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CHAPTER 6
Kylie
“Oh. My. God,” I crooned right after I closed my eyes and swallowed. “I think I’m having a foodgasm. This is one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten.”
Dylan actually chuckled a little from across the table in the swanky restaurant. “Feel free to continue. Watching you would be highly…entertaining.”
I opened my eyes and smiled at him as I said, “Thank you for this. I’m a Southern California native, but I’ve never eaten here. Everything has been amazing.”
Dylan had offered to take me out to dinner several times over the last week, so I didn’t feel like I always needed to cook, but I’d brushed him off until this evening.
I’d been feeling drained after spending the entire day trying to put out a couple of fires at ACM, and dinner out had sounded like a great idea.
I just hadn’t planned on ending up at one of the most iconic Michelin-star restaurants in the Los Angeles area.
I’d balked because it was a little rich for my blood, not to mention the fact that this restaurant was always booked and hard to eat at on short notice.
Dylan had overridden my arguments, telling me he ate here occasionally and would have no problem getting a reservation. He’d also jokingly said he thought he could handle the bill.
After reminding myself that he was one of the richest guys in the world, it hadn’t been hard to convince me to eat here.
I’d always wanted to but had never had the opportunity or the spare cash when I’d lived in Los Angeles. Now that I probably could afford the occasional expensive dinner splurge, I hadn’t really thought about it since there were plenty of good restaurants in Newport Beach.
Dylan shrugged. “You cook all the time. It’s not as though I’m doing you a big favor.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. This is a big deal to me, Dylan. I’m a regular person who doesn’t get to do something like this very often.”
Luckily, I’d had the handy little black dress that I’d been able to accessorize with some cute costume jewelry.
My heart had skipped a beat when Dylan had strolled down the stairs, looking good enough to eat in a pair of what looked like custom slacks and a light-blue polo shirt that fit his massive body perfectly.
Of course, I’d quickly reminded myself that we weren’t going on…a date.
It was just two friends having a meal together.
“You did look like you were enjoying your Spanish octopus,” Dylan teased. “I’m actually impressed by how much food you can manage to put into such a small body.”
I flushed a little. I had eaten a lot, and I wasn’t even close to finished with my rich cream, pastry, and strawberry dessert that was sitting in front of me. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been a dainty eater. I’m a foodie.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he demanded gruffly. “It’s refreshing to see a woman who isn’t afraid to eat. I’ll have them bring you everything on the menu if you want it. I like it, and I definitely love the way you enjoy your food.”
I lifted a brow. “Then prepare to be refreshed while I demolish the rest of this dessert.”
I was relieved that he didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by my hearty appetite. My deceased husband used to be horrified that I could actually outeat most men.
“I’m ready to be delighted with your food orgasm,” he joked. “It would be the most action I’ve seen in a long time.”
I snorted before I took another bite, savored it, and then swallowed. “Please. Says the man who indulges in wild orgies.”
I didn’t really have to guard my words since the enclosed patio was empty, something Dylan had probably arranged when he’d made the reservations, so we’d have some privacy.
I almost regretted giving him a hard time when his eyes darkened as he said grimly, “I told you that was a setup. I was drugged, Kylie, and I’m certain I never shagged any of those women. I suspect they were actually after Damian, so they could tarnish his image with a company that prides itself on being squeaky clean. There were a lot of competitors who desperately wanted the deal he eventually made, despite that debacle. They got me instead of Damian because I was idiotic enough to let it happen.”
“Maybe so,” I mused before I took a sip of my French press coffee. “But please don’t try to tell me you’ve had a long dry spell. It hasn’t been long since the incident with Nicole.”
I actually did believe him regarding the orgy situation, but he was no angel.
His laser-sharp gaze locked onto mine, and my heart somersaulted inside my chest. His eyes were dark and earnest as he asked, “Do you really want the truth?”
