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The corner of his mouth crooks up as he leans an elbow on the table. “You brought all those people to the restaurant last night. We want to show our appreciation and do something nice for you.”
I open my mouth to speak, but his blue eyes are too damn distracting to keep my shit together. So, I take a sip of my wine and sit back in my seat like I’m a cool girl and do stuff like this all the time.
I can finally formulate a thought when his knee brushes mine under the table.
Ohmygod. Was that intentional?
No. No way.
He’s got long legs just like I do. People like us bump into stuff all the time.
Then it happens again. I decide to handle it the way I do everything else.
By putting my foot in my mouth.
“Weston,” I say slowly so I can keep it together, “did you just brush my knee on purpose? Or are you just super clumsy?”
Of course, he has the perfect comeback. “Well, it depends, Livvy. It depends on whether you liked it or not. If you did, then yes, it was on purpose. If you didn’t, I’ll swear it was an accident and never do it again.”
Damn him. Men like him always know what to say.
I scoop the last sliver of beet off my plate and savor it, letting the earthy taste dissolve on my tongue. As long as there’s food in my mouth, he can’t possibly expect me to answer.
Right?
I swallow and reach for a sip of water because I don’t know what else to do.
And yet, he never breaks our gaze.
“It’s fine,” I say in a choked voice. “You’re not bothering me.”
He slaps his hand on the table. “Okay, then. I haven’t pissed you off. At least not yet.”
Um, piss me off? Like that’s even possible.
While I’m trying my best to come up with something equally witty, which is a stupid waste of time, Enzo returns. I have no idea what he’s bringing my way, and not even after he sets it down in front of me.
“Hey, Wes,” he says, clapping his buddy on the back.
Weston gets to his feet and pushes his chair in. Disappointment washes over me, but I remind myself to get it together.
He’s not my freaking date. He’s just being cordial.
“Would you look at that,” he says as Enzo sets the plate before me.
I don’t know what this is, but it smells like pure heaven.
“This, Livvy, is a roasted cauliflower steak with Romanesco sauce and almonds.”
Cauliflower steak?
“Wow,” I say, reaching for my fork and knife even though both guys are still standing there.
I should probably wait for them to depart, but nothing’s stopping me from trying this beautiful creation.
I pop a bite into my mouth and moan even though I don’t mean to. My eyes fall closed as my tastebuds explode with happiness.
“I think she likes it, Wes.”
