not always.”
She sped up and passed a semi-truck. “Would you tell me about it? We have ten minutes until we get to the restaurant.”
“Well . . .” He rubbed his chin with those long, graceful fingers. “From my apartment, within four square city blocks, you could walk and literally experience seven different cultures of people. Smell all the delicious foods they cooked. See the children play in the streets, hear their laughter.”
Naomi glanced over and his eyes were closed as he relived the memory.
“The women’s colorful clothing was so, so beautiful—wool and cotton and silks as soft as water. There was music playing often and some kind of festival or fair to enjoy almost every weekend. The city fairly vibrated with energy.
“It was a true community where all of God’s children lived together in harmony the way He intended. And it was beautiful.”
Well, hot damn. She’d been expecting some touristy description of the Statue of Liberty or maybe some local hot spots. Not that eloquent dissertation. She swallowed. “You make it sound lovely.”
“Oh, it’s not me. It’s the people. I was just honored to meet them and be a part of that life. If even for a short while.”
She digested his words—the haunted quality to them. As if he were painting a picture of something he’d witnessed, cherished even, but not as something he lived. Like someone who had lovingly observed a living piece of art and wanted to be a part of it. Heartbreaking.
She drove on until they reached the restaurant and parked. Sudden awareness crawled through her like a million hot pinpricks. She dropped her head as her heart sank to her feet.
She’d been drifting through her life the same way.
And it was time to stop.
His warm hand clasped her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
She peered up into his face as the shadows began to play across his features. Had he become just a piece of artwork in her life? A pretty something to be admired from afar but never allowed in?
Sure, he may be in town temporarily. And, yeah, maybe he was a meddlesome pain in her bakery’s ass. But he was sweet and sexier than anything to hit New Destiny in years. And he was gazing at her like maybe, just maybe, he felt a little bit of the same.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. Let’s eat.”
“Super!”
And with that, he hopped out of the car and was inside the restaurant before she could blink.
Well.
He may have given her the finest rear view in four states, but gentleman certainly wasn’t on his list of attributes, either.
Chapter 11
Naomi sat back in her chair with a sigh. Dinner was fine. Delicious, actually. It should’ve been a fabulous time except for two things: The little girl two tables over who stared at them to the point of discomfort, and the fact that every time Naomi tried to engage Eli in conversation, he became engrossed in his steak like it was manna from Heaven.
The few words she’d gotten out of him prior to their meal’s arrival were fine. They established they would both provide basic coconut cream and banana cream pies for the tossing event at the festival and they were comfortable letting another committee handle game booths. He particularly liked the idea of a dunking booth once she explained what it was.
“Someone sits suspended above a tank of water, waiting to fall in when someone hits a target? Fascinating.” He grinned one of his million-dollar smiles. “Sounds fun.”
“You’ve seriously never heard of a dunking booth?” She was perplexed by this guy. He was a chef from New York that could whip up the most exotic dishes and seemed to have the most beautiful insights into human emotion, but at the same time, seemed to be lacking in the most basic human experiences. Yet he’d mentioned a pie toss. He’d obviously experienced some things.
He glanced down and his cheeks turned a soft pink. Was he blushing? “Um, I was raised a bit sheltered.” He peered up at her, his eyes silently entreating
She sped up and passed a semi-truck. “Would you tell me about it? We have ten minutes until we get to the restaurant.”
“Well . . .” He rubbed his chin with those long, graceful fingers. “From my apartment, within four square city blocks, you could walk and literally experience seven different cultures of people. Smell all the delicious foods they cooked. See the children play in the streets, hear their laughter.”
Naomi glanced over and his eyes were closed as he relived the memory.
“The women’s colorful clothing was so, so beautiful—wool and cotton and silks as soft as water. There was music playing often and some kind of festival or fair to enjoy almost every weekend. The city fairly vibrated with energy.
“It was a true community where all of God’s children lived together in harmony the way He intended. And it was beautiful.”
Well, hot damn. She’d been expecting some touristy description of the Statue of Liberty or maybe some local hot spots. Not that eloquent dissertation. She swallowed. “You make it sound lovely.”
“Oh, it’s not me. It’s the people. I was just honored to meet them and be a part of that life. If even for a short while.”
She digested his words—the haunted quality to them. As if he were painting a picture of something he’d witnessed, cherished even, but not as something he lived. Like someone who had lovingly observed a living piece of art and wanted to be a part of it. Heartbreaking.
She drove on until they reached the restaurant and parked. Sudden awareness crawled through her like a million hot pinpricks. She dropped her head as her heart sank to her feet.
She’d been drifting through her life the same way.
And it was time to stop.
His warm hand clasped her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
She peered up into his face as the shadows began to play across his features. Had he become just a piece of artwork in her life? A pretty something to be admired from afar but never allowed in?
Sure, he may be in town temporarily. And, yeah, maybe he was a meddlesome pain in her bakery’s ass. But he was sweet and sexier than anything to hit New Destiny in years. And he was gazing at her like maybe, just maybe, he felt a little bit of the same.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. Let’s eat.”
“Super!”
And with that, he hopped out of the car and was inside the restaurant before she could blink.
Well.
He may have given her the finest rear view in four states, but gentleman certainly wasn’t on his list of attributes, either.
Chapter 11
Naomi sat back in her chair with a sigh. Dinner was fine. Delicious, actually. It should’ve been a fabulous time except for two things: The little girl two tables over who stared at them to the point of discomfort, and the fact that every time Naomi tried to engage Eli in conversation, he became engrossed in his steak like it was manna from Heaven.
The few words she’d gotten out of him prior to their meal’s arrival were fine. They established they would both provide basic coconut cream and banana cream pies for the tossing event at the festival and they were comfortable letting another committee handle game booths. He particularly liked the idea of a dunking booth once she explained what it was.
“Someone sits suspended above a tank of water, waiting to fall in when someone hits a target? Fascinating.” He grinned one of his million-dollar smiles. “Sounds fun.”
“You’ve seriously never heard of a dunking booth?” She was perplexed by this guy. He was a chef from New York that could whip up the most exotic dishes and seemed to have the most beautiful insights into human emotion, but at the same time, seemed to be lacking in the most basic human experiences. Yet he’d mentioned a pie toss. He’d obviously experienced some things.
He glanced down and his cheeks turned a soft pink. Was he blushing? “Um, I was raised a bit sheltered.” He peered up at her, his eyes silently entreating
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