Author's note: A big thanks to my awesome beta UntilNeverDawns. Thank you asprankle1 and kristal farrelly for dropping me those kind lines! Ally is indeed going to be shocked to see proof that Steve is a celebrity, but she'll recover. She's a tough cookie. Have fun reading and maybe hit that review button on your way out. It would mean a lot to me.
So they headed over to the supermarket, it was around 8pm at that point. He parked the car and gave her an expectant look.
She threw him a sweet smile and his annoyance began to slowly disappear. "Come on," she gave his shoulder a gentle nudge with her hand. "Don't be grumpy."
"Couldn't ye have jus' taken me word fer it?"
She looked at him, inclining her head a little to the right. "And missed this adorable little meltdown of yours? No way. So cute! Also," she grinned and touched his arm in a confidential way, her thumb rubbing over his skin once before she retracted her hand, "I'll let you in on a little secret, I do already sort of believe you. But…" now her smile suddenly grew somewhat teasing, "Seeing one of those action figures would admittedly cancel out that last little bit of doubt." She gave him a puppy dog look from underneath her lashes. "I hope that's not so bad."
"So you don't mind about me being famous?"
"You know what? I genuinely don't know," she shrugged. "I just wanted to go out with you because you're cute and fun. I don't have really much experience with that being famous stuff, so no idea how that'll go. Is that good enough for you?"
He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a blank look.
"Exactly. It's still too early to make this more complicated than it is. Besides," she chewed her bottom lip pensively, "accepting complication means that there is something worth fighting for and right now we don't even know what there is and if there is anything at all. So let's figure that out first, ok?"
"Ok," he nodded, but didn't move.
"Now all that talk about that action figure deal has made me curious. How about we head in there and check them out?" she pointed over her shoulder towards the entrance of the supermarket. He nodded at her, his mouth setting into a crooked smirk.
They got out of the car and started walking across the half empty parking lot. Ally came up beside him, her seriousness from before swept away again, making her gait energetic and bouncy. Without much pretext she grabbed his hand and shot him a cute little smile. She was really a strange girl. Almost disgustingly chipper, quirky, positive and energetic. She disposed of a strangely eclectic, yet fashionable sense of style and by the looks of it she had a solid sense of humor and a sharp tongue. Certainly not your run-of-the-mill girl, but there was something about her that made him curious, so he reciprocated her smile and let her prevail.
A couple of seconds later they were standing in front of a shelf filled with WWE action figures. Admittedly Ally's face had plummeted a little when she first had had a look at those colorful boxes displayed there. She picked up one that contained a plastic figure that was supposed to be his likeness. He looked at her expectantly. They weren't holding hands any longer. She looked back at him, then back at the box. Okay, so he was famous. Her nose crunched up a little in worry as she absorbed that thought. Her eyes were drawn back to the boxed action figure in her hands. There was a photograph of him on the box that, according to her, didn't really do him justice. In fact he looked like a ginger lunatic bin fugitive in it. She brought the box closer to her face and frowned. Finally she cracked a smile and beside her Steve discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. She had him worried there for a couple seconds. Now those worries disappeared as she held up the box next to his face, as far up towards it as she could reach anyways and in joking tones proclaimed that it was a good approximation. He would make sure to let the fellows over at Mattel know that (That's irony right there, folks). But she wasn't done yet. Since little plastic Sheamus was half naked, she threw Steve a wicked grin and he braced himself for the inevitable comment to ensue. "And they sell those dolls to kids? Really? I'm curious. Is the rest a good approximation as well?" she asked, her tongue poking out a little from the right corner of her mouth.
He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned smugly. "Even better live an' in person."
"Uh-huh," her eyes sparkled. "Great! So that means you're also handy around the kitchen…." He frowned at her in confusion and she was quick to clear things up for him with a cheeky grin on her face. "You don't get it, huh? Well, I think those abs of yours could come in handy next time I want to shred a cucumber at home… Can I have a look?" She actually reached for his shirt there as if she wanted to peek underneath it. So on top of everything she had no boundaries. Strangely enough that amused him.
He playfully smacked her hand away. "Not on the first date, ye insolent little thing," he growled, trying to tease her.
"Ooooh, he calls me insolent. Got that right, mister. Insolent, disrespectful and disgustingly cheerful, that's me. You should know what you're getting yourself into," she told him with a cheeky, but also somewhat proud grin.
