he has to have a deep, gravelly voice to go with his godlike looks.
He reaches for the menu that lies flat on the table in front of me with a large, rugged hand and starts browsing through the options, like this is a completely normal situation. I’m at a loss for words with no idea what’s going on.
I lean in closer, hoping to catch his attention without gaining any from others around us. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re at the wrong table.”
Not looking up from the menu, he smiles, acknowledging he heard me before replying, “No, I’m pretty sure this is the right one.”
Just as I go to tell him he’s wrong, a waiter shows up at our sides, puts down a place setting for Mr. Handsome, then proceeds to ask if he can start us off with a beverage. But I’m too caught up in my head to pay any attention to the words beingexchanged between the two of them.
What the hell is going on!?
That is until the beautiful stranger turns his questioning gaze to me as if waiting for my response.Wait, did he ask me a question? Oh God, now he must really think I’m stupid; I should have been listening.I look up to the waiter to see if he’s still there, and yup, he’s there all right, also staring right back at me.Okay, now I’m positive he asked me a question.
“Excuse me?”
“Is that okay?”
“Umm... yeah, yes! It’s perfect, thank you.” I have no idea what I just agreed to, but it should be fine.Everything is fine.
The waiter proceeds to pick up our menus and leaves, which makes me realize he left without even taking my order. I raise my hand to call him back when I hear the stranger chuckle. I turn back his way, completely lost with what’s happening, and watch him sit back in the chair he claimed as he begins to roll up his sleeves.
OH MY GOD... those forearms!
They come straight from a woman’s wet dreams. Thick and roped with well-defined veins that run all the way down to those big, knuckled hands. I can see the beginning of a tattoo near his right elbow, which I imagine leads up the rest of his arm. I swear my lady bits tingle just from the sight of the best arm porn I’ve ever seen.
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“Um, no. Not exactly,” I blush.
His head falls back as he lets this deep, throaty laugh out. I watch with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down from the force of the laughter, completely stunned to silence.
Once his laugh subsides, he brings his head back down and wipes the corner of his eyes with a toothy smile etched on his face. All while I stare at him—eternally dumbfounded.
“I have to admit, I admire your honesty. So, what you’re saying is that you simply agreed to something without any knowledge of what it was? I could have ordered you the most unappealing dish on the menu, and now you’d be forced to eat it because you agreed to.” He arches a brow, that smirk back in its place.
“It’s not because it lacks in appeal that it means it won’t be good. For all you know, it may be the very best dish they serve here.” I lean back in the chair and cross my arms over my chest, satisfied with my own response.
He studies me for a moment before smiling wide.Stop smiling! My lady partscan’t take much more...“Point well made,” he says with a nod.
We stare at each other with clear amusement painted on both our faces, but after a brief moment, I let out a heavy sigh of defeat and drop my gaze to the tablecloth. I start to delicately trace the barely visible patterns in the fabric with the tip of my index finger before breaking the silence that’s fallen on us.
“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t have just gone along with what you said. But in my defense, I’m a bit confused at what’s happening here.” I point a finger from me to him and back.
“I guess I should put you out of your misery.” He chuckles.
“That would be very kind of you, yes.”
He grins while studying me. It’s as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of me by heart. Then, he leans forward, resting his forearms along the table. “That’s a shame, I kind of liked seeing you all flustered.” He chuckles at the expression of embarrassment on my face.
“See, the thing is, I don’t really enjoy eating alone in crowded places.” He watches my finger go about like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen before speaking up again. “People tend to think it’s appropriate for them to come up to my table every five minutes and interrupt my meal.”
I look up at him, a bit confused by his words. “Why would people bother you?”
That comment seems to catch his attention, emerald eyes boring into my hazel ones with a serious look, as if realization has just dawned on him. Although I’m not quite sure of what.
I’m expecting him to grant me a reply, yet all I get is a deep, pensive“hmm”from him as he says, “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Am I supposed to?”
