She grinned. “And what would those be?”
Even though I knew it would probably irk a woman like Mia—one who was refined and cared about class and style, I leaned in on the table with my elbows. “What do you like to do when you’re not mending hearts?” I asked, my tone serious like a newscaster.
“Hmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes to think. After a few seconds, she popped them open and replied, “I like pi?a coladas and walks in the rain.”
It was my turn to tsk at her. “Not getting off that easy, Miss Martinelli.”
“Fine then. What I enjoy doing is probably a huge bore to you, but you asked for it.”
“Yep, hit me with it.”
“I like the usual stuff like books, movies, and TV. I like traveling. And…” A little flush filled her cheeks.
“And what?”
After a hearty gulp of wine, she replied, “I like to knit.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re shitting me.”
She narrowed her black eyes. “No, I’m not. My late grandmother taught me how to knit and crotchet.”
At her still seething anger and embarrassment, I held up my hands. “I’m sorry I found it so shocking that a smoking hot woman like yourself did something so old-school and nerdy as knit.”
She shrugged. “You asked, so I was honest.”
“You’re right, I did.” Grabbing another garlic knot out of the basket, I grinned at her. “You think you would ever make me something?”
“Hmm, like a dick cozy for those cold nights when no woman wants to put up with your relentless cockiness?” she asked, with fake sweetness.
Choking, I fumbled for my wine before taking a long swig. When I recovered, I couldn’t help laughing at her fiery response. “I would be honored if you would make me a dick cozy. I would wear it with pride and think fondly of you.”
“Oh you would, would you?” she asked, her lips curving upward.
“Yes, I would.” With a wink, I added, “But make it extra-large because I want it to fit.”
Mia snickered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Pauley returned to the table with our dinner. “Here ya go. Watch the plates, cause they’re hot. Lemme know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, cuz,” Mia replied, with a smile.
“No problemo.”
Once Pauley left us, I eyed Mia before I started cutting my steak and pasta. “At least we know we have something in common. We both like to read.”
“Seriously?”
I slurped a strand of pasta into my mouth. “Yeah, I read all the time when we’re on the road.”
“I’m not sure the articles in Playboy count.”
I snorted. “I have more varied tastes than that, thank you very much.”
Mia chewed thoughtfully on her lasagna. Once she swallowed, she asked, “So tell me what’s your favorite kind of book?”
“I’m going to sound like a total freak, but I love fantasy—Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, you know, shit like that.”
“Interesting.”
“What? You’re not going to give me shit for that?”
She shook her head. “I think it’s wonderful you read, period, so I’m not going to knock you for liking high fantasy books.”
“But for you, it’s all about romance novels.”
“Yes and no. I like to read non-fiction stuff too.” She finished off a bite of chicken parmesan from her Italian sampler. “I’m kind of a royalty nerd. Love the Tudors.”
“I liked the show.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. The historical inaccuracies were off the charts, and it was basically a thinly veiled excuse for porn.”
I grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
“I would figure as much from you,” she replied with a smile.
“Speaking of romance novels, I have a question for you.”
Eyeing me warily, she took a sip of wine. “Okay.”