She squealed a little in surprise when he lifted her up without a warning and hoisted her over his shoulder. There had been no strained expression on his face, maybe a look of concentration, but apart from that no indication that lifting her up was strenuous to him. By all means she should have been a little intimidated by that, but instead of being afraid, she felt delighted, even amused, which was odd. Soon she started laughing. She supposed that what he brought out of her and she was surprised by it, but pleasantly so. Her laughter grew louder, especially when he said the next words: "Yer a right little brat, ye know? Do ye have any idea how hard I have te train te look like that?"
"Oh, boohoo! All that training for those abs! Why don't you go and cry a little over in that corner! Poor, poor famous action figure guy," she giggled and he gently swatted her behind once before he pretended to carry her away from the toy shelf. She was neither screaming bloody murder for him to let her down nor did she seem particularly upset. Nevertheless he didn't want to test his luck, so he set her down again. There was a healthy red glow on her cheeks, her eyes were sparkling and she was beaming up at him with a broad, toothy smile. "That was fun. Let's do that again," she proclaimed, hugging the action figure to her chest like a baby.
The urge to kiss her swept over him unexpectedly. They certainly were in an odd spot for it: the toy aisle of Wal-Mart's, of all places, but there was something about her that attracted him to her. Not only was she fun to be around, but at this point it also felt like they had known each other for several years and not just hours. Perhaps something similar was going on in that head of hers as well, because her hand was now resting on the fabric of his shirt that been warmed up by his body heat. Underneath her palm his heart thudded away inside his ribcage. She took a step closer. He licked his lips. Then he heard the shuffling of feet behind him and the rattling of a stubborn wheel of a cart. They weren't alone, still out in public. You never knew where those people with their cameras were lurking. He chose to just give a harmless one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek, before he pulled away.
"Friend-zoned. On the cheek like I'm his freaking auntie," she grumbled under her breath disgruntledly, but was also smiling a little, so he concluded she wasn't strictly serious.
He tried to appease her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They started walking down the aisle at a leisurely pace. "No, definitely not friend-zoned," he reassured her. "An' by the way, luv, me aunt, bless her heart, isn't nearly such a fine thing like yerself."
"Thanks," she beamed triumphantly and they walked over to the check-out counter where oddly enough she managed to talk him into getting one chocolate bar for each of them for which he insisted paying on top of the action figure. Since there was no use trying to bodily wrangle the plastic toy and the chocolate bars from his hands, she resigned herself to watching him pay for everything. She didn't stand a chance against him. She had always considered herself regular sized, but he was that much taller than her and came equipped with longer arms that could hold objects out of her reach. Maybe next time she should opt for those high heels. That or she should consider bringing a ladder.
They were already on their way out when she spotted a photo booth and thought back to how much fun it had been squeezing in there with her friends as a teen and have her picture taken. "Come on, let's do that! It's gonna be fun!" she called out on a whim. She grabbed his elbow and looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with glee. He learned right then and there it was hard for him to deny her anything, so he shook his head and sighed a little, but let her drag him over to the photo booth. There was only one small, leather-cushioned stool in the little cabin on which she motioned him to sit and safeguard the action figure for her while she eagerly fed the machine with a couple of dollars bills.
"Do I have to get in already?" she asked excitedly. "Does it start right away?"
"No," he smiled at her behavior and her enthusiasm. "There are all sorts of instructions. At any rate ye have te press some buttons in here first. Doesn't start off before that."
"Oh, OK. Awesome," she grinned, but stopped, standing in the door of the cabin, holding back the curtain. Suddenly she seemed unsure how to proceed. Despite everything, just sitting down on his lap would probably be rude. Luckily Steve saved her from working through that little dilemma. He just pulled her unto his lap wordlessly, which made her feel giddy and giggle like a teenager.
"So when I press that button, it's going to count down from ten and then it's going to take the first picture, right?" she wrinkled her nose, while she read those instructions. Her facial expression were even cuter that up close. He grinned.
"Go ahead an' press that button then," he said simply and shrugged.
"Any ideas for that first picture yet?"
"There are ideas required fer that?" he asked back, pinching her side to tease her.
She swatted his hand away. Her fingers were cold and a bit clammy. He didn't mind though. "How about we try a mean glare first?" she suggested. "Can you do mean?"
"Can I do mean?" he scoffed. "I bleedin' invented mean."
"Let's find out," she said and pressed the button in front of her that started off the countdown, her hand trembling a little when she reached out. 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1… Flash! The first picture was taken and showed a perfectly credible mean glare from Stephen and Ally who was dissolving in hysterics looking at him.
