Page 14 of Her Paramedic
He gave her a soft kiss. “Did you find it okay?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He gestured towards the living room. “Give me a few minutes, and we can head out.”
“Take your time,” she responded, sitting on the couch.
When she was left alone, she took in the living room. It was modernly decorated but cozy, done in charcoal and mild blues.
True to his word, he was back a few minutes later, and Talia took in what he wore for the first time: a pair of black jeans and a camel-colored cable-knit sweater. She’d thought it before, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last time, but it should have been criminal for him to be that fine and to look so attractive in everything she’d seen him in.
He led the way to his car and opened the passenger door for her.
“I thought we’d start with lunch,” he stated, backing out of the driveway.
“That works for me,” Talia responded. It was almost twelve-thirty, she’d gotten there early, and she hadn’t eaten breakfast.
She took in the city sites as they headed to what she assumed was downtown. She’d lived in Colorado Springs her entire life and only traveled to Pueblo twice. Each time for a hair show, and hadn’t stayed to take in too much of the city.
Downtown was bustling, but she hadn’t expected it not to be. There were restaurants, cafes, bookstores, and shops. A few places were closed; from the names, she would guess they were lounges and bars.
Slate pulled into a parking lot after paying the fee and receiving his ticket. When they got out, he came around to her side, slipped his hand under the back of her coat, and settled it on the small of her back. The simple touch felt heavier than it was, and she would swear she could feel the warmth of his palm through her shirt.
“There’s this little restaurant two blocks from here that I think you’ll like.”
He steered her in the right direction, and she pressed close to him as they passed others on the sidewalk to allow them to pass, his hand slipping to her waist.
A few minutes later, Slate opened the door to the restaurant and allowed her to enter first. It was warm and homey, and the atmosphere was intimate. There were a dozen tables, with two chairs each. The hostess led them to a table, and Slate pulled her chair out for her. Talia hung her coat on the back of it.
“You were right,” she started when they were alone. “This place is cozy.”
“I like to come here after a night shift occasionally. They’re only open for breakfast and lunch. The menu isn’t very extensive, but the food is delicious.”
Talia smiled at him, deciding to forgo looking at the menu. “Then I’ll let you order for me.”
“There is something I think you’d enjoy. Any allergies?”
“Kiwi.”
Talia couldn’t help but smile at him again. It wasn’t often that someone she was dating asked her that. They usually found out because she supplied the information when they were going out for drinks, which was where she ran into it. Or, on the rare occasion, she’d gone to the grocery store with someone in past relationships.
“Kiwi isn’t a rare allergy, but I think you’re the first person I’ve met with it.”
“I was lucky,” Talia responded. “It isn’t used daily or in an abundance of things like peanuts.”
“Do you have an EpiPen?” Talia nodded. “Where is it?” When she furrowed her brow, he elaborated. “By some freak chance, you have a reaction; I’d like to get to it easily.”
“It’s in a bright yellow holder in my purse. I have Epi vials, but there’s a pen too.” She’d chosen that color, so it would be easy for her, her family, or her friends to find it if she needed it. She also carried both because the vials were less expensive. Her parents, sister, and most of their friends were comfortable giving her injections. She carried the pen for those who weren’t to be on the safe side.
Their server arrived to take their drink order, and Slate ordered for them. She was unsure what he’d chosen since he gave them the restaurant’s dish names.
“I don’t think I told you how beautiful you look.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me for the truth,” he replied.
They conversed until their food came; she saw he’d ordered her a blackened shrimp bowl. If it tasted as delicious as it looked and smelled, her taste buds would be in for a treat. Upon the firstbite, Talia couldn’t restrain the small moan of appreciation that left her.
