Read Online Lovers and Strangers by Candace Schuler - Free Book Online
Authors: Candace Schuler
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Venice Beach yet, have you?" Jack said, delighted—and amazed, given her strict religious upbringing—with her unprejudiced reactions to everything she saw. She drank it all in like a thirsty sponge, appearing neither to condemn nor to judge but merely to absorb.
Faith shook her head in answer to his question. "Sammie-Jo said we'd go as soon as she has a weekend off." She drew her fascinated gaze away from a same sex couple wearing studded leather and nose rings to look at him. "She says weekends are the best time to see it because that's when all the crazies are there." Her smile was bright with anticipation. "I can hardly wait."
"She's right," Jack agreed, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to say he'd take her there himself, whenever she wanted to go. "So," he said, forcibly reminding himself of the reason they were together. Food. And a serious talk about the inadvisability of any... relationship between them. "What would you like to eat? Italian? Chinese? Mexican? Indian? Middle Eastern? Thai? Vietnamese?" His brow rose questioningly. "Feel free to stop me if anything sounds good."
"It all sounds good."
"Then what sounds best? What kind of food do you like?"
"Well, as far as ethnic food goes, there were three pizza parlors back in Pine Hollow. And one Mexican restaurant. And I liked them just fine when I got to go. But I've never tasted any of the other kinds of food you mentioned." Her tone was unconsciously wistful. "So you choose. Whatever you want will be fine with me," she said, and meant it.
Jack decided to approach it another way. "Is there anything you don't like? Any food you absolutely won't eat?"
Faith sent him a rueful, sideways smile. "Not so far." She patted her hip. "Unfortunately."
Jack smiled back before he could stop himself. "All right, then. We'll have dim sum."
"That sounds wonderful," she agreed instantly. "What is it?"
"It's sort of a Chinese smorgasbord. You know what a smorgasbord is, don't you?" he teased.
Faith rolled her eyes like a twelve-year-old who'd found an adult's question totally lame.
It was all Jack could do not to cup her face in his hands and kiss the silly expression away. He took a quick half step to the side, away from temptation. "Dim sum is the Chinese equivalent of a smorgasbord," he told her in a deliberately professorial voice, trying to quash the sudden playfulness between them before it edged over into outright flirting. He hadn't asked her to lunch so he could flirt with her. "It's mostly finger foods like fried shrimp toast, wontons, spring rolls, different kinds of small meatballs and all kinds of steamed dumplings from pork to shrimp to sweetened bean paste, but sometimes there are little cups of soup and stir-fried dishes," he added, encouraged to elaborate by the expression of rapt attention on her face. "It depends on what the cooks have made that day. The waiters bring it out on carts with everything in separate servings on small plates. You just point to what you want when the cart goes by and it's yours. When you're finished they count up all the little plates on your table and tell you what you owe."
"Oh, stop," Faith said, and held up her hand. "You're making me drool all over myself." The smile she turned on him was dazzling. There was no holding back, no shy little sunbeam peeking out from behind the clouds. It was pure, unadulterated sunshine, beaming down on everyone within her orbit.
When a too-cool-for-words Hollywood type with a slicked-back ponytail, Italian suit and cellular phone, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, Jack glared at him and reached for Faith's hand. "This way," he said, threading his fingers through hers as he led her down the street toward the tiny restaurant he'd selected.
Faith was in heaven.
This is me, she thought, scarcely able to believe it, Faith McCray from Pine Hollow, Georgia, walking down Westwood Boulevard in Los Angeles in the middle of a working day, holding hands with a man. A gorgeous man. No
Faith shook her head in answer to his question. "Sammie-Jo said we'd go as soon as she has a weekend off." She drew her fascinated gaze away from a same sex couple wearing studded leather and nose rings to look at him. "She says weekends are the best time to see it because that's when all the crazies are there." Her smile was bright with anticipation. "I can hardly wait."
"She's right," Jack agreed, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to say he'd take her there himself, whenever she wanted to go. "So," he said, forcibly reminding himself of the reason they were together. Food. And a serious talk about the inadvisability of any... relationship between them. "What would you like to eat? Italian? Chinese? Mexican? Indian? Middle Eastern? Thai? Vietnamese?" His brow rose questioningly. "Feel free to stop me if anything sounds good."
"It all sounds good."
"Then what sounds best? What kind of food do you like?"
"Well, as far as ethnic food goes, there were three pizza parlors back in Pine Hollow. And one Mexican restaurant. And I liked them just fine when I got to go. But I've never tasted any of the other kinds of food you mentioned." Her tone was unconsciously wistful. "So you choose. Whatever you want will be fine with me," she said, and meant it.
Jack decided to approach it another way. "Is there anything you don't like? Any food you absolutely won't eat?"
Faith sent him a rueful, sideways smile. "Not so far." She patted her hip. "Unfortunately."
Jack smiled back before he could stop himself. "All right, then. We'll have dim sum."
"That sounds wonderful," she agreed instantly. "What is it?"
"It's sort of a Chinese smorgasbord. You know what a smorgasbord is, don't you?" he teased.
Faith rolled her eyes like a twelve-year-old who'd found an adult's question totally lame.
It was all Jack could do not to cup her face in his hands and kiss the silly expression away. He took a quick half step to the side, away from temptation. "Dim sum is the Chinese equivalent of a smorgasbord," he told her in a deliberately professorial voice, trying to quash the sudden playfulness between them before it edged over into outright flirting. He hadn't asked her to lunch so he could flirt with her. "It's mostly finger foods like fried shrimp toast, wontons, spring rolls, different kinds of small meatballs and all kinds of steamed dumplings from pork to shrimp to sweetened bean paste, but sometimes there are little cups of soup and stir-fried dishes," he added, encouraged to elaborate by the expression of rapt attention on her face. "It depends on what the cooks have made that day. The waiters bring it out on carts with everything in separate servings on small plates. You just point to what you want when the cart goes by and it's yours. When you're finished they count up all the little plates on your table and tell you what you owe."
"Oh, stop," Faith said, and held up her hand. "You're making me drool all over myself." The smile she turned on him was dazzling. There was no holding back, no shy little sunbeam peeking out from behind the clouds. It was pure, unadulterated sunshine, beaming down on everyone within her orbit.
When a too-cool-for-words Hollywood type with a slicked-back ponytail, Italian suit and cellular phone, stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her, Jack glared at him and reached for Faith's hand. "This way," he said, threading his fingers through hers as he led her down the street toward the tiny restaurant he'd selected.
Faith was in heaven.
This is me, she thought, scarcely able to believe it, Faith McCray from Pine Hollow, Georgia, walking down Westwood Boulevard in Los Angeles in the middle of a working day, holding hands with a man. A gorgeous man. No
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