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“Yes, and can you add on an order of fried chicken strips?” he asked.
Crap.
He was ordering more than one meal. I guess it was foolish of me to think that a guy as fit as he was who’d been out snowboarding all day long wouldn’t need the extra calories to fuel his physique.
“Of course. Anything to drink?”
“I’ll take a Coke.”
The girl pushed a couple of buttons on the register and said, “That’ll be sixty-three sixty.”
I gave her a nod, reached down into my purse, and fished out my wallet. By the time I had it out and opened it, I heard her voice again. “Thirty-six dollars and forty cents is your change. If you want to slide down to the opposite end, your food will come out there.”
“Thank you,” Griffin replied, taking his change from her and slipping it into his pocket.
Lifting my gaze to him, I asked, “What did you just do?”
He jerked his chin up, placed a hand at the small of my back, which sent shivers up my spine, and said, “We have to move to the side so I can get out of the way here.”
My feet became unstuck, and I started walking to the opposite end of the counter. When we came to a stop there and waited for our food, I looked at Griffin expectantly.
“What?” he asked.
“I told you I was going to buy dinner for you,” I reminded him.
“I know, but I didn’t agree to that.”
“Yes, you did. Don’t you remember I said I wanted to show you my appreciation for you helping me and shoveling the snow around my car?” I questioned him.
“Of course, I do.”
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to offer a better explanation.
Griffin understood the meaning behind my look and finally shared, “I agreed to having dinner with you, which honestly, is all the thanks I need. I am who I am, Indy, and I’m going to be the one who buys dinner.”
“But—”
“It’s done, sugar. Just let it go,” he urged me, his tone an odd mixture of sweet and firm.
There it was again. That word. Sugar. Why did I have to like the way it sounded so much?
Since I really wasn’t in a position to be arguing to pay for a dinner that was as expensive as this one was, I caved. “Thank you for buying.”
He grinned at me. “You’re welcome.”
We waited in silence for the next few minutes, until finally, our food was ready. Picking it up, we carried it back to the table beside where I’d been spending nearly all of my time for the last couple of days.
The second we were both seated, Griffin held the basket containing the fried chicken strips out to me.
“What?” I asked.
He pulled one out, sunk his teeth into it, and chewed. After he swallowed, he replied, “No dinner at the ski lodge is complete without an order of fried chicken strips. You have to split these with me.”
“I—”
“Just take one, Indy,” he urged.
“Deciding it was best not to argue when someone was offering me extra food, I took a piece of chicken from the basket and bit into it. I couldn’t miss the way Griffin’s lips twitched with amusement as I did.
