Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(49)

"Buffet," he tells the waitress. "For two."

"Buffet?" I ask.

"Load up." He nods.

The food is in trays set up in another room. I am expected to serve myself. It feels awkward, and I keep looking at him, expecting to commit some faux pas, but no one pays me any mind, except Jason.

By the time we're done, my plate is so heavy with food that I have to carry it with both hands. We sit together again.

"Even at the castle, people don't sit at their own tables," I explain. "There are benches and people sit where they please, where there is room. There is a pub in the old town outside the castle walls with trestle tables and a shelf on the wall with keyed boxes. Patrons bring their own stein for beer and lock it up on the shelves for when they come back."

"What's the castle like? Is it really a castle?"

"It's three hundred years old, but my ancestors began building it a hundred years before that. The Old Keep is smaller and at the foot of the mountain. It is bigger than this building, but not by much, and it is square. The New Keep is on the mountain slope. It is more what you would think of as a castle. It has five towers and a curtain wall thirty feet high, but it is more of a palace than a castle."

"Wow, must be really posh."

I shake my head. "No. It's cold and drafty. The walls are stone with tapestries to hold in the heat from hearths in winter, and it is hot in the summer when the sun heats the stones."

"Wow, your castle isn't air conditioned?"

"No, but it is beautiful. The interior of the island had a limestone quarry before it flooded. The walls are bright white and catch the sunlight on bright days until they glow. It looks like magic."

"I saw pictures of it," he confesses. "I was curious. You make it sound way more interesting. I'd like to see it someday."

I stick my fork in something Jason called "SOS," and scoop it onto a piece of toasted bread. It's a little too salty for my taste but reminds me of the fish stews I used to eat at home.

"You like it?"

"Yes. Why is it called SOS?"

"My dad used to call it that. He was in the Army. Stands for 'shit on a shingle.'"

I look down at my plate with wide eyes.

"It's just a name, honey. Eat up."

There is so much, I can barely finish half. Do Americans eat like this every day? I would not know. I only see people eat in the cafeteria, and the food in the cafeteria is barely edible.

"Do we have to go now that we're done?"

"Nah, they'll let us sit here all day if we want."

"Oh. What is your home like? Do you have a house?"

"Eh, had. I grew up in a trailer park."

I blink a few times.

"You don't know what that is, do you?" Jason sighs.

I shake my head.

"Trailers. Ah, they call them mobile homes now, but they're trailers, like the big trucks pull, you know?"

"You lived in one of those?" I ask, astonished. "Why?"

"Not like one of those, no, but it's the same idea. It's a long rectangle thing with wheels, and you can pull it with a truck. They make them in a factory. It had windows and carpet and all that, like a regular house, and we lived in one because it was cheap."

"Cheap?"

"Dad was a pipe fitter." He shrugs. "Mom didn't work; she took care of me and my little sister."

My chest tightens. He refers to them in the past tense. I should say something, but what?

Before I can answer in my own question, he cuts me off.

"So we had our lovely home. A doublewide."

I poke my food. "There is nothing, I…."

"What?"

"I… it seems like you are unhappy with where you grew up."

"Well, we can't all be born in castles."

I turn in my seat so I can face him. "Jason, listen to me. I do not care where you were born. If you were born in a trailer or a castle, it matters nothing to me. You are who you are."

"I've heard that a lot," he sighs. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it matters when—"

He cuts himself off, and shakes his head.

"When what?"

He slips his arm around me. "Ana, there's stuff in my life I just don't want to talk about. Let's do something fun, huh?"

I nod. "Yes. I would like fun."

"Good, come on. Have you ever been to a mall?"

"No?"

"Holy God, you've been here for what, over two years now and you've never been to the mall? Come on!"

Jason pays the bill and leaves money on the table. I blink a few times at that. Why is he giving the waitress extra money? No one does that where I come from. I wonder if I should ask him, but hold my tongue.

We sit on a bench outside and wait for another bus. This one takes us up a ramp and onto the highway. I glance to my left and gasp.

It's huge.

"Is that the mall? It's bigger than the castle!"

"Yeah, that's the mall," Jason says, leaning against my back as I stare.

"It's so big. What's in there?"

"I'll show you. Just wait."