“You’re right about having something solid in your stomach with the alcohol,” he agreed. He finished filling their glasses and capped the wine, returning it to its chilling sleeve in the basket. “I brought some of Grandmother Margaret’s chicken salad, too. It’s really good and made with almost no mayo.”
Hope’s stomach ached from hunger. “Sounds delish.”
“Would you like to enjoy our wine first, or are you ready to go ahead and eat?”
“Eating sounds great.”
“Okay,” he said, toasting her glass. “Then let’s get to it. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” she said, taking a grateful sip of wine.
Brent passed her his glass to hold and pulled a small container out of the basket. “I forgot about this, but you probably won’t want it.” The small glass jar contained an orange shredded mixture dotted with red bits. “It’s Grandmother’s famous pimento cheese.”
“Oh, yum. I mean, I would love to taste it. Maybe on a very small piece of bread.”
He started to prepare her plate, cutting off a slim sliver of bread from the loaf.
“Okay, not that small,” she said. “Maybe a bit larger.”
He tried again with a second piece, but it honestly wasn’t tons bigger. “You know what?” Hope said like she’d just thought of it, because she had. “Why don’t we split the loaf?”
Brent’s eyebrows rose. “Split it? Are you sure?”
She needed him to hurry this up, because she was about to start drooling at any second. She’d barely had any breakfast, and then Brent had whisked her away for this adventure shortly after that. So she’d never had time for that snack. “Yes, please.”
He tore what was left of the French bread in half and handed her portion to her.
It took all the strength she had not to sink her teeth into it. Immediately.
Without butter. Or cheese, even.
“I kind of like this new healthy appetite of yours,” he said with a chuckle, continuing to fill her plate. “Maybe now I won’t have to eat dessert alone?”
She’d eat ten desserts at the moment. “Don’t push your luck,” she said instead. Jackie was going to kill her. “A little more chicken salad, please?”
Brent looked up. “You can have anything you want. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me.”
She was unnerved by the compliment because she’d enjoyed it. And this made her feel squirmy. Brent was looking at her the way he should have been looking at her sister.
Stop and live in the moment.
All this was great for Jackie. She and Brent were becoming close.
By proxy.
“So, yes or no to the pimento cheese?” he asked, unscrewing the container’s lid.
“Yes. Please.”
“On the plate or crackers?”
“Ooh, we have crackers?”
Brent chuckled. “Maybe you’ve been no-carbs for too long.”
She grinned. “That’s just what I was thinking.”
“Right, well, you’ll want to be careful easing out of it.” He handed her the plate, looking worried. “You don’t want to overdo it right away. You could shock your system.”
“You’re right,” she said, nibbling absently on a pimento cheese–loaded cracker. “Mmm, this is heavenly.” She paused in thought while Brent filled his own plate. “I thought pimento cheese was a southern thing?”
“Grandmother grew up in Atlanta.”
“How interesting. I didn’t know that.”
“She also has a weakness for pralines.” Brent winked, and she laughed, unable to imagine Margaret having any weaknesses at all. “We all have our downfalls, I suppose. What are yours?”
“My weaknesses, you mean?” she asked, sampling some of the chicken salad, which was delicious.
“Yeah, those.” He dug into his food, apparently hungry, too. That made Hope feel about a billion times better. She hated chowing down alone, which was why Jackie was no fun to eat with. While she admired her sister’s resolve, Hope had no clue how she lived that way.
“Maybe I haven’t got any.” She adjusted her hat. “Weaknesses, that is.”
“Hmm. Maybe not.”
“How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty.”
“Is that so?” She knew her tone sounded flirty, but she didn’t care. She was having fun, and this was totally innocent besides. Just a picnic between friends. With wine. On the water. And he was maybe the best-looking guy she’d ever seen.
She took a long swallow of wine before asking, “Such as?”
“I’ll let you in on a secret, but you have to swear you’ll take it to your grave.”
She laughed. “I swear.”
He sipped from his wine with a Cheshire cat grin. “I’m abysmal at wardrobe.”
She found this impossible to believe. She’d only been here two days, but each time she’d seen him, Brent had been dressed impeccably, even in a casual way.
“It’s true.” He held up his hand. “I only order online, and when I do, I copy the outfits on the models exactly.”
Hope snorted wine through her nose and had to grab a napkin. “Do not.”
He pointed to his T-shirt, shorts, and shoes, and named a well-known outdoors store. “Spring Catalogue. I even bookmarked the URL.”
She hooted. “Brent.”
“What I was wearing yesterday?” He named another high-end cyber store. “Last summer’s sale. I bookmarked that page as well.”
She was cackling so hard she nearly spilled her wine. “You have to stop,” she said, catching her breath. “There is no way you only order online. What about your business clothes?” In his line of work, she was sure he had several nice suits.
“Believe it or not, there are stores where one can walk in and have an entire professional ensemble put together—and tailored.”
She sighed happily. “So, on your own, you’re a total fashion fail?”
He nodded. “Exactly opposite from you.” He studied her sundress and sandals. “I like the new look—I really do. It’s perfect for this week and summer.”
Hope ducked her chin, embarrassed yet pleased by another compliment. “Thank you.”