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“I told you two hours,” he replies smoothly and leads us to the door of the suite.
He opens it, and there are two trays of food on a serving cart outside. With a little maneuvering, we roll it inside and make room for the plates on the corner of the table I’d been using as my desk.
“I told you before, I’m not hungry,” I mutter.
“Well, since I am hungry and I need you to sit here while I eat, you might as well eat too.”
I keep grumbling as he lifts the lid on his food. His plate is a bloody steak and baked potato. Then I notice the plate of mac and cheese. It’s my favorite meal next to my mother’s chicken soup.Did he order that because he noticed I was fond of it, or was it just a lucky guess?
He pops open a beer for himself and hands me a pop. I noticed the label says caffeine-free. I give him a dirty look. “Why even bother?”
He laughs. “Hey, it could have been water.”
I shudder, and he laughs again.
I start eating, but it doesn’t go well. Jeb handcuffed my right hand, which is my dominant hand. I keep scooping the mac and cheese onto my fork, only for it to drop back into the plate before I can get it to my mouth. I growl in frustration. Though I didn’t think I was hungry, the smell of the mac and cheese has my stomach suddenly demanding I feed it.
I look over at Jeb, who has managed to cut his steak one-handed and deftly feed himself with no problem.
“A smart thief teaches themselves to be ambidextrous,” Jeb says, while neatly taking another bite of his dinner.
Feeling challenged by Jeb’s mastery, I pick up my fork with my left hand and try again. This time, the food falls on my lap.
“Here, have a bite,” Jeb’s deep voice orders as he places a forkful of mac and cheese in my mouth. I look at him, and his eyes are on my mouth, almost as if he’s as hungry for me to take a bite as I am.
I awkwardly accept the bite, conscious of the intimacy of sharing his utensil. He watches me as I chew and swallow, then brings another bite of food to my mouth. This time, it’s a bite of his steak. Once again, I accept the food, but this time, as I swallow he lets out a groan. A shiver runs through my body at the sound. “I think it’s better watching you enjoy eating my food than it is enjoying it myself.”
I don’t know what to say, so I take another bite from his fork to keep from having to answer.
We go on sharing each other’s food until, to my amazement, both plates are clean. “I knew I should have ordered the cheesecake,” Jeb says.
“Nah. They all taste like cardboard unless you get them from New York.”
“Is that why you want to go back there?” Jeb asks casually, but the intensity of his blue eyes reminds me of the look on his face when I’ve watched him pick a safe. “For the cheesecake?”
I shove my plate away. And pull back from the table, causing Jeb to have to move with me.I don’t ever talk about New York. Not ever.I told the crew I was returning there, but that’s it. It’s too personal. I just can’t talk about it—especially to Jeb.
“Okay then.” Jeb throws his napkin on his dinner plate. “Guess dinner is over.” He lets out a big yawn and smiles at me. “I guess that means it’s time for bed.”
Chapter6
Eli
Tennessee
I am so incredibly stupid. Up until the minute Jeb announced it was time for bed, I hadn’t given appropriate thought to what sleeping while handcuffed to Jeb would mean.
I frantically drag him to all three bedrooms in the suite, searching in vain for two beds placed next to each other so that our conjoined arms could dangle in the space between.
All three rooms contain queen-sized beds.
“I have a book I want to finish,” I say desperately. “I’ll move the chair next to the bed so you can sleep while I read.”
“Where’s the book?” Jeb asks pointedly, looking at my empty hands.
Member of Junior Mensa. Double Master’s degree in Physics and Applied Mathematics. Finished with everything but defending my thesis to receive my PhD in Theoretical Mathematics at fifteen, I still could not gather the mental acuity required to come up with the easy lie of telling Jeb the book I wanted to read was on the Kindle app on my phone.
“Nice try, Pinocchio,” he says, shaking his head at me while he turns down the covers. “Do you need to pee or anything before we hit the sack?”
