Page 40 of Unforgiven in Cheshire Bay

David pulled his eyes off the road for just a moment to look at me with a shrug. “Something like jazz?”

“What? You didn’t check it out?” How unlike him.

“The band playing is called The Parade, sounded harmless enough.” He shrugged.

“What if it’s death metal?” It wasn’t my jam, but I knew of some who loved it.

“Then I’m sorry in advance.” A gentle chuckle filled the air, striking my heart with the low notes. “But we’ll be going elsewhere.”

“Not a fan?”

He shook his head and his lips curled in disgust. “Makes me want to blow my brains out.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” I giggled and took in the surroundings as we drove.

The area on either side of the road was rich in greens and browns; the dark hues were my favourite colours. Something about the deeper shades were soothing.

“Personally, I’m hoping it’s more relaxing. Had an absolutely insane day today, and I could use a nice, enjoyable evening.”

“So, all topics revolving around work are off the table?” I raised a brow.

“Yes, most respectfully.”

“I’m totally on board with that. What about politics and religion?”

His hands briefly slipped from the 10 and 2 positions as he signalled and pulled out onto the highway leading north. “Please, let’s not. Can we stick to more pleasant, less controversial topics?”

“Like blueberry pies?”

“Yes.”

“And? Did you enjoy yours?”

“Very much. I finished it off within a couple of days.” He patted his flat tummy. “Put on a few pounds too.”

“You ate the whole pie?”

“Yeah, it was so good, but don’t judge me please.”

“Too late. Already have.” I snickered but tipped my chin down when he didn’t look amused.

“What?”

“You don’t like death metal, and you’re a micromanager. Trust me, the judging has begun.” However, I said it playfully, hoping he wouldn’t think I was a total bitch for saying it.

“Oh really?” He cocked his brow and let one hand fall from the steering wheel. “What else have you judged?”

My cheeks heated. Leave it to me and my big mouth to say more than I actually had intended.

“Fine.” I inhaled and released my breath in one fell swoop, tossing my hands up in defeat as I picked my words carefully and laced them with sweetness. “Aside from the way you meet with your guests and thank them for their business, the way you get to my daughter’s level and talk in her language…” Which warmed my heart like nothing else, “I’ve also judged your model-worthy looks and your tailored outfits. Sue me.”

“And?” There was an undeniable charm hanging off that word.

“And… Well, I think you are a solid guy; the whole package. Totally good-looking, and quite the gentleman.”

“Totally good-looking,” he repeated. “Why, thank you.”

I clutched my hands together. “I’m nothing if not honest.”

---