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Eli taps his head. “I got them in here.” He and Saul hug. “Thanks, man,” Eli tells him.
Saul kisses my cheek and I hug him, too. I wish he’d stay, he’s fun. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I tell him.
“And you,” he says. Then he lowers his voice. “This is the first time Eli’s introduced me to a woman.”
I blink, surprised.
“Don’t tell him I told you,” Saul says, with a throaty chuckle. Then he leaves and it’s just the two of us.
“I’ll have to get his address from you,” I tell Eli. “So I can send him a thank you gift.”
“I’m sure you’ll see him again,” Eli says, and a weird thrill rushes through me. He pulls out my chair and I sit down, then he walks around the table to sit opposite me.
Our first course is amazing. A mushroom, noodle, and chili broth that tastes so much better than it should. I finish before Eli and try to steal some of his, and he covers his bowl like an annoyed boy.
“That’s mine.”
I laugh because I like it when he gets riled. He’s usually so calm and unruffled.
Except for when I’m around. I file that thought away to think about later.
Our main is beef wellington – a huge fillet wrapped with a home made pastry that is so good it should be illegal. By the time we get to dessert, I’m way too full but Saul must have anticipated that and made us the lightest chocolate soufflé with passionfruit sauce you could imagine.
“I’m going to have to marry Saul,” I say, putting my hand on my too-full stomach. “There’s no way another man could make me this happy.”
Eli lifts a brow. “I beg to differ.”
“I’m serious,” I tease. “I’m pretty much pregnant with his beef wellington babies right now.”
Pushing his chair back, Eli stalks around the table and it feels like it’s game on. He reaches for me but I squeal and scramble out of my chair, running away from him.
But there’s not much running away to do in his tiny cabin. It doesn’t mean I don’t love it when he chases me – because I do. But I’m too full and too lazy to run out of his front door and into the cold.
Maybe tomorrow. Tonight I’m ready to be caught.
Eli wraps his arm around my distended waist, and then scoops me up.
“Ugh, I weigh a ton,” I tell him. “And I’m liable to vomit if you don’t put me down.”
“Okay.” He nods.
“I’m serious, Salinger. Put me down.”
So he does. And then he kisses me. Sweet little ones that make my toes curl. He wraps his hands around my neck and pulls me against him.
The man’s stomach is as flat as a pancake. This isn’t fair. Where did he put all that food he’s just eaten?
He kisses my jaw. “I’m still hungry,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down my back.
Something distracts me. Or someone. About a hundred of them, little Eli’s with his apparently big peter. I pull back from him, wrinkling my nose.
“I can’t,” I tell him. “Not in here. I feel like I’m being watched.”
He frowns. “By who?”
“You.Baby you. And your peter.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, woman. You could just close your eyes.”
