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“So you're not a vegetarian?” I ask.
“No.”
“Interesting.”
“Why’s that?”
“You eat chicken but not pork,” I reply, and her head whips around to face me.
“How'd you know that?”
“You're more transparent than you realize.” I smirk. “And definitely not as sly as you think.”
Fallon frowns, biting the inside of her cheek when she realizes.
“Pork is poisonous to dogs,” I tell her. “You could've killed him. Good thing I had meds to give him so he'd puke it up.”
“What?” The color drains from her face as I move around the kitchen, holding back the urge to laugh. Fuck, she's cute when she's gullible.
She looks around for Dasher as if she's truly worried, and guilt floods me for making her panic.
“Fallon.” My deep timbre grabs her attention. “I'm kidding.”
“Goddamn you!” She stands and stomps over, throwing her fist against my shoulder. “That wasmean.”
I snicker at her attempt to hurt me. “I'm sorry. You make it too easy to rile you up.”
She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, pouting as she narrows her eyes in anger.
“I think you like him more than you want to admit,” I taunt.
“No,” she quickly responds. “I don't want a dog's death on my hands. That can't be good karma.”
“Why didn't you just tell me you don't eat pork? You don't have to sneak around, Fallon. You aren't going to hurt my feelings because of something I made. My ego isn't that fragile.”
“I didn't want to seem ungrateful,” she says timidly. “Plus, it's not like you asked if I even wanted an omelet, so I just accepted what you made.”
“Fair enough. But from now on, just say something, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Chicken fettuccini, do you like that?”
“I try to avoid pasta, but considering the circumstances, I'll eat some while I'm here.”
“What in the world do you even eat in Seattle? Tofu?”
“For your information, I have a gluten allergy, which is why I limit my pasta intake. It’s not because I deprive myself of carbs. You've seen my thighs. Do you really think I'm a health nut? I just have to watch out for gluten, or I'll feel uncomfortable and bloated.”
At the mention of her luscious legs, I imagine kneeling between them and licking her pussy until she explodes all over my tongue. Her body confidence is as sexy as her curvy hips.
Quickly shaking away the thoughts of her sitting on my face, I nod. “You don't have to eat it if you don't want to.”
“I’ll have a little. It actually sounds pretty good,” she replies, no longer shooting daggers at me.
“Okay, it'll be ready in a half hour. Think you can make it until then?” I smirk when her stomach growls.
“I hope so.”
