“I can do that,” Maggie interrupts. “You two go have fun. I won’t even tease Keegan anymore.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, anymore today,” she amends and disappears into the kitchen with Izzy’s flowers.
“Shall we go?” I hold out my hand for Izzy’s.
“Absolutely.” She slips her hand into mine. I lead her out to the truck and open the door for her. Within just a few minutes, we’re driving away from Maggie’s house. “It smells really good in here.”
“I brought dinner with me. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
“You look beautiful.”
She turns that bright smile on me, and I feel my breath catch. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, no woman has ever tied me up in knots like this one does.
I pull into a parking space and turn to Izzy. “Wait for me.”
“Okay.”
I hop out of the truck, retrieve the basket from the backseat, and then circle the hood to open the door for my date.
“This is a gorgeous spot,” she says as I help her down and lead her over the grass toward the cliffs that look out over the Pacific Ocean.
“It’s a place I come to when I need to clear my head,” I admit and set the basket on a picnic table. “Lucky for us the breeze isn’t too bad today.”
“I’ve noticed it gets pretty windy here,” she observes and sits on the bench across from me. “It’s because of the ocean.”
“It is, yes. And in the winter, it can cut right through you. But it’s a lovely day today, and I thought we could enjoy the fresh air—and your tacos.”
“Tacos?” She claps her hands and dances in her seat.
“That’s right, and I brought some extra cilantro for you.”
“You know, I do enjoy a man who pays attention.” She rests her chin in her hand and watches me unpack the basket with a soft smile on her lovely face. “It’s a trait that’s rarer than you’d expect.”
“If you want to get to know someone, it’s best to listen when they speak.” I pour two margaritas into plastic glasses and set one in front of her. “I’m sorry, I can’t rim the glass with salt.”
“Oh, this will do nicely, thank you. I didn’t think you made margaritas.”
“I don’t serve them at the pub, no, but I know how to make them.” I wink and take a sip of the sweet drink, then pull out a bag of chips and sides of salsa, queso, and guacamole. “Let’s start with the appetizer, shall we?”
“These are fresh chips. Not store-bought,” Izzy says in awe as she takes one, along with a big scoop of queso and takes a bite. “Where did you find this?”
“I know the owner of the Mexican restaurant in town.” I eat a chip myself and nod in satisfaction. “He set us up for dinner.”
“This is seriously delicious. I might have a cheese problem.”
“Are you lactose intolerant?”
“No, as in I’m addicted to cheese. I’m quite sure it was invented just for me.”
“Cheese is delicious.”
“What’s your favorite food?” she asks.
“I suppose pizza. I know that sounds boring, but when I was growing up, pizza was for special occasions, not something eaten on a regular basis. In fact, we didn’t eat out much at all because Ma loves to cook and fed us all so much.”
“Well, you know I love pizza, too. I guess I just love junk food. It’s no wonder I can’t get rid of the curves.”
“And what’s wrong with your curves, Isabella?”
She blinks at me and then shrugs a shoulder as she looks down at the chip in her hand. “Nothing, I suppose.”
“Did someone tell you that you shouldn’t have curves?”
“Look, I don’t like talking about my ex because I’m on a date with you, and it’s kind of rude, but yeah. He reminded me almost daily that I shouldn’t eat whatever was in my hand at the time and that I needed to get to the gym.”
I shift in my seat, utterly pissed at the man she almost married. “I think you should eat whatever pleases you, as long as you throw a stalk of broccoli or a carrot in there once in a while. And you get plenty of exercise in your job. I like your curves, love.”
Her cheeks darken, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Thanks. I used to just tell him that I’m a girl, and if he didn’t like curves, he was batting for the wrong team.”
I can’t help myself. I laugh out loud, absolutely delighted with her. “And that’s the truth if I’ve ever heard it. I like your sass, Isabella.”
“Well, that’s good because it’s not going anywhere.” She sighs, and I can see she’s ready for the entrée, so I reach into the basket and pull out a half-dozen tacos and some chicken fajitas.
“This is a lot of food.”
“I didn’t know which you’d like better, so I just got a little of each.”
“That’s a lot of each, but I’m not complaining.” She reaches for a taco and takes a bite. “Jesus, I just found my new favorite restaurant.”
“I’ll take you in there sometime. Javier is a master in the kitchen.”
“Obviously.” She takes another bite. “So, what were you like as a kid?”
“In what sense?”
“Were you shy? Nerdy? A jock?”
I laugh and pile some chicken onto a tortilla. “I guess I was a nerdy jock. I liked sports a lot. Mostly baseball and basketball, although I also played football in high school.”
“Definitely a jock.”
“But I also like to read, and I did well in school.”
“A well-rounded kid, then.”
“I guess so. What about you?”
“I definitely wasn’t shy. I was the social butterfly. I had lots of friends, but no super-close friends. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“And I was totally a cheerleader. I know most people make fun of girls who cheer, but I have to tell you, it was hard work.”
“I don’t make fun of it,” I reply.
“And then I went to college and wanted to be a meteorologist on television.”
I take a sip of my margarita. “I remember you saying that before. So, you wanted to be a weather girl?”
“More than anything. Still do, actually. I love the weather. I study it still and keep track of what’s going on and where. It’s actually quite interesting.”
“So, why don’t you do that, then?”
“Because my parents wanted me to work for the family business. Because of that, I had to minor in business in college. As soon as I finished, I started working at my dad’s office. It was soul-sucking.”
“And why did your parents have so much say over what you did with your life?”
Her mouth opens and closes twice, and then she gazes out at the ocean for a moment. “Because they held the purse strings. And let me tell you, that’s not easy to admit. Some of it was also guilt. I felt like I should be a good daughter and help them.”
“And now?”
“Now I see that it was a way for them to control me. I was there because I was dependent on them for my income and wanted their approval. They even chose Troy for me because his father and mine are friends. And he’s wealthy. The relationship looked really good on paper. I’m not often asked for my opinion or for what I want.”