"I'm going to erase that," she said quickly, still huffing a little from her giggle fit.
"The hell ye will, lass. No erasin'. Press that button again," he commanded.
By the time they had done photo number four they were both laughing. She was wiggling around on his lap because of that and he had to hold on to her, so she wouldn't slip down to the floor. The machine was already busy printing out two strips with the photos, one for each of them. She quickly snatched up those strips as soon as the photo booth spit them out and looked at them. He was doing the same, looking over her shoulder. She could feel his inhales and exhales on her skin, because her shirt had slipped down on one side and it made it difficult for her to focus on the pictures. They were really cute. In addition to the picture where he was glaring and she was dissolving in a fit of hysterics, there was one of them making duck faces, another in which they made silly faces and the last showed both of them just laughing into the camera.
"Here," she held out his slip with the pictures to him. He took it from her and gave it a long, lasting look before let it disappear in his wallet. It made her smile. Perhaps that meant something or perhaps he just had no other place to put the pictures. At any rate it was a nice gesture.
She reluctantly got up from her rather comfortable place on his lap and swept back the curtain, so they could leave the booth.
They strolled across the nearly empty parking lot. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets and she walked next to him with a smile on her face and that action figure box tugged under her arm. He gently nudged her shoulder with arm, wanting that smile to be directed at him. They shared a look. She eventually lowered her eyes again, blushing.
"So back on track with the usual date stuff?" he asked when they were finally back inside his car moments later.
"Yes, please. I'm starvin'. I haven't had anything to eat in between those two classes of yoga today and that run after. I so need to be fed right now," she told him, already unwrapping her chocolate bar and stuffing her face with it. Apparently she didn't seem to care much for the ancient law, passed down from countless mammies to their children, that you weren't supposed to eat chocolate before dinner. He sort of liked that. A lot. In fact he approved so much that he started munching on his chocolate bar as well.
"So what is Ally short for?" he asked casually as he put the car into drive, taking another bite out of his chocolate bar.
"Allegra," she replied darkly.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Allegra Sophie Harrison."
"Stephen Farrelly. Pleasure," he quickly shook her hand, then grabbed the steering wheel again.
"I always thought Allegra sounded a bit conceited. Don't you think that Allegra is, I don't know, a bit over the top?" It became clear by the way she pronounced her own name that she wasn't very happy with it.
"It does sound a bit posh. Has me thinkin' rich heiress."
"Exactly," she said darkly.
"Which ye are?"
"No! God no! Don't tell me you're looking for a rich heiress… That would be so messed up."
"No," he smiled. "Paris Hilton isn't exactly me cup a tea."
"Good to know."
"So how is that fitness instructor stuff workin' out fer ye?"
"Well, mostly it's a lot of fun, but sometimes isn't." She shrugged. "Just like most jobs, I think. I do four Zumba classes a week and about just as many yoga classes."
"Yoga… u-huh."
He saw her cross her arms over her chest out of the corner of his eyes. "What exactly does 'yoga u-huh' mean? Sounds like a big, fat prejudice to me."
"Erm… Well, don't take it the wrong way, but I just can't imagine ye sittin' down fer a period longer than five minutes in a row."
"I AM able to do that," she protested actually sounding a little offended there.
"It's not like I don't tink ye have it in ye. Ye jus' always seem so bubbly, which I really like about ye by the way…"
"Very suave. Paddling back like a real pro here."
"Come on, luv, don't be cross."
"I'm not cross. I'm just having an opinion."
"So then tell me why is it that yer always so hyper?"
She didn't answer for a while and pretending to be deeply engrossed with what was written on the back of that action figure box all of a sudden. He hadn't been aware she read Mandarin. Interesting, he thought to himself ironically. Finally she talked again, her voice lacking the usual firmness and reassurance. "Ugh… Well, this is gonna sound all kinds of mature now… You kinda make me a bit nervous and that's the way I compensate."
"Is that so?" he flashed her a grin and caught a glimpse of her looking adorably embarrassed. He really wanted to do more than grin at her right now, maybe squeeze her hand to reassure her, but that wasn't an option. Luckily they were nearly at the restaurant. Just a quick turn right, okay, parking spot over there, reverse, put the car in park. He let go of the steering wheel and reached for her hand. It was still a little clammy, but he didn't mind that.
