“I’m glad you had a good time. There are larger, more modern courses with all the bells and whistles, but I prefer to support local, family-owned businesses.”
My heart squeezes. Could this man be any more perfect? “That’s admirable, and not just because you have history with this place.”
We head back inside, and he excuses himself to say goodbye to Sam. I wander over to the claw machine, trying to give them a moment of privacy. I study the contents, a slow grin spreading over my face, and then I feed a dollar into the payment slot. The lights flash and an upbeat melody begins to play as I maneuver the joystick, lining the claw up with my target.
Let’s see if you’ve still got the magic touch.
I smash the drop button and watch as the claw slowly descends, capturing the plush below. Adrenaline floods my system as it retracts, and I silently will it to hold. I’m fresh out of dollar bills, but this was too good to pass up.
When my prize drops into the chute, I fish it out and turn to find Knox waiting.
He gives me a curious look, and I present him with my gift: a stuffed gray cat with a pale pink bow tied around its neck. “It’s not a tattoo, but I guess this will have to do for now. Rest assured, I will be working on my game so I have a fighting chance next time.”
“Next time?” He grins, revealing the dimples I love so much. “I like the sound of that. What do you say we grab something to eat and get to know each other a little better?”
5
KNOX
La Reina delTaco is packed, but we manage to score a booth at the back of the bustling restaurant. It’s one of my favorite places to eat in the city because the family who owns it is as warm and welcoming as the food. And the food? Unmatched. I inhale deeply, savoring the familiar scent of seared meat, roasting chiles, and the spicy blend of garlic and cumin that already has my stomach rumbling.
“This place is a vibe,” Ava says, craning her neck to take in the colorful artwork that covers the walls. “If the food is half as good as the atmosphere, I can see why you chose it.”
“La Reina del Taco has the best authentic Mexican cuisine in the area.” I grin. “Everything is made fresh on-site, including the tortillas.”
She picks up her menu and flips it open, her eyes going wide at the endless options. “What do you recommend?”
“The tacos al pastor is my go-to dish, but there’s really not a bad choice to be made.” I push my menu to the end of the table. No point looking when I always get the same thing. “The margaritas are also fantastic. I recommend the prickly pear.”
Ava lays her menu on top of mine. “Sold.”
The server approaches, and we place our orders.
When she disappears into the kitchen, Ava levels her gaze at me. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Tell me the least interesting thing about yourself.”
“Theleastinteresting?”
She shrugs. “It’s way less pressure than thinking up the most interesting thing.”
Fair enough. “My middle name is Bernard.”
She bursts out laughing and clamps a hand over her mouth, trying to smother her giggles. It’s fucking adorable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just…you don’t seem like a Bernard.”
“Tell me about it. When most people hear the name, they picture a curmudgeonly octogenarian.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “And, for what it’s worth, you never have to apologize for being honest.”
Hell, it’s refreshing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date with a woman who felt comfortable enough to be herself. Too often the women in my life are trying to be something they’re not in hopes of securing WAG status.
“Enough about me, though.” The server appears, and I quietly thank her as she places our drinks on the table, along with chips and salsa. “What about you?”
“I’m an open book.” Ava grins, wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” I want to know her favorite color, her proudest moment, her worst fears. I want to know what makes her tick and how to make her happy. I want it all…but maybe we should start with the basics. “What brought you to Atlanta?”
“I came here for work, but you probably guessed as much.” She takes a sip of her margarita and then licks the sugar from her full bottom lip. “I’m a mental health consultant here on a nine-month contract. Hopefully, if it goes well, I can turn it into a permanent position.”
Nine-months?
It’s a lot better than one night.