I don’t want to interrupt Jack’s conversation. I sigh, I wish I had my phone on me. I left it on my nightstand. I saunter over to my window and peek out.
I have a perfect view of the garbage bins. It’s not like I enjoy checking out the trash, but I do like to see if there are any furniture items I might want to snag before Bob Dickerson gets his wheelin’ and dealin’ hands on them. I lift up one of the slats of my blinds. The bin area is empty. I shut it and turn around.
“Ready for breakfast?” Jack is braced in the doorway. I almost want to giggle. He reminds me of a football player about to ask me on a date. Well, I guess technically he has asked me on a date, but he’s not a football player. Did Jack play sports in school?
“Yes, let me grab my purse.” I slide past him and stride into my room to grab my purse and phone. There is so much I don’t know about Jack. Maybe I should have him fill out a questionnaire. I laugh. How awkward that would be? Oh hey, Jack, would you mind filling out a few questions about your background? I’m feeling uneasy about where this is going and my heart…so if you wouldn’t mind…then pass him a stack of papers. Ha!
I stroll back into the living room. Jack is on the phone again. “Yes, Aunt Minnie, I’ll call you with an update soon…I promise. All right, love you too.” He swivels. Jack’s eyebrows raise.
“Ready?” I raise my own eyebrows in return.
“Yes, I’m starving.” Jack opens the door and I follow him. Jack is waiting at the landing for me. I smile. He offers me his hand and I take it. It’s firm and warm. We proceed down the stairs and make it to my car. I cup the door handle.
“Let’s take my car.” Jack tugs me away from my car.
“Okay, let me grab my garage remote.” I open the car door and take the remote control from my visor clip. I hit it once and the clatter of the garage door opening resounds through the garage. I follow Jack as we go to his car. It’s parked on the street in front of my town house. I remember it from last night when he was following me home, but even if I hadn’t seen it, I would know it’s his car, it’s a white egg-shaped car. It seems as if most standard rental cars are white egg-shaped vehicles.
Jack clicks the remote and opens the passenger door for me, waiting until I am fully adjusted in the chair before he closes it. He slides into the seat next to me and starts the engine. There are several great brunch options within a five-mile radius of my house.
“How did you sleep?” I know this is a dull question, but I feel like it’s my duty as a host to ask.
Jack eyes me and nods. “Better than I have in weeks.”
I laugh. “Really?” I squint my eyes. I did go for the slightly upgraded mattress, is this the cause of Jack’s peaceful rest?
Jack rubs his thumb and finger over his jaw. “Yes, really. Lauren, you have a very comfortable guest bed. I might have to write you a review on Airbnb.”
I roll my eyes then bob my head back and forth. “Alright, well that’s good to hear. Everyone can use a little extra cash over the holidays.” I wish I could take back the last sentence. I hope he doesn’t think I’m taking a shot at him about Vintage Estates.
“True. But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t want Airbnb to be your means of extra earning potential.” Jack switches his turn signal and I notice we are headed south on Highway 83. My curiosity is further piqued as to which restaurant location he will choose. We are getting closer to the Waterfront cafes. If the windows were open, I’m sure we would get a waft of the ocean.
Jack is driving down the streets like a local, if I didn’t know better I would have assumed he grew up here. Several turns and the car begins to slow down to a searching pace. Jack is on the hunt for street-side parking. I smirk at this. Parking on the street within steps of the harbor is a hit or miss on most days but a Saturday in December? The car jolts to a halt stop. Unbelievable. A person is backing out of a spot. And right in front of The Platters. Hmm…is this the place he had in mind? Platters is one of Brianna’s and my favorite brunch spots, especially when we are nursing hangovers. They have a Hang Me Over My Yammies Pancakes and Patties breakfast to cure any headache and weak stomach. I don’t know what they put in this dish, but it works. Every time. Jack steers the car into the too-small-for-me-to-park space with two adjustments. Impressive.
“Come on, my little wild hare, a feast awaits us.” Jack’s eyes flash a wicked hunger.
When I’m hungry I get like a sad Panda until I get some form of nourishment and my blood sugars start rising. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Okay, Hawk-eye.” I grab the car handle and step out onto the street. Brr. It is cold, even with my navy pea coat and white scarf. I’m freezing. Jack rushes around to my side of the car and wraps an arm over my shoulder.
“I’m okay with the idea of Hawk-Eye…but I never really bonded with his character.” He is guiding us directly towards the entrance of The Platters. My stomach gurgles. The sounds of cars are loud enough to ensure Jack did not hear it.
“Well I haven’t bonded with the idea of a wild hare…so I guess we are even?” I air quote the operative word.
Jack laughs. “But, Lauren, you are my wild hare.” He leans down and kisses my head. Little tingles flow down my body like sand in an hourglass filling up the lower half and causing an eruption of emotion.
I’m blaring ‘Fever’ in my internal sound system and flames are igniting everywhere, but Jack is steering us in through the doors. The smiling hostess feasts her eyes on Jack and I furrow my brows. Um hello, he’s obviously with a date.
“Hi there, how many in your party?” She sticks the top of ballpoint pen in between her puckered lips.
“Two, please.” Jack squeezes my hand.
“Sure thing, right this way.” She motions come hither to us. We follow behind her as she navigates a straight path to the window overlooking the harbor. I’ll never get tired of seeing this. There are a few sailboats in the water and a brave kayaker. He appears to have on a full wetsuit, but still it’s got to be at least forty degrees outside and next to the water it’s always chillier. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to fall in.
I slide into my chair and pick up the menu in front of me. I’m starving.
“Two coffees, please.” Jack says to the hostess.
“Anything for you, honey, I’ll send your waitress right over.” She stands in front of our table for a second too long.
I roll my eyes at my menu.
“What’s on your mind?” Jack cocks his head to the right.
“Nothing but food.” Obviously I’m not going to mention Miss. Flirty-pants, this would only make me seem insecure, which I am not.
“Me too. I read online they have creamy lemon ricotta pancakes.” Jack wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I laugh and nod my head. “Sounds tasty, I think I’m going to go with my favorite Hang Me Over My Yammies and Patties.”
“Do you have a hangover?” Jack’s eyebrows furrow.
“No, do you?” I raise one eyebrow at him and purse my lips.
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