Read The Light, The Dark, And Ember Between Page 15

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  The first meet was a near complete lesson in male indiscretion and ill manners, yet she sensed he wasn’t a total write-off, not without one more chance for her to salaciously flirt with him. She’d laid down the rules, and he’d studied them with an almost religious fervor over the preceding week. Jon really liked her, and accordingly was determined to go from green to gold by the end of the evening.

  The restaurant was only a few blocks from her house, yet the drive made him sweat. She looked beautiful—no, stunning. She’d pounded him with a wit and intelligence no one ever had before. This was no simple rainbow trout to be released after the catch; this was an iridescent, shimmering marlin. The stuffing and mounting had nothing to do with it; a man with such a beautiful specimen was proud of its beauty, not of simply displaying it.

  At each stoplight the engine obediently hummed while they passed the moments with idle banter. “I hope you like seafood,” he said.

  “I rather prefer eat food,” Tanya quipped. Jon slapped the steering wheel. “Can I just take you to meet Mom right now?”

  “Easy, Sport. You’re still on deck. Don’t start swinging until you’re at the plate.”

  “Good point and entirely reasonable.” Jon immediately deflated.

  He eased the car across the intersection and rolled into the parking lot. It was early, so the dinner crowd hadn’t shuffled in yet. He’d committed the next three gestures to memory.

  “Stay here,” he stated. Tanya stoically nodded.

  Jon fluidly unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door in one smooth motion, then closed it and stepped lively to her side of the car. Opening her door, he offered his hand to help her out. She couldn’t help but smile; such manners were hard to come by anymore.

  “Thank you very much,” Tanya said with a smile.

  “My pleasure.” Last time he had gotten out of the car and stood at the rear waiting for her—in the Denny’s parking lot, no less. This was a huge improvement, but the night was still very young, and Jon still a male.

  “I’m far more impressed than last time, Jon,” she said. “The Oak Rhino is pretty classy.”

  “I know I came off as pretty rusty last time.”

  “Jon, rusty is for pipes and badly cared for boats. You were, let’s say, in a league of your own.”

  “That’s fair. Would it help if I told you I like to live dangerously?”

  “Living dangerously is jumping out of planes or kicking the school bully in the crotch.” Tanya gave him an incredulous stare. “Taking your dates to Denny’s is borderline perilous—that is, if you expect at least a kiss goodnight. In my book, it’s more like the kiss of death.”

  Jon persisted, undaunted. “If I may latch on to your baseball metaphor from a few minutes ago…”

  “You may.”

  “Tonight, if I strike out, it will be because I went down swinging for the cheap seats,” he offered.

  “My, but you do know how to melt a girls heart with all that sports talk,” she said, eyelashes aflutter in mock flirtation. “How incredibly inspirational.”

  “Ah, sarcasm. That’s a good sign. Well, I wanted to work Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven into the conversation, but the sports metaphor was far too tempting to pass up.”

  Jon walked her to the front door, her hand tucked inside the crook of his elbow, and at the door he opened it, allowing her to step through first. At the table, he even pulled out her chair so she could sit down.

  “Jon, I must say, you are far more gallant tonight than last time.”

  Even if he hadn’t wanted to smile, he couldn’t have stopped himself. “Thank you. I felt bad about last time. I was raised better than I let on.”

  “So, tell me about The Raven,” she prodded.

  “You’re going to think it’s infantile,”

  “Try me.” Tanya propped her chin upon her palms, elbows resting on the table.

  Jon took a healthy swig of water then cleared his throat. “Well, my first thought when you opened the door, and I saw you…” Tanya raised an eyebrow. “The word that popped into my head was cherubic.” Her brow furrowed a bit.

   “And that correlates to Poe how?” she inquired.

   Jon folded his hands and closed his eyes. “Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.”

  “Jon…”

  “I know, the plural of cherubim is—”

  “—Actually, I was going to say I’m not sure who’s pitching here and who’s hitting.”