Read Online Frenched Series Bundle by Melanie Harlow - Free Book Online

flies when you’re having fun.” I thanked the waiter who handed me the menu and opened it up.
    “ Are you having fun?”
    I looked up and saw Lucas studying me curiously. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”
    “Yes. But I don’t need to be convinced to stay in Paris. Have you made a decision yet?”
    “I’m this close.” I held up one hand with my thumb and finger just an inch apart and continued in a whisper. “After some wine, it might be official.”
    “OK, then, this bottle better be good.” He considered the list and looked up at me through thick, dark lashes. “What would you like?”
    “Hmmmm. I really loved what you poured for me last night. The one from the Rhône Valley.”
    “Want to try another Rhône or something different?”
    “You pick. I’ll just enjoy. Oh, could you order me a salad like the one that’s on that lady’s plate over there?” I tried to point without being obvious.
    Twisting in his chair, Lucas looked behind him. “It’s a Salad Niçoise,” he said. “Now you can order it.”
    “But your French is so much better.” Lacing my fingers together under my chin, I attempted a winning smile. “Really, I don’t speak it well at all. Could you order it, please?”
    He shook his head. “What are you going to do when I’m not around to order for you? You should do it. Don’t be scared.”
    The thought of uttering French words in front of Lucas made me sweat a little, but when the waiter came around, I managed to order the salad and even ask for some water. Lucas ordered the wine—at least that’s what I assumed all the rapid-fire French was about—and a Salad Niçoise also.
    “See? Was that so hard?” he asked when we were alone again.
    “I guess not,” I admitted, smoothing my napkin onto my lap. I knew he was right about learning to speak for myself, because even if I did stay, I couldn’t expect Lucas to spend all his time with me. This was probably just a one-day deal. A hollow pit formed in my stomach, and I realized how sad I would be if I didn’t see him again after today. When I looked up, I saw him watching me with a serious expression on his face.
    “Mia, would—”
    But he was interrupted by the waiter approaching with a pitcher of water and two glasses. Lucas poured water for us, and I waited for him to say whatever it was he’d been about to say, but he didn’t.
    “You were going to ask me something?” I prompted.
    He shook his head and took a drink of water. “No.”
    “Yes, you were. Right before the water arrived. You said my name.”
    His brow furrowed, and either he had a good poker face or he really hadn’t had anything of importance to say. “I don’t remember, I guess.”
    My chest caved a little, and I picked up my water. What is this? Why am I getting weird and mopey about Lucas? Last night I hadn’t even liked him that much. So my first impression of him had been off, so what? I found him attractive in spite of the scruff, big deal. So beyond the smartass mouth was a curious mind and a romantic soul, whatever. I hadn’t come here to meet a man; I’d come here to forget one. Straightening up in my seat, I vowed to quit allowing serious thoughts to get in the way of a good time.
    Our wine arrived, and I watched as the waiter poured the ruby-colored liquid into glasses. My insides got quivery with excitement the way they always do when I’m anticipating a really good glass of wine. I must have bounced a little in my chair or something because Lucas laughed. “Excited?”
    “Totally. Can I drink it now or do I have to let it sit for a while so oxygen wafts around above it or something?” I waved a hand in the air over my glass.
    “No, you can drink it now.”
    “Good.” I picked up my glass and breathed in the aroma as if I knew what I was doing. “So you know about wine?”
    “A little. My family has a small vineyard in Provence.”
    I lowered the glass. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes. In fact, this wine is very similar to