Tess in Boots (9 page)

I picked up my napkin and folded it in half twice. “
If you don’t mind me asking, who raised you?”

“
My grandparents. Incredible people.”

“
And you grew up around here?”

He nodded.

I looked around and noticed how the twinkle lights grew brighter as night fell.

“
I’ve lost count of questions.” I let out a nervous laugh.

“
We’ll count that as your second. Question number three.”

I tried to think of something less personal to ask.
“What do you do for a living?”

He perked up.
“Guess.”

“
I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“
I’m not answering until you’ve made at least three guesses.” He grabbed another piece of pizza and put it on his plate.

“
Um… tractor salesman.”

He laughed a little and shook his head.

“Farmer,” I said.

“
Nope.”

I put my finger to my lips and tapped it a few times. “
Cow trainer.”

“
Cow trainer?” He looked at me with a quizzical smirk.

“
I don’t know what people do around here!”

“
What makes you so sure I live around here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“
You don’t live around here?”

“
I’m from here, but I haven’t
lived
here for a long time.”

“
Is that so?”

“
Yep.” He clasped his hands together and placed them on the table. “Do you give up?”

“
I give up.”

“
I’m a professor.”

I had taken a swig of my drink and nearly choked on it.
“Be serious!”

“I
am
being serious. I’m a professor.”

I searched his face for a hint of a joke, but he didn’t appear to be kidding.

“Told you that you don’t know anything about me.” He winked.

Darn him. Why did he have to be so… charming? I didn’t know what to say. But I
did
know I kind of wanted him to wink again.

“
Well?” he asked.

“
I… you got me. I’m at a loss.”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair.
“Honest. I have a tweed jacket and everything. And I never say ‘ain’t’ in the classroom. Only when I come back around here.”

“
Okay, Professor. So what do you teach?”

He put another slice of pizza on my plate.
“Philosophy.”

“
Really
?”

“
I never lie.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, that could be a lie. But it’s not.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or is it? What
is
the truth?”

“
Wow. Philosophy humor. You must be serious.”

He shrugged.

“So,” I said, “tell me how one becomes a philosophy professor.”

“
Well, I grew up around here, and around the time high school ended, I got the itch to leave and do something bigger. I went to school on the West Coast. Pre-law.”

“
You wanted to be a lawyer?”

“
At the time, I wanted to be a big shot. I wanted to have a life opposite from what I knew here. I didn’t necessarily
want
to be a lawyer.”

I nodded. “I see.”

“So I get to school, and I’m in my first philosophy class, and it sounds cliché, but I got hooked on it. Signed up for every class I could and never left. I became a teaching assistant, got my Master’s, stayed and got my Doctorate—”

“
What?”

“
It’s okay, you don’t have to call me Dr. James. Unless you want to.”

“
You’re kidding.”

“
I’m not.” He raised a hand as if he were taking an oath.

“
So you’re a professor.”

He nodded once. “
I’m a professor.”

“
A philosophy professor with a Southern accent.” I peered at him, looking him up and down as I took in this new information. “Huh. That is… extremely unexpected.”

“
Good.” He lowered his chin and smiled. “I like to be a little mysterious.”

The jittery feeling in my stomach was back. I looked away to buy some time and pull myself together. When I looked back, he was still watching me, comfortably sitting back with his ankle crossed over his knee.

“So, um…” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Did you know right away you wanted to teach?”

“
Yep. Either that or walk around thinking about deep stuff. Sometimes I do both.” He grinned. “Next question?”

“
See now I feel like I have to ask you something all deep and philosophical.”

He laughed.
“Please don’t.”

“
Hmm…” I picked up my water glass and wiped the sweat from its sides. “Next question. Have you ever been in love?”

For the first time since I met him, he seemed taken aback. It was a little too personal, maybe. He looked at me for a while, his gaze penetrating mine, and I could see him debating over how to answer.

“Fifth,” he said.

“
What?”

“
I said I get to plead the fifth to two questions. I’m using one now.”

“
Oh, come on.”

“
Fifth.”

“
You’re no fun.” I crossed my arms and shook my head.

“
That’s where you’re wrong. I’m lots of fun. Aren’t you having fun, Boots?”

I pursed my lips to keep them from spreading into a smile. He was right.
It
was
fun, being here with him.

“
It’s a shame you don’t want to marry
me
.” He raised his eyebrows. “Because I
am
available. We could have this much fun all the time. Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do. At least, not until classes start up again in the fall. What do you say, Boots? You want to marry me?”

I did a double take. “What?”

“You heard me.” He rested an elbow on the back of his chair.

This is so my luck. Logan runs away at the fleeting thought of marriage
, and this virtual stranger proposes after a week.

