Jack slid his gaze over to Addy. He was concerned about her. She seemed oblivious to his gaze though, leaning on the window to press her face against the glass. Her face was tear-stained, although she had stopped crying.

“Hey,” he said. “Where is the biggest, messiest sandwich in town?”

“Hmm? Oh. I don’t know. Maybe Boudreaux’s? The have New Orleans-style poboys.”

She sniffed, still moody. At least she’d answered his question. He wanted to ask what she was so upset about, but he held his tongue. Maybe later, when she had calmed down.

“Where do I go?” he asked.

“It’s on Main Street, next to the post office,” she murmured. She went back to looking out the window.

He drove to the restaurant, parking nearby. Boudreaux’s proved to be a tiny hole in the wall, all done in rough pine wood. Addy followed him in, obviously still wrapped up in her own thoughts.

It was a order at the front kind of place, so he looked at the menu hanging over the register. After a minute, he ordered a roast beef poboy and some fries. With some encouragement, she ordered a corneal-dusted oyster poboy.

Jack led the way to a table, and they settled in. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking, so he busied himself by tearing some paper towels off the roll sitting on the table and folding them into cranes.

“A bird?” she asked curiously when he placed the first one before her.

“A crane,” he said, sticking his tongue out as he tried to execute a particularly neat fold.

“Where did you learn origami?”

He peeked at her, and saw that she was watching him avidly, eyes curious. He suppressed a smile. He’d used origami to impress women before, but never to charm them out of a bad mood.

“My father taught me,” he said. “He was a surgeon, so he studied origami as a way to hone his physical dexterity. He always had some kind of paper creation in his pockets.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It was. He would come home from a long shift at the hospital, and empty his pockets. He’d have folded cranes and frogs and flowers, and I would play with them. It’s one of the things I missed most after he died.”

She bit her lip, but the look of curiosity was still clear on her face. A server brought over their food, and they were quiet for a minute while they tasted everything. Addy snagged one of Jack’s fries, offering a quick smile when he raised a brow.

He took a big bite of his sandwich, managing to get roast beef and lettuce everywhere. Addy laughed, and tore off another paper towel to offer him.

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his mouth. “You weren’t kidding about the level of messiness. God, this is good though.”

“I never joke about food.” She punctuated her remark by taking a huge bite of her sandwich, and sighing with pleasure as she chewed. “They really know how to make a sandwich here.”

“There’s something about watching a hot woman manhandle a sandwich the size of her head…” he teased.

“You’re just jealous that you didn’t get the oysters.” She smirked.

“So you want to know about my father’s death, right?” he ventured.

She made a considering face, and nodded. “I don’t want to bum you out. But yeah, I do.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you about him, if you will tell me why you left your restaurant crying earlier.”

She pulled a face but nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Okay,” he said, after taking another bite. “So my dad died of Huntington’s disease when I was thirteen.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yup. My parents were already married when they found out that my father had it. It’s inherited, obviously. From what I gather, my paternal grandfather probably had it too, but he died in a car accident when my father was a baby.”

She pushed the remnants of her sandwich away.

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you been tested to see if you’re a carrier?”

“I got tested when I turned eighteen,” he said, toying with one of the paper towel cranes. “It was negative. Mum made me. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have been tested.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Jack said truthfully. “What’s the point? It’s not like anything could be done if I did have the gene. I probably shouldn’t say this, as a medical professional, but I think some things are just destined. What difference would it make if I knew I had the gene for Huntington’s or not?”

“I guess that’s true,” she said as she nodded slowly. “But still, there are experimental procedures. More time to consider naturopathic or alternative therapies in conjunction with Western medicine’s best practices. If it were me—”

“But it’s not,” he said simply. He smiled at Addy to let her know he wasn’t judging.

“No. I suppose it isn’t.”

“Are you satisfied now?”

She scrunched up her face, making him chuckle.

“Let me know if it’s prying, seriously,” she said, shaking her finger at him. “Is your father the reason you got into medicine?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “I guess it is. I mean, he was a surgeon for years, and then he was treated by so many doctors… I guess I was around hospitals for all my formative years.”

He’d always known that, but had never said it aloud before.

“That’s not uncommon,” Addy said. “I’ve heard of a lot of doctors who spent an inordinate amount of time in hospitals as children. Either because of an illness themselves, or a family member.”

