Page 17 of Breakaway Heart
“God, they smell amazing!”
“That’ll be the butter and herbs. Hope you don’t mind getting your hands a little dirty.”
“Oh, not at all,” I told him with a coy smile, as he spooned the long black pearls into large bowls, before sitting down opposite me.
“So, how was your day?”
I smiled to myself. So, hehadlistened.
“It was fine. Although the hotel manager seems to have taken pity on me and keeps trying to get me to join in with their experiential activities.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“Not really. If I’m honest, I don’t really want to be here at all. My boss thought it was a good idea to take a break.”
“Ah. So, we’ve both been sent to purgatory?”
“That’s a long word for you, Randall. You need to lie down?”
He grinned back at the jibe as I put a mussel into my mouth.
“Ugh, these aresogood!”
“So…” he said, popping a mussel into his own mouth. You wanna hear about how I scored in the Olympic final? Or what happened inthatgame in Minnesota in the playoffs?”
“Oh. God no. I want you to be interested in me. Ask aboutme.”
“Okay… Umm… You ever play hockey?” He asked, optimistically.
“Nope.”
Looking stumped for a minute, Randall scratched his jaw, giving me a chance to look at him properly. He had fantastic cheekbones, and that perfectly chiseled and powerful jaw that he was fondling...No, no, no! Stop that right now. You can not get attracted to this ridiculous man!
“You know, I was the youngest player for the junior USA team, back when…”
“Try again, Randy,” I said, dryly.
“Um. Okay. You like watching sports?” He said, hopefully.
“Right. I’m throwing you a bone here. Three easy ones.Ask me what I do. Ask me about my family. Or, ask me what I do for fun.”
“I choose…” He carefully considered the options, “Number three!”
I stared at him, waiting patiently to ask me properly.
“Ahem, what I mean is,” he leaned over and topped up my glass as he spoke, “What do you do for fun, Lucy?”
I felt a strange prickle of pleasure hearing my name on his lips.
“Outside of my work as a Love Guru?” I teased.
“Yes. Exactly.”
I started to open my mouth, then frowned, annoyed at myself. I’d told him to ask the question, but now that he had, I couldn’t think of a worthy answer to give him. I worked, I slept, I hung out in bars, I watched reality TV. There must be something…
“Um. I used to have hobbies. I painted, I sang, I made these awful little Christmas ornaments that I gave to everyone every holiday season.”
“Oddly cute. And now?”