But we were just pretending, so it didn’t count. Still, there was something sweet about the moment; something endearing about the hopeful expression on his face as he waited for me to respond, even if it was in jest.

I laughed. “You’re funny.”

“
Aw, come on. You already know I can cook. I don’t steal the covers, I never snore, and I’m not above holding your purse in public. What more do you need?”

“
Well when you put it like that…” I traced my finger around the rim of my glass.

“
I’m husband material. Oh. I almost forgot. I do laundry, too.”

“I
do
hate laundry… it’s an interesting offer. But come to think of it, I had a very similar conversation with this boy in my kindergarten class. So I may already be engaged. Let me check with him and get back to you.”

“
Oh, I see how it is. You were a hot commodity in kindergarten, were you? A real heartbreaker, I bet.”

I shrugged.
“I got my fair share of homemade valentines.”

“
It doesn’t surprise me. Well, the offer’s on the table, Boots. If things fall through with the boyfriend. And this guy from kindergarten. I’ll be here all summer.”

“
I’m very flattered. It’s the single most romantic proposal I’ve ever received. I’ll give it careful consideration.”

“
That’s all I ask.” He smiled and the skin around his eyes folded into soft crinkles.

“
All right.” I sat up a little straighter in my chair and leaned my elbows on the table. “So you’re not going to tell me if you’ve ever been in love?”

“
No. I’m not.”

“
Why?”

“
Maybe it’s because I’m in love with
you
. You ever think of that?”

“
Thatcher…” I shifted in my seat. Pretend marriage proposals were one thing, but this was turning into more than harmless banter.

“
Relax, Boots. I’m kidding around. We’ve just met. Besides, you’re already taken, remember? You have a boyfriend, and maybe even a five-year-old fiancé. So don’t worry. I know where I stand.”

I studied his face. Was he backing down because he was kidding, or because he realized he made things awkward?

It didn’t matter, I decided, because Logan was coming home. This was a meaningless conversation between friends. It was just something to pass the time, and I wouldn’t let it be anything else.

“
Good,” I said. “Next question.”

“Wait, wait.” He held up a hand to silence me. “Hold up.”

“What?”

“It just occurred to me this
ain’t fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

He settled back in his chair, clasping his hands together and resting them behind his head. “It ain’t fair how you’re
grillin’
me. I should get to ask you some questions, too.”

“Not my problem.” I pulled my feet up onto the chair and hugged my knees. “You’re the one who made the rules.”

“Well I’m changing ’em, then.”

“You can’t just
change
them.”

“I can. And I did.” He grinned. “Your turn in the hot seat.”

I caught myself staring at his dimples and looked away. “I don’t think so.”

“You scared, Boots?”

I looked back at him. “No.” It was a lie. Thatcher had a way of cutting to the chase even when I
didn’t
invite him to, so I could only imagine what he had up his sleeve this time.

“Good then. Five questions.”

“Absolutely not!” There was no way I was sweating through five whole questions. “Two.”

“Four.”

“One,” I said.

He laughed. “How ’bout three? Come on, Boots. At least meet me halfway.”

I sighed. “Fine. Three… but no more. I mean it.”

“Three it is.” He wiggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together.

I took a deep breath and braced my hands on the armrests of my chair. “I get the feeling I’m going to regret this,” I said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll start off easy.” He paused to think. “Okay, here’s one. What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”

I scoffed and let my arms relax. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a warm-up question.”

“A warm-up question?” I asked.

“Uh-huh.”

I smiled and shook my head. “All right. I would say… vanilla.”

He smacked the table. “I
knew
you were gonna say vanilla!”

“No you didn’t!”

“I did.” He nodded. “I pegged you as a vanilla the minute I saw you.”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” His lips contorted into a half-smile.

I sat straighter in my chair and let my legs fall to the ground. “Are you saying I’m boring?”

He shrugged.

“I’ll have you know vanilla is
not
boring.” I pointed my finger and tapped it on the table for emphasis. “Vanilla is classic. And pure. And delicate. And it’s… it’s
exquisitel
y subtle. It’s the perfect flavor. And if you think it’s boring, well… maybe
you’re
the one who’s boring.” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows, daring him to disagree.

We were engaged in an unspoken staring contest, and I was determined to win. I tried to let my mind wander elsewhere, but I ended up noticing his eyelashes for the first time. They were thick and long, not the kind of eyelashes you’d expect to see on a guy who usually wore a camouflage baseball cap. I was so focused on his eyelashes I almost didn’t notice when his face broke into a smile.

He laughed. “Wow, Boots. You’ve given this some thought, haven’t you?”

“Nah.” I waved my hand in a dismissive motion. “I just made all that stuff up.”

“You’re pretty fast on your feet,” he said.

“Only when I want to be.”

“So… do you really like vanilla? Or did you make that up, too?”