So Many Men...

“It’s all wonderful as far as I can see. Great food and service. Nice atmosphere.”

“What else could you ask for in a restaurant?”

“Nothing. It’s perfect.”

Warmth filled him. Her approval pleased him more than he wanted to admit. “Exactly.”

“Except…”

“What?” He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You just said it was perfect.”

Her gaze pinned him. “Define ‘best customer.’”

He stared at her, frowning. “What do you mean? I’m a regular customer. I’m friendly and appreciative. I take care of the staff.”

“Define ‘regular.’”

What was she getting at? “Regular. I dine here often.”

“How often?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

She shrugged. “I have this feeling about you, Mason.”

Something told him this wasn’t the kind of feeling he was going to like. “What kind of feeling?”

Her lips pursed. “You like the tried and true.”

“That’s right.”

“You like being where you’re known and where you know people.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You like knowing what to expect and what’s expected of you.”

He raised his hands in appeal. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Ever feel like you’re in a rut?”

“No.” A rut? Who was in a rut?

“You don’t ever find yourself doing the same thing over and over again?”

“I like a routine. What’s wrong with that?”

“Define ‘routine.’”

“Come on, Tess, what are you driving at?” He swallowed. How could the woman badger him and still look so damn tempting?

“I don’t know you well enough to make any judgments, but there’s a fine line between a routine and a rut.”

“Well, I am not in a rut. I eat here three, maybe four times a week, because I like it for all the reasons we’ve already stated. That does not mean I’m in a rut. I’m happy with my life. People in ruts are not happy with their lives.” He took a sip of his wine to calm himself.

The woman had a way of riling him.

“No need to get all defensive. You do agree that a little change is healthy, right?”

He stiffened. “Change is part of life. I accept that. I can roll with the punches as well as the next guy.”

“But change can be a good thing. It isn’t always about rolling with the punches. Sometimes it’s about going with the flow. Ever do that? Jump in a raft and let the current take you?”

“Some of us don’t have the time or inclination to just drift about.”

“You should try it sometime.” She ran her finger along the edge of her wineglass. “Imagine the two of us, drifting along together with the sun warming us, a nice breeze caressing our skin.” Her gaze met his, the blue of her eyes as enticing as ever. “No phones or pagers. Just all the time in the world to enjoy each other.”

His mouth ran dry as she took a long swallow of wine. Visions of her floating along in the water wearing nothing but sunshine filled his head. “Well, honey, when you put it that way, it does have a certain appeal.”

“Of course it does. You know I’d take really good care of you.”

“I have no doubt you would.”

Her smile—filled with promise for the night to come—sent heat rippling through him. He smiled back at her, ignoring all the warning bells going off in his head. He could enjoy a night with her and not get tied up in a relationship.

As far as he could tell, Tess didn’t have relationships. She had affairs, which were by nature temporary. “I suppose drifting might not be a bad thing as long as one knew in advance that it would be a short trip.”

“The point of drifting is that you land where and when you land, with no predetermined time frame. But since it’s new to you, I’d say a short bout—a testing of the waters—would be in order.”

He raised his glass, letting his gaze fall briefly to the swell of her breasts. “To a testing of the waters.”

She clinked her glass to his. “May it be all we’ve dreamed and more.” She held his gaze while they both drank deeply.

Notes from the piano shifted into a livelier tune. Tess took another bite of her food, while he continued sipping his wine. The murmur of voices filled the space around them, but their booth remained a private refuge amid the bustle of the restaurant.

“So, tell me about your family. Parents, siblings?” she asked.

“I have a few uncles.” He set down his glass and picked up his fork, clenching it in his fist.

“Uncles?”

“Yes, uncles. That’s it. No parents. No siblings.”

She blinked. “Oh, Mason, I’m so sorry.”

When she reached for his hand, he pulled back. This one with her questions. She’d probably keep asking until he told her. “The quick of it is that my mother split when I was a kid and my father drank himself to death shortly after. I was passed from uncle to uncle until I could make it on my own. End of story. End of discussion. So how about you?”

She sat straighter, but seemed to take his brusque explanation in stride, nodding almost as if she’d expected as much. “Let’s see, I have a mother who’s usually off traveling somewhere, two sisters, both of whom I lived with until one moved out recently. I’m pretty sure the other one is still there, though I don’t see much of her these days. I also have an aunt, my mother’s sister, who’s around most of the time and who keeps us all sane. And we have a family friend who’s more like a father to us than anything, though he’s not a blood relation.”