When he looked at her, he saw a chocolate crumb sitting in the corner of her mouth and leaned towards her to brush it away with his index finger. His plan of only reaching out his hand to wipe it away was foiled by the instant attraction him leaning forward created between them. He still held her hand in his. She smiled at him and she downcast her eyes a little, suddenly not so brave and outspoken. There was a rustle of fabric when he leaned closer. Her eyes instantly shot up and met his. "Just so you know, you're going to kill every last little bit of confidence I have if you kiss me on the cheek again," she spoke softly.
"It's not gonna be the cheek this time," he reassured her before his lips slowly descended on hers. Just like he had suspected he could still taste the chocolate on them and it was a great taste. One he wanted to explore a little more thoroughly and she gave him every indication she was okay with that by opening her mouth a fraction more. His tongue slowly slipped in-between her lips. He could feel her respond to that by pressing up a little more against him. She also moved her arm upwards and then her fingers slowly glided through his hair from his temple to the back of his head where they remained and slowly started kneading his hair. The tip of her tongue touched his. His fingers gathered a fistful of her shirt. He sucked in a surprised breath through his nostrils when the touch of her tongue turned from innocent and probing to slightly teasing and playful. He smiled against her lips, thoroughly satisfied with the outcome of the situation. Unfortunately it was too early to take this to the next level, so he decided to tone it down a notch. The kiss slowly faded out into a series of short and sweet pecks until she leaned her head against his shoulder and he pressed his lips to her forehead.
"We're doing this all wrong. Kissing comes at the end of the date. Not before it's started or in the middle."
"Does that mean ye mind doin' things the unorthodox way?"
"Well, in general 'no'. But when it comes to dating I'm usually doing it the conservative way. But I have to admit we really don't suck at kissing," she said softly.
"No, can't say we do," he replied with a smile on his lips.
She pulled back to study his face for a second. Whatever conclusion she must have reached, it seemed to be favorable one, because she grabbed his hand and smiled. "Come on. Let's be good and start doing thing in the right order again. Food. Now."
"Have ye noticed how yer sort a bossin' me around all the time?" he told her as he got out of the car. "Do people actually find that attractive?"
"Well, hello?" she pointed at her chest. "That's part of my job. Kind of," she smiled and quickly rounded the car to pop up at his side again and reach for his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and not a rather new development.
"It's part of yer job te boss yer dates around? Some strange job that is," he commented, which made her stick out her tongue at him.
They entered the restaurant, which was near the waterfront and had a beautiful patio out back. Since he hadn't been able to order a table for them, they didn't have a huge variety of options to choose from. "There's something free on the patio," the waiter announced. "It just gets a little chilly out there at night, but we have blankets and heaters…" While Steve was well on board with the patio idea - he was from Ireland for crying out loud, the country where it rained most summers - he wasn't so sure how Ally would take it. Surprisingly she took it like a real trooper. She just grinned and shrugged her shoulders. So the patio it was.
"Nice place," she commented when the waiter had left. The patio was more like a wood terrace. Behind them there was the beach and the waves licking at the sand. She had a cozy looking blanket over her legs, the tables were decorated with candles, a soft breeze was playing with her hair, and in the background the water was making calming rushing noises. The warm glow of the candlelight was bathing her features in an orange hue and he felt some ridiculously romantic words bubble up inside his head. They already were at the tip of his tongue. "Ye really look gorgeous tonight…"
She looked at him, her head had been turned towards the water for a second, her eyes sparkled and there was a smile on her face. "Thank you," she replied. There was a hint of red on the bridge of her nose now. Was she blushing? She touched her cheek. "So do you," she said softly and picked up the menu.
"I'm gorgeous?" he grinned.
She rolled her eyes. "Handsome. That better?"
"Are ye flirtin' now?" he teased.
"Please, we hardly know each other," she replied, her voice halfway between being serious and joking. After all they were practically perfect strangers, perfect strangers with some strange bond of mutual attraction slowly blossoming between them.
"So let's get to know each other," he suggested, also reaching for that menu and letting his eyes roam over it without any real interest.
"You make it sound so simple. It hardly ever is."
"So yer a cynic?"
"No"
"Good." He looked at her. "As fer whether it's simple or not, let's try an' figure that out as we go, shall we?"
She nodded with a smile on her face and started studying her menu as well. After a while she put it down, just to find him looking at her. "Steve…" she started.
"Yes?"
"Why are you called the Celtic Warrior?"
"Where'd you get that from?"
