Page 30 of Trick or Tease

“Well, most people don’t know what good ribs are supposed to taste like,” he shot back.

I gave him a look that could’ve peeled paint off a barn. I knew because I’d been told exactly that more than once. “Sorry things aren’t up to your standards, Your Highness. I’ll tell them you like yours rare. Or maybe you’d prefer them burnt and dry, huh?”

“I could have classed up the whole affair,” he said.

I couldn’t tell if he was intentionally trying to piss me off or if he was really that big of a dick.

Unfortunately, I was leaning toward the latter.

“It’s not an affair. It’s a party. No one is schmoozing. No one is trying to impress anyone. No one gives a shit who’s wearing what or driving what car.” I knew I was probably snarling, but he had pissed me off. “Have you forgotten what fun is?”

“It’s not like the parties I go to.”

“Well, I’m glad I don’t get invited to those.”

“Your loss.”

“So you can’t have fun without top shelf booze and scallops?”

“It sure helps.”

“Sounds like a sad life.” I stared at Garrett, unable to believe what I was hearing. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m just saying, they’re not as good as the ribs I had at this little place in Brooklyn last month. Perfectly smoked, just the right amount of char, and served with this incredible house-made barbecue sauce. You wouldn’t understand.”

I clenched my jaw. “Oh, I wouldn’t understand? Because I’m just a small-town girl who doesn’t know anything about fine dining, right?”

“That’s not what I said,” he replied, though his tone suggested it was exactly what he meant. “But let’s be real, Sabrina. The food here is fine. It’s good for what it is. But it’s not exactly gourmet.”

I shoved another bite of ribs into my mouth, letting the smoky flavor burst on my tongue. “You know what? These ribs are amazing. They’re tender, they’re flavorful, and they’re made with love. Not everything needs to be fancy to be good.”

Garrett smirked. “Love doesn’t make up for lack of skill. The restaurant I took you to in the city—that was a small sample of what my life is like. And it’s awesome. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, I get it. You think your life is so much better because you’ve got your fancy suits, your high-rise apartment, and your overpriced dinners. But you know what? I didn’t really care for that restaurant. It was fine, sure, but I’d take these ribs any day over it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. “You’re just saying that because you’re defensive. You can’t admit that the city has something better to offer.”

“I’m defensive because of your shitty attitude,” I snapped. “I’m just tired of you acting like your life is the pinnacle of happiness. Newsflash, Garrett—not everyone wants what you have. Some of us are perfectly happy with a simpler life.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “Simpler? You make it sound like I’m living some kind of complicated, stressful existence. My life is great. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and I’m proud of it.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be proud,” I countered, my voice a little softer. “But you act like the rest of us are somehow less because we didn’t chase the same dreams you did. Like we’re settling for something inferior.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just… I guess I don’t understand why anyone would want to stay here when there’s so much more out there.”

“Ever heard of less is more?”

He waved my question away. “Fine, what would your last meal be, if you could choose anything?”

I looked at him with horror. “Kind of a morbid question, isn’t it?”

“I’d go for a Kobe ribeye with a lobster tail.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Keep your ocean cockroaches away from my last meal.”

He looked properly offended, like he couldn’t imagine why I would not want lobster for my last meal.

“What would you ask for?”