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“Excellent—you’re adventurous.” He leaned close. “I wouldn’t touch the smalahov, boiled sheep’s head, either.” Smiling, he ordered two koldtbords, a beet salad, and kumla. “Ah, they have Bergen’s best aquavit here. I’m impressed. Let’s order a couple of shots.”
“Count me in.” Seeing his renewed exuberance, she relaxed and teased him about his enormous appetite. A table by the window opened, and she waited for him to sit before digging into her platter.
“Skål.” Mark toasted her with a glass of aquavit.
Confounded by her inability to resist him even the slightest bit, she reciprocated his toast with a generous sip. Hopefully, the aquavit would mute any lingering doubts about his phone conversation. Magnetically drawn to Mark’s chiseled features, intelligence, humor, and compassion, she sensed the electricity crackling between them. Meanwhile, she sampled another slice of gravlax, and to her surprise, found the savory koldtbord meats and cheeses scrumptious. “The dill tastes delicious.”
“This is like being home for me. Thank you.” After devouring his first koldtbord, Mark tucked into a second platter.
“My pleasure. You must miss Norway.” A pang of guilt about taking time away from work struck her, but she ignored it. Work could wait because right now, she felt her heart opening in ways she hadn’t imagined possible one week ago.
“Always. My heart belongs to Bergen, and I miss kumla. And the aquavit.” He raised his glass and leaned closer.
“Have you considered staying in Bergen while you’re recovering?” Spending time in his favorite place might comfort him and speed his recovery. Her question must have struck gold because a dreamy quality filled his gaze. Whatever he was thinking, he seemed far away from the café.
“Bergen would be great. And now I’m free to go wherever I want.” He swirled the remaining aquavit in his glass, coating the sides of the glass with clear liquor. The corners of his mouth tilted into a smile.
“What about New York? It’s such an exciting city, and it must be great for dating.”Somehow, she needed to squelch the insidious doubts bothering her. Attempting to catch Mark in a lie without being obvious, she projected nonchalance despite her not-so-innocent question.
“Maybe for some.” A frown crossed his face.
What did that mean? Unable to interpret his response with any accuracy, she opted to let it go. “Tell me about Bergen. It sounds comforting to have a solid home base where you can return.”
“I can’t imagine life any other way. I am Bergensk before I am Norwegian.” He beamed, and a grin sprang across his face as he circled the rim of the aquavit glass with a finger. “Although I’ve been in America for many years, growing up in Bergen shaped me and remains a huge part of my identity. How about you?”
“My family moved so much we didn’t have one home base. To this day, I still don’t.” Whenever a yearning for permanent roots struck, she ran faster and traveled more to resist growing them. Having avoided building a life anywhere, she bought the Seattle condo as a practical necessity in anticipation of Kingsley Tech extending its territory into America. Another hearty sip of the aquavit burned her throat, and the alcohol hit her bloodstream fast, resulting in a strong buzz.
“Careful. Aquavit will make you invincible.”
“Given how beat up I feel this week, I could use some invincibility.” She set down her glass and picked a cucumber slice from the platter.
“You’re stronger than you realize.”
“I appreciate your flattery.” Reassured to see the mischievous sparkle back in Mark’s gaze after last night’s strange episode, she unwound a bit. In the early afternoon sunshine, his night terror seemed a one-time blip and unlikely to reoccur. Sitting in this chic deli, he radiated only ease. Maybe he spoke the truth, and no mystery girlfriend waited in New York, pining for him.
“How about I indulge you with another shot? In Bergen, we make our aquavit from fermented caraway and dill seeds, then store it in sherry casks. And here’s the best part.” He leaned forward and winked. “We send those casks on a sea journey around the world to mature—a six-month vacation.”
“Not bad. Speaking of time off, I could use a sunny beach holiday.” A long holiday with lots of sex would be a welcome break from the past year and she envisioned lounging on an island.
“I agree. Let’s skip forest hiking and head for the tropics.”
“Perfect.” While she’d planned to keep her defenses, she found their chemistry melting her resolve and soon forgot her intentions. The goal of the brunch was to distract him with something happy, but the change of scenery suited her too by crowding out images she’d rather forget.
After lunch, she and Mark strolled a couple of blocks along the Ballard Locks and enjoyed the parade of boat traffic as it crossed the narrow canal in single file. Cool breezes rippled across the water, and the sun emerged at frequent intervals, creating warm patches on the ground. Fiery orange and yellow leaves lined the sidewalk and contrasted with the deep-blue sky. Despite the gorgeous day, she sagged onto her crutches as her energy flagged. “I love it out here, but I’m afraid my ankle is swelling again.”
“Let’s get you home and ice it. Here, take a seat, and I’ll drive the car around and pick you up.” Mark steered her to an open park bench with one hand on her lower back.
“Thank you.” Increasing pain overtook her desire to remain in the rare fall sunshine. Grateful to get off her feet, she soaked up the day’s cheeriness and stored it away for the coming winter. With the sun heating her back, she could ignore her doubts and appreciate the moment. Almost.
****
Once back home, Tess limped to the couch and allowed Mark to help her settle in. With her leg elevated on a suede-covered pillow, she hoped the pain would subside and not distract from the evening ahead. Outside her window, banks of clouds lowered over Lake Union, obscuring the earlier sunlight and dimming the living room’s light.
“Let’s take a look at your wound.” Mark flipped on a bronze floor lamp and removed her surgical boot. Raising his phone’s flashlight, he examined the incision site, and his eyebrows knit together as he frowned at the puffy ankle. “No signs of infection, but lots of swelling. Let’s apply ice, get you a dose of anti-inflammatories, and recheck it in a couple of hours.”
“For the record, I hate being an invalid.” Relieved to be off her feet, she sank into the oversized cushions, grabbed a warm, fuzzy blanket, and tossed it over her legs just as the doorbell rang.
“Don’t get up—I’ll answer it.” Mark hopped from the couch and strode across the room to open the front door.