"I can read and it was sort of written in very big letters on that box of the action figure."
"A-ha," he laughed. She apparently was rather curious. "So that's what ye wanna know?"
She nodded.
The waiter taking their orders briefly interrupted them, and then they were alone again, comparatively alone. Because apart from them, only two other lunatic couples had chosen to sit out on the patio.
"You wanted to tell me about that Celtic Warrior thing," she reminded him.
"Right. Have ye ever been te Ireland?"
"What's that got to do with any of that?"
"Jus' about everythin'," he told her. "So have ye?"
"No," she shook her head and it seemed she was almost regretful about that.
"Ye really should go there some time. Yer gonna like it… Anyway," he sighed, pushing the nostalgic memories of his home country away to the back of his mind where they were a constant and reassuring presence. "We are a people very much in touch with our legends an' tales of old. Back in Gaelscoil," he probably saw the incomprehension written all over her features and hurriedly added a couple of explaining words, "that's primary school for ye… It's where we all learn about legendary heroes like Cú Chulainn an' Brian Boru. So as a young lad I was pretty impressed with that."
"Hence the Celtic Warrior stuff," she concluded.
"Hence the Celtic Warrior stuff," he confirmed, the last word sounding really peculiar in his Irish brogue.
"So what made those guys so impressive?" she asked and leaned back in her seat a little, her legs neatly crossed over each other underneath the table. She feeling more comfortable with him now, which luckily allowed her to lead a longer, coherent conversation with him and get to know him a little better.
"I don't know," he thought for a moment, his eyes assuming for a second a faraway look before they focused back on her. They seemed to sparkle briefly when he spoke. That topic clearly filled him with enthusiasm. "They were men..."
"Men," she wrinkled her nose.
"Yeah, real men. They believed in honor, they had principles they lived by, determination, an iron will, strength… Ye've got te admit that doesn't sound too bad now, does it?"
"And you named yourself in their honor, because you think you're like them?" There was still a frown on her face.
He scoffed. "Nah, that would be pretty conceited, wouldn't it? At best I can strive te be like them."
"Like that Cú Chulainn guy?" she smiled, the name rolling from her lips with some difficulty. "That's Gaelic, right?"
He nodded.
"Which you speak?"
He nodded again.
"Fluently?"
"Back at Gaelscoil probably, but it's gotten a bit rusty since then. Later I chose to pick up French at school. Figured it was more useful. Well, that was that fer Gaelic. Besides it's not like I have anyone te speak it with 'round here."
He had half-expected her to ask him to say something in Gaelic now, most people did, but oddly enough she didn't. Maybe she didn't want to put him on the spot. "OK," she replied simply. Her next question came out sort of random. "I know it's kind of strange, but I don't think I've ever asked you. How old are you?"
The bluntness of it and also the impromptu delivery made him chuckle softly. Also it was odd they only covered that topic now. It usually came up much earlier in the getting-to-know-phase. "36. Ye?" Their drinks arrived (water for her and a Coke for him) and the presence of the waiter postponed her answer a little. "31," she answered when he was gone.
"Really?" he asked in surprise. "I was thinkin' more like 26. Ye don't look it."
"Gee, thanks. Wanna know a secret?" She curled her index finger at him invitingly. He leaned closer across the table curiously, his drink, from which he had just taken a sip, in hand. She grinned. "Actually I've been lying about my age. I'm really 17. Hope you like jailbait," she quipped, obviously joking. She might not look over 30, but there was no way anyone would mistake her for a teenager.
He coughed and spluttered on his first sip of Coke, because she had surprised him with her comment and made him laugh. In return she started to giggle as well. "Sorry 'bout that."
"No worries. I prefer te drink me Coke through me nose anyway," he told her, sounding a tiny bit huffy as he dapped his mouth with his napkin. "So me turn." She instantly perched up a little in her seat. "Did ye always want te be a fitness instructor?"
"No, I was a dancer first…"
"Ballet?"
"Hip hop, street dance. But… ugh, I never made it big. Never got to dance in any video clips next to JAY Z, 50 or Snoop. It's hard to get to a level where you can really earn a living with that kind of job, you know."
He nodded. Of course he did. In a way the dream of being a dancer was just as impossible and unlikely as being a wrestler.
"So why'd ye stop dancin'?"
She smiled. "Because I'm old."
"Ye're not old," he corrected her gently.
