Page 13 of Slapshot Summer
A smile sneaked up on him.
“As for movies,” she went on, “I don’t keep up.Same goes for TV, which means I can only nod along when co-workers—ex-co-workers—compare notes on the latest episode about naked survivalists running around in the jungle.”
When she looked down at her plate, he stole a quick sweep of the area, hopeful Neil wasn’t on his way back and gratified when he didn’t spot him.“How come you don’t watch TV?”Josh didn’t watch much either, which left him out of the loop when his teammates—ex-teammates—rambled on about this show or that.
“I get overwhelmed with the platforms and choices.One service has this show Imightlike, but if I want to watchthatshow—”
“You have to sign up for a different service,” he interrupted.“Feels like a scam, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly.Not only would I go broke subscribing to them all, but I wouldn’t be able to keep them straight.”Her hands waved in the air as she talked, and her expressions shifted from animated to thoughtful.Observing her was fascinating.“And then there are the endless hours I’d have to devote to watching everything.So much of it is junk anyway, so why waste time and money?Quantity in spades but little substance.It’s like eating celery.”
He canted his head in question.
“Lots of crunch but no nutrition.”She wrinkled her upturned nose.“And so many storylines are retreads that feel …” She twirled her hand as if trying to pluck the word from the air.
“Contrived?”he offered.
“Thank you!”Her eyes flashed emerald green.
She was fucking adorable.Good thing he wasn’t into adorable, or he might bodycheck Neil and take his place.
“I couldn’t agree more.”How ridiculous was it that they sat in this posh restaurant talking about TV?It was an irrelevant topic—a petty complaint in a world teeming with urgent problems—yet talking to her was comfortingly normal somehow.He liked that he could share his ideas, no matter how small, without being ridiculed.He liked that she felt the same way.He wasn’t all by himself on Crazy Island.
A thought struck him.“Wait.You’re telling me a bridal magazine writer doesn’t binge Hallmark movies?Don’t you need inspiration?”
“Not that kind.I get enough of the syrupy stuff on the job.Didget enough.”A wistful sigh escaped her.
“Do you miss the work?”
“I miss the paycheck.The work, not so much.”
Pushing his plate out of the way, he angled toward her, leaning his forearms on the table.“So what happened?If you don’t mind my asking.”
A half-smile curved her mouth.“I don’t mind, but I don’t know you well enough yet to go there.”
Yet.He liked that word.It held a promise that warmed him for reasons he didn’t quite grasp.
She pushed her own plate away and propped her elbows on the table.“My turn.You said I could ask anything, right?”
His spidey-senses went on high alert.“Sure.”
“Why do you refer to yourself as a former hero?”
“I don’t know you well enough yet to go there.”He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes.Why that tickled him, he had no idea.“Next question.”
“Why aren’t you wearing the shirt you had on when we were on the shuttle?”
Not what he expected, but it caused relieved laughter to expand in his chest.“You mean the one that looks like cans of neon paint exploded on a canvas?”
She trilled a laugh.“It is rather …”
“Garish?Tacky?”
“Rainbow-rific?”she offered.
“That’s close, but I’m not sure there’s a word in the English language that adequately describes that riot of questionable colors.”
She choked on another laugh, which made him feel oddly gratified.He liked that he could bring a smile to her pretty face, and the more he laughed with her, the more he settled into vacation mode.She was surprisingly easy to be around.
