“You never know what kind of distress a damsel will be in,” he said, winking at me. “It’s partly out of habit. I have a younger sister with a sweet tooth, and I always grab extra for her. But I took them because the crew seem determined that no one’s going to eat tonight.”
The cookie was heavenly. Soft and chewy with just the right number of chocolate chips. I swallowed my bite. “The girls can’t get as drunk if there’s food to absorb some of that alcohol.”
“You’re not drunk.”
“I had a super strict upbringing,” I said, not sure how much I should tell him. “And the guy in charge believed in purity of mind, soul, and especially body. So no alcohol, no sugar, no processed foods, no drugs. I didn’t even have cake until I was fifteen and at a birthday party.” It was one of my fondest memories, and to this day that was the best slice of cake I’d ever had.
“That sounds like cruel and unusual punishment.”
“You don’t miss what you’ve never had.” I held the remaining cookie up. “But once you find out how delicious it is . . . well, that’s why I’m a dessert junkie now.”
“So you’ve defiled yourself with sugar,” he said with a mocking sad face that made me giggle. “‘Guy in charge’? Your father?”
“No.” Not my father. My almost husband. But that was a can of crazy I wasn’t willing to pop open yet.
He picked up on my cue and changed the subject. “I’ll have to feed you some Monterran desserts. Those are decadence on a plate.”
The idea of him feeding me anything made my stomach spin. “Monterra? Is that the city you’re from? What country is that in?” There was a slight European accent to his voice, but I couldn’t place it. Not that I’d met a lot of Europeans or anything.
“Someplace you’ve never heard of,” he said. Now I was the one picking up his reluctant cues, but it seemed strange. It was a pretty basic question. Like when you met someone in college for the first time it was always hi, where are you from, what’s your major? Not hard.
I filed that bit of information away. Monterra. Maybe there was a computer inside the house and I could look it up.
“You really listen. I feel like I want to tell you things.” I probably should have thought before I spoke, but it was honest and I didn’t regret it.
“Oh?”
“And not in that way guys do where they only listen to you because they want to, um, take things further. Like it’s their reward for putting up with your jabbering.” There was a slight ocean breeze, and my skin broke out in tiny bumps. It wasn’t cold. I was pretty sure this was all due to him. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms.
He noticed and took off his jacket again. This time he placed it over my shoulders. It was so old-fashioned and thoughtful that the bumps turned into mountains. I thanked him. It was still warm from his body, and it smelled of him. I slid my arms into the sleeves, letting the delicious warmth envelop me.
“And you don’t reward them?”
He was either a good guesser or I somehow radiated my virginity. I wasn’t embarrassed by it. So many other girls came on this show as virgins, and it got turned into this major plot point. The ones who just told the guy up front made it not a big deal. And it wasn’t.
“That purity extended to relationships. I may indulge in sugar, but I’m waiting for the right guy and the right time.”
There was a slight moment of surprise, followed by a big self-deprecating grin. “What?” I asked.
“Let’s just say that I gave my oldest brother a hard time about something, and he’s going to enjoy some payback.”
I wondered if I could hijack his jacket and take it back to my room tonight. I could sleep in it, surrounded by the scent of his amazing cologne. I understood the general patheticness of that desire, but I didn’t care. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
He looked uncomfortable for a moment before he responded. “Three sisters, two brothers, and a brother who died when I was young.”
I put my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. I lost my mom when I was thirteen.”
He put his hand on top of mine, and I tried not to shiver. “Now I’m the one who is sorry.”
We stood there for a moment, and I realized that he was watching my lips. Would he kiss me? Did I want him to? I mean, I did not want to be one of those girls who was making out with the eligible bachelor on the first night. I’d never had a very high opinion of those women.
But I suddenly appreciated why they’d done it.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Wow. That just got super depressing super fast, didn’t it? We should probably head back.”