"That's nice of you to say…" she reached out and gave his hand two gentle pats over the table before she retracted it again, "but unfortunately if you're a dancer you're past your prime once you hit 30. So with that window of opportunity closing, I needed to start looking around for something else to do…"
"Midlife crisis?" he smirked.
"Hey, careful!" she raised her index finger jokingly. "Or you'll make me point out to you that being 36 qualifies as being a middle-aged gentleman."
"Ouch!" he sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, which made her chuckle. "Below the belt, girlie, far, far below the belt."
"Flattery is really old-fashioned. It won't get a girl anywhere these days," she winked at him.
"I don't know. I'm a pretty old-fashioned fella. Maybe ye should give it a try," he told her, suppressing a smirk of his own.
She shook her head. "I think not. You like being teased."
"What makes ye say that?" he laid his folded hands down on the table and scooted to the edge of his seat to lean towards her over the table. His face was looking deceptively neutral and serious, but she wasn't fooled so easily.
She shrugged. "An educated guess? Also your eyes sort of did a little flashy thing when I started teasing you like you we're enjoying yourself."
"How'd ye know? Maybe that was jus' me bein' happy about the prospect of a decent meal in the near future. Ever thought of that?" He was teasing her now. On purpose and with great delight, there was no doubt about that.
"Maybe," she conceded. "Maybe you're way, waaaay more mysterious than I gave you credit for."
"Nice try butterin' me up," he flashed her a mocking smile. "How 'bout we talk 'bout ye little middle crisis some more, shall we? The pink hair looks like an indicator fer that if ye ask me. What's up with that anyway?"
For a second his comment actually made her stare at him with her mouth agape. Her outrage was however only an exaggeration of her true feelings. Deep down she wasn't really offended. She was rather intrigued. "I can't believe you just said that!" she said, her voice vibrating with suppressed laughter.
"Ye'd better," he winked at her.
"I'm not sure I wanna answer your question anymore…"
"Oh, come on, don't be a spoilsport…"
"All right. Brace yourself, here's the big one: My natural color is really boring."
"Grey?"
"Oh my God! It's brown!" she laughed and actually gave his shoulder a gentle shove over the table.
"Ah-hah," he smirked, filing that information away in his head. "So when that pink washes out…"
"My hair won't be brown. It'll be blonde. Like really, really blonde."
"That's not so bad."
"I knew you would say that. Most men like blondes." She wrinkled her nose like that was a bad thing.
"True, but hair colors are superficial," he told her. "It's about what's in here," he tapped his chest.
"Ewwww. Did you really just say that? That was cheesy…" she made a face, which made him laugh softly. "Also I hope you weren't trying to tell me something about boob jobs, which would be a bold move for a first date. And slightly gross."
He raised his left eyebrow. "Definitely."
"Yep… Still a cheesy line though."
"Why? That's what it boils down to in the end."
"Yeah, except that it's more like a combination of things really. A guy can look like some Greek god and then, once he opens his mouth ruin it all with a single sentence. Attraction is based on so many factors. Looks, voice, smell, behavior, intelligence…" she actually enumerated those points on her fingers.
"So what about me?" he asked her with a teasing grin.
"What about you?" she asked back, playing dumb on purpose.
They never got to answer each other's questions. As if on cue their food arrived. They ate in silence, but still threw each other the occasional lingering glance. He doubted she would have had much time for conversation anyway what with those appreciative sound she made while she was stuffing her face with food (although she surprisingly managed not to eat like a slop). She had gone for grilled chicken breasts and vegetables and he had opted for the steak and salad. He watched her eat with a mixture of amusement and fascination.
At one point being watched must have annoyed her a little, because she stopped and gave him a look. "What's up?"
"Nothin'," he lied and after staring at him for a moment suspiciously, she continued wolfing down her food. When it was gone, her fingers started drumming on the tablecloth. Apparently dinner had refueled her energy. He caught her hands because she was starting to make him jittery as well. Also it was a good excuse to touch her again.
"So, what ye wanna do now, luv?" he asked her, not ready to end the evening then and there.
"How about we go dancing?"
Quite predictably her proposal made him frown. "Haven't ye had enough of me humiliatin' meself in front of ye with me dancin' moves already?"
"You'll find out that I can never get enough of that." She leaned a little across the table, her eyes sparkling in mischief as she formulated the following plan: "What if I bought you a nice bottle of beer to hold onto while I did most of the dancing?"
He grinned. "Now that sounds like somethin' we'd both have fun with. We have a deal, girlie. Yer on."
