Тесса Рэдли – Expecting His Child: The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition (страница 15)
With a small huff, AJ could do nothing but nod.
* * *
The minutes dragged by, painful, boring moments in which they were seated, given menus and the wine list and then left to decide.
Matt folded his menu and turned his attention to her. “So, you have a sister.”
“Emily, yes.” She rearranged her cutlery, aligning it perfectly with her plate.
“Older or younger?”
“Younger.”
“And your parents? Are they—?”
“Not in the picture. Ever.”
When she put her elbows on the table and leaned forward, his gaze latched on to the tiny butterfly pendant at her throat as it swung gently, glinting in the light. “Matt, look, I’d prefer we don’t talk about my past.”
He brought his eyes back to her and frowned. “I’m just trying to get a conversation going here.”
“I know. But those people are off-limits.”
Those people? Matt’s brow ratcheted up but he said nothing. Take your time. You deal with setbacks and plan deviations every day. This one is no different.
“You and Emily are close.”
He heard her small sigh before she laid her arms on the table, cupping her elbows. “Now, yes.”
“And before?”
“We hadn’t talked in years. But we’re good now.” She waved a casually dismissive hand, but the deliberateness of the gesture sent up a red flag. He stored that snippet away for future reference.
“So where did you grow up?”
“Lots of places. Look, Matt—”
“Sydney? Brisbane?”
“Perth. I don’t think—”
When he leaned in he didn’t miss the way she ever so slightly leaned back. “Humor me, AJ. I just want a little background.”
“Why?”
“Because I really know nothing about you.”
“You know enough.”
“No, I don’t.” He focused on repositioning his wineglass in order to give her time to work out an answer without feeling the pressure of his scrutiny. “For example, where did you go to school? Did you have any pets when you were a kid? What’s your favorite movie? Book?”
When he finally glanced up, she was staring at him so hard, it almost felt like a rebuke. Yet he held firm and finally she said, “I stopped counting schools after six. We couldn’t afford to feed ourselves, let alone any pets. I must’ve seen The Wizard of Oz a hundred times. And my favorite book? The Magic Faraway Tree.”
“Enid Blyton?”
She nodded. “I always wanted a tree like that.”
“Didn’t every kid?” He smiled.
AJ remained grim. “No, I really wanted one.”
Before he could reply, a waitress appeared. “Are you ready to order?”
He clamped his mouth shut and gave the waitress a neutral smile.
They ordered. When they were alone again, silence reigned. Matt watched the way AJ’s gaze dropped, her eyelashes fanning down over her cheeks. She tucked her hands under the table and leaned forward, forearms pressed against the table edge. She still didn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing solely on the fractured light streaming through the blue glass water bottle centered on their table.
“So.” He poured a glass of water. “You’re an artist.”
She glanced up. “You could say that.”
“People buy your stuff, right? So I’d say that makes you one.” He pointed to her glass, and she nodded. They both watched him pour, the awkward tension punctuated only by the soft glug of water filling the glass. “What medium do you work in?”
“I don’t mind oils but much prefer watercolors.” She wrapped her fingers around her glass and pulled it across the table. “They dry quicker and the customers don’t have to wait long.”
“Did you study art at uni?”
“No. All self-taught.” She took a sip of water. “Story of my life, really.”
He was ready with a dozen more questions but he clamped his mouth shut instead.
A few more moments passed, moments in which she refused wine, then casually cast her eye around the restaurant, observing the diners, the staff, the decor. And he, in turn, took his time and studied her with leisurely pleasure. The curve of her cheek that he knew was just as soft as when he’d first touched it. The delicate earlobe full of sensitive nerves that made her alternately shiver then gasp. The stunning hair that curled around his fingers with a life of its own.
When her gaze finally returned to him, his expression must have given him away.
“What?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Nothing.”
“Tell me,” she persisted, a cautious, curious smile matching his. So he crooked his finger, beckoning her closer.
“Ten years has made you more beautiful.” Startled, she pulled back, looking down at the table. “Angel, are you blushing?”
“I don’t blush.”
“I think you are.”
She snapped her gaze back to his, eyes sparkling. “Fine. I am.”
“I never knew a woman to take such offense at being called beautiful.”
“Oh? So you’re free and easy with your compliments, are you?”
“Women like compliments.”
“I’m sure they do,” she replied archly.
He grinned. “But you are...unique.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“You’re welcome, Angel.”
He heard her tiny intake of breath. “Can you stop calling me that?”
“Why? You liked it once.”
She tightened her grip on the glass and glared for a few seconds. Then she shrugged and took another sip of water. “Fine, whatever.”
Oh, he was getting to her, all right.
“Matt,” she started casually, steadily focused on rotating her wineglass by the stem.
“Yes?”
She paused, then shook her head. “It’s none of my business.”
Matt leaned in. “I’ll tell you if that’s the case. Ask me anyway.”