2
" Melba comes over and takes our baskets away, interrupting the conversation. Once she’s gone, my eyes drop to the table. Holy crap. The only things left are two placemats, mine and Dev’s. His looks brand new, but mine, on the other hand, is covered in a sample of every bit of food that passed through my lips. Fish? Yes. Fish coating? Yes. Hushpuppy guts? Yes. Coleslaw? Of course. It’s like a Chicken Licken bomb went off at our table, but only left shrapnel in front of me. How embarrassing! Now he knows I eat like a total warthog! Dev doesn’t say a word. Instead, he lifts his placemat up, reaches over and slides my placemat to his side of the table, and then places his down in front of me. Now he’s the warthog, and I’m the princess who wouldn’t dare drop a speck of hushpuppy anywhere but on her napkin. I know it’s crazy, but tears well up in my eyes. This has to be the single most chivalrous, charming thing a man has ever done for me. Forget opening doors and throwing jackets over puddles. When a man covers for me, taking the heat for my horrible table manners, he wins my loyalty for life. When Melba returns with sweet tea refills, she looks down at the table and smiles. She doesn’t need to say anything; she just looks at me and winks. My heart feels like it’s filling up so full with happiness that it’s going to explode. “You "
― Elle Casey , Wrong Place, Right Time (The Bourbon Street Boys, #2)
