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“I’m not sure how much I can eat after all that cake at the reception.”
“I think you’ll manage,” he said.
He stood to get the food from the coolers. First he scooped tossed salad on her salad plate, then he opened the hot food containers. When she reached toward a spoon to help herself to some delicious-smelling herbed risotto, Sed snatched the spoon away from her.
“Allow me,” he said.
“Sed, I can serve myself.”
“I never doubted it,” he said. “But just because you can doesn’t mean you have to. Let me take care of you tonight. Without argument. It would really mean a lot to me.”
She drew her eyebrows together. “Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
“I care about you too, but I don’t feel the need to serve you to demonstrate it.”
“Well, tonight I do have that need. Can you handle it? Someone who loves you trying to take care of you?”
“I never said I couldn’t handle it.”
But as he filled her plate with food, she had to admit that it did bother her. She’d promised herself long ago that she’d never allow a man to rule her life and for some reason, this felt like a step in that direction.
“Can I serve you?” she asked, thinking that might make her feel a bit more comfortable about allowing him to choose how much and what kind of food she would receive.
“You can service me,” he said, his voice gruff with desire.
Jessica pursed her lips. Was he trying to get a rise out of her? She knew her temper turned him on, but she really didn’t want to argue tonight. Especially not here, where everything was so romantic due to his thoughtfulness.
“I think I’ll let you service me,” she retorted.
“I am willing, if not able,” he said with a crooked grin. “The table is kind of low for me to get at you properly. Wasn’t the shower enough?”
“You know I never get enough of you.”
He grinned cockily and opened another container of food. The scents of basil and garlic, tomato and oregano stirred her appetite. She loved tortellini and couldn’t wait to see what it was stuffed with.
When he had Jessica’s plate full and arranged as he wanted it, Sed took his seat again. Everything looked and smelled delicious and the tortellini was stuffed with mushrooms and sausage—her favorite combination, which she was certain was not a coincidence. Still, she picked at her food, hardly sampling a bite.
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Sed said, having no qualms about devouring his own dinner.
“What bothers me?”
“The fact that I fixed your plate.”
“What bothers me is that you decided what I wanted and how much and where on my plate it should go.”
“I know you don’t like me to make decisions for you, but don’t you think you’re over-reacting?”
“Probably,” she admitted. “But I can’t help it.”
“Try,” he challenged. “Learn to compromise.”
“You don’t compromise either,” she said, spearing a bit of yellow squash and popping it into her mouth.
“I compromise with you more than I’ve ever had to compromise with anyone else,” he said. “The problem is, we both like to be in charge.”
She couldn’t argue with that. It was blatantly obvious.
“So if you let me be in charge every once in a while, I’ll let you be in charge occasionally, and we’ll both have that need met. The rest of the time we can butt heads and argue if you like.”
“I don’t like to argue,” she said.
“Right,” he said, the word twisted with sarcasm. “And I’m sure that’s why you became an attorney. Because you hate arguing so much you decided to do it for a living.”
She flushed as she realized he was totally right. She loved to argue. In fact, no one argued with her the way Sed did. And few men would have been strong enough to give it to her as good as she gave it. Most men were afraid to cross her. Not because she was scary, but because they were attracted to her and thought by bending to her will, she’d be more likely to give them what they wanted. But not Sed. Sed pushed her relentlessly. It was one of the things she loved most about him. And the very thing about him that drove her crazy.
“So I like to argue,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not the only one. You like to argue too.”
Sed chuckled. “I only argue with you, babe. With everyone else, I boss and they obey.”
“Just try to boss me and see if I obey,” she said in a clipped tone.
“I know bossing doesn’t work with you,” he said. “I thought maybe taking you up in a hot air balloon and asking you nicely would do the trick.”
“Do I not make you happy the way I am?”
“Of course you do. Never doubt that.”
“Then where is this coming from?” she asked.
He stared out the basket at the passing treetops for a long moment. “It’s hard for me sometimes. To step back. To let you do your own thing without interfering. It makes me feel less of a man.”
She gaped at him. Had she really made him feel that way? “Sed, that doesn’t make you less of a man.”
“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “I’m learning to compromise. But I do crave a bit more control. I can’t lie about it. It’s a struggle to keep that side of me under wraps. But you’re worth the trouble.”
He was getting better at compromising. They didn’t fight nearly as often as they once had, but she hadn’t realized it was because he was the one compromising the most, letting her get her way. She needed to meet him halfway. And if that entailed allowing him to choose what she had on her plate when he surprised her with a romantic dinner, she could handle that. Maybe with a little practice, she could let him have a bit more control of her life. But just a little. Their marriage would have to be a partnership. She would never tolerate living under a dictatorship. Of course, there was one place she never minded him being the boss.
“You know there are times when I like you to boss me around,” she said.
He met her eyes and lifted a skeptical brow at her. “When?”
“In the bedroom,” she said. “You know how hot that makes me, don’t you?”
“I thought you obeyed in the bedroom because you know I never disappoint.”
She laughed, choosing to take her husband’s ego with a grain of salt. Besides, she couldn’t argue with his boasting when it happened to be true.
“I guess that’s part of it,” she said. “But when you fuck me and make me say things—things I would never say anywhere else—it’s exhilarating. Freeing.”
“What kinds of things?” he asked.
“This pussy is mine,” she said gruffly. “Say it. Say it, Jess.”
He shifted in his seat. “Well, it is mine.”
“Actually,” she said, “it’s mine.”
He tilted his head slightly as he assessed her. “I never realized how much it must cost you to give me that much power over you.”
“You know if I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t let you.” She nibbled her lower lip as she put her thoughts to words. “So dominate me in the bedroom, but let me decide on my own dinner.”
“Is that why you aren’t eating?”
She nodded. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean to dominate your dinner, Jess. I just wanted to show you that I care about you.”
“I know, baby. I’ll try not to blow these things out of proportion.”
“If you don’t want to eat, you don’t have to. I thought you liked tortellini.”
He still wasn’t quite understanding the reason it bothered her, but she needed him to get her. She knew how things got between them when they weren’t perfectly clear. She reached across the table and plopped a spoonful of squash onto his plate. Sed didn’t like squash. He’d ordered it because she liked it.
His brow crinkled. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Would you like another roll??
?? she asked.
“Um, I guess.”
She placed another roll on his plate.
