Harm called me about forty-five minutes later just as I was crawling into bed. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How far away do you live?” I asked. “That took forever.”
“Keepin’ track already, I see.”
I blushed. “Just a question. I have not put a GPS tracker on your phone… yet.”
He chuckled. “I live at the club. It’s in Beaverton.”
“Oh, that’s a haul,” I breathed out. “You really don’t have to come all the way up here tomorrow.”
“Babe, I’m gonna be up there anyway, but even if I wasn’t, I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. You need to quit worryin’ about what I say. If I don’t want to do somethin’ I’ll tell you.”
“That simple?”
“That simple,” he said. “You drink coffee?”
“No.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I pump it directly into a vein in my arm,” I retorted.
Harm laughed. “Okay, I can relax. Was worried there for a minute. If you’re not a coffee drinker, we were gonna have to part ways.”
“That’s a deal breaker, huh?”
“Yeah. Are you a fancy coffee gal?”
“Sometimes. Most days it’s coffee with cream and Splenda. Why?”
“Just gettin’ to know you.”
“Okay, my turn,” I said. “Beer or wine?”
“Beer.”
“Favorite?”
“Don’t really have one. I’ll drink anything.”
“Vegetarian?”
“You already had dinner with me. I ate a steak,” he pointed out.
“Did you?” I asked. “I didn’t notice. I was too focused on your eyes.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, plus I’d had a glass of wine by then, so I was feeling a little tipsy.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m still not a vegetarian.”