“Mmm,” Jack said noncommittally. “All right. Enough about me. Tell me about what made you cry at the restaurant.”

“Oh,” she said, turning pink. “It seems silly, after… all that.”

“And yet, it’s what I want to know. We made a deal, remember?”

“Well, you put it in perspective, to say the least. But… well, you know my ex?”

“Yeah. Jeremy. He’s a piece of work.”

“Well, he came in with his new girlfriend.”

“Into your restaurant?”

“Yep. Shannon. She’s a girl I went to high school with, and she hasn’t changed a bit since. She’s still blonde, pretty, and mean.”

“Did you kick them out?” he asked. The waiter came and took their plates away, and Jack was quick to drop to twenties on the table.

“Well… I did say, ‘get the F out of my restaurant’. But only after she said some really atrocious stuff to me. And then I cried, and I ran outside. That’s when you found me.”

“Jeez. Well, did you at least embarrass her in the bargain?”

“I mean, I made a scene. Everyone in the restaurant turned and looked.”

“Good girl,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Also, what a dick! To bring his new chick to your restaurant…”

“The whole thing was ridiculous.”

“Not to change the subject, but… do you feel like ice cream? I think there’s a place just a couple doors down.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Ice cream, after a poboy sandwich? Now that is decadent.”

“I’ll have you know, I treat all my wives this well. Especially the hot ones,” he said, winking at her. She flushed. The color looked good on her, the light pink bringing out the blue in her eyes.

“All right, well since you treat all your wives this way…”

He stood up and offered her his arm, and she rose and took it. Her touch was light, but he still felt a bit charged by it, like she was made of pure energy.

As they strolled down the block, he looked down on her. She was tall enough for a woman, but at 6’2 he dwarfed her nonetheless.

He could easily imagine them in bed together, her curled up at his side, reading a book. She would fit against him nicely, his tanned complexion standing out against her flawless pale one.

Then he made the mistake of thinking about why they would be in bed together. He could just imagine her riding his cock, her head tossed back and her mouth open. God, the things he could do to that sweet mouth…

“Wait,” she said, tugging on his arm. “This is Fifty Licks.”

“Oh,” he said.

Damn, even the way she says the name of the ice cream parlor is sexy.

She pushed open the door, releasing his arm. He followed her inside, unsettled. He wasn’t sure why he was having these fantasies about her.

Not that she wasn’t beautiful. She was, truly.

She just wasn’t his type. All of his exes looked like Rosalie; they were tall, thin, and willowy. Usually blonde, with a competitive personality. The problem was, he’d had Rosalie. She was the dream, right?

But he hadn’t ended up with her. If he remembered correctly, he’d dumped Rosalie pretty spectacularly.

He looked at Addy, who was bent over at the display case, examining the flavors. She was so petite, and lacking in the long-limbed grace that all his exes had in spades. There was something about her, though.

Something unique. She turned to him, her huge smile infectious. She was enthusiastic about a flavor, beckoning to him to come try it.

He walked over as she got two samples from the girl behind the counter. She offered one of the pink spoons with a little chocolate blob of ice cream to him, and he took it.

“Omigod,” she said, her eyes fluttering shut. She took a second taste, savoring it. “This is soooo good.”

It was good, but watching her enjoy it was better.

“We’ll have two of these,” he said to the girl behind the counter. “In waffle cones.”

Addy finished the sample and eyed him with amusement. “That’s the first one we tasted!”

“I know what I like,” he said with a shrug. “It’s that simple.”

“I wish I was more like that,” she said as he paid for their ice cream. “I’m always concerned that I’m missing something really great because of something that’s only good.”

“FOMO?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Fear of missing out. That’s the name for what you just described.”

“Ah. Well, I guess that’s it.”

She led the way out of the shop, where they found a spot at one of the tables. He watched her as she licked the sides of her ice cream, careful not to let it drip. He watched her pink tongue dark out and retreat over and over again.

He shook his head at himself, and refocused on his own ice cream cone. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up fantasizing about all the other things she could do with that little mouth of hers…

And that wasn’t the point of their outing today. Hell, it wasn’t really the point of anything between them, though he was starting to wonder about that.

What was the point of their… relationship? He could shove almost anyone under his mum’s nose. Why Addy?

He looked up at her and she gave him a lopsided grin. He chuckled.

He told himself that he didn’t need a reason. He could’ve woken up next to almost anyone in Reno. It wasn’t about her.

…right?