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The full dish is delivered right in front of me – grill-lines and crispy oil intact.
“Looks delicious. Thank you.” My face hurts from smiling.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” He pulls in his chair and hunches over his meal.
“Uh huh.” I know he’s trying to hide from looking at me. If he did, he just might crack, and we just might have a good time. So I’ll keep bothering him. “Is this like… a date?”
“An apology,” he growls.
“Oh?”
“Shouldn’t have sent the man to the crows while you were there.” He picks apart the salmon and takes a huge bite.
I take a less barbaric piece and give it a try. “Mmm, Leandro. This is amazing! Speaking as one half of your personal cook team, I couldn’t have done a better job myself.”
He’s holding back a grin now, probably not from the compliment, but because I’m indirectly telling him I forgive him by not talking about the hit.
“Yeah, well, sorry it couldn’t be indoors. We’d probably get sick from mold poisoning.”
“That’s okay.” I take another mouthful. “Hey, that brings up a key question the girls have been wondering about. And by girls, I mean me. Where the hell do you sleep?”
He thumbs in the direction of the woods.
“Seriously?”
“Mhm.”
“At least tell me you bring a sleeping bag or something,” I prod.
“Nope. Just my bare ass.” He gives it a minute before looking up at me, and finally cracks a smile. “I’m not insane, woman. I have a few tents set up just down the way. It’s peaceful in the winter.”
I giggle. “You scared me there for a minute. What about summer? You must hear some bear rumblings up this way.”
“Just black bears. They’re more scared of me than anything.” He shrugs it off.
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see you two square off.”
“That’d be a sight, huh?” He sniffs.
Twenty seconds of pleasant silence passes. We’re both enjoying the meal, even if I can see my own breath. I’m getting used to the cold a bit. Seeing him sleeveless makes me feel silly to complain with a sweater and a jacket on.
“Tell me something, wolf.”
“Cut it with that,” he growls.
“I’m not calling you Hook. This isn’t Peter Pan.”
“My name will do just fine.”
“Alright. Tell me something, Leandro. You didn’t say anything to the girls about… you know.”
“Trust me, Sia. My mouth isn’t the one that’s flapping.” He raises his eyebrows, judging me harshly.
“What? Don’t look at me like that. I had to give them something.”
He scoffs loudly. “So you choose to blab about murder over sex. Remind me not to put you in front of the stand.”
We both laugh at that.
