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I snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Something tells me you’re not into anything really fancy. You probably look for the holes-in-the-wall with the simplest, best food when you go someplace new, right?”
I nodded; he was right. “Something tells you correctly.”
He flashed me a small grin. “We’d start with a shrimp cocktail. It’d be the best shrimp cocktail of your life, of course.”
“Of course,” I drawled.
“A light potato soup would follow it, and a simple arugula salad would be third. Then I’d bring out the big guns: a gorgeous ribeye that smells good enough to make you cry, and some killer fries. Nothing you’d find at my restaurant, but damn, you’d be in love.”
I bit back a grin, and nodded. “Right. Love.”
“Mmhm. Dessert would be last. I take you as a cobbler girl.” He studied me. “Peach, or cherry?”
“Peach, any day.” Surprisingly enough, the way he talked about food had distracted me from the fiery need burning my damned body. “But usually I prefer chocolate over fruity things, assuming I can consume either without getting sick. What would you want to eat, if you could have any meal?”
His eyes glittered. “You.”
He turned back to the road as my eyebrows shot upward.
Damn, he’d just gone for it.
Maybe he was attracted to me after all.
My body throbbed some more.
I’d never been impressed when guys had gone down on me before, but something told me it would be different if Zed did.
Really different.
Not that I was going to let him try it; we weren’t going to have sex.
Were we?
Shit, it would be a long, long month if we didn’t.
