“Eyes follow you everywhere, my love.” Timothy whispered, drawing my hand to his side. “As long as their owners do not attempt to steal you away from me, I will ignore them.”
I made a low-pitched noise of disagreement, pft! I guess you’d call it.
Whatever it was, it made Timothy smile. “You’re adorable, Penelope. I don’t know how I lasted all these years without you. You make me laugh.”
I’m not sure that was what I was aiming for, but at least it was something better than the emotion I’d gotten from the guys I’d met before who either yawned or fidgeted while searching their phones for something every time I opened my mouth.
The waiter miraculously appeared, handed us the opened menu, took Timothy’s selection of wine, then moved away. I started reading. No prices. That was the first thing I noticed, and then I examined the offerings. Truffles, pork tenderloin with apricots and cranberries, cognac cream sauces. . . the goat cheese dishes were so prevalent I figured that they must have a goat out in the backyard.
Thankfully, seeing my confusion, Timothy offered to choose for both of us. After checking with me about any allergies, he ordered us some kind of sea food risotto that he said contained a variety of sea life. That sounded interesting.
But first the waiter delivered our house salad, an expression that always made my friends and me laugh. (We’d decided that house salad should actually be shavings of dried house paint, a joke no one else appreciated.)
But this house salad had delicious treats mixed in with its very fresh greens and shavings of carrot and purple cabbage. In addition, there were glazed pecans, tiny cherry tomatoes, small balls of goat cheese, and a couple of beet slices which decorated the salad. And, they brought out warm buns, which were the most delicious buns I’d ever tasted.
I guess I was oohing and aahing, although I hadn’t meant to do anything that gauche. But Timothy stopped that with a gentle remark about how a woman who savored food with an abundance of admiring sounds, was said to equally appreciate the arts of the bedroom.
It took a moment for that to filter in, but when I understood, I kept my appreciation silent. Timothy, watching my face, just laughed softly, then picked up my hand and kissed it.