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“I’m impressed,” he says.
I lick my lips. “More, please.”
“You’ll have to wait. On to the next dish.”
“Okay, fine,” I pout, even though I know the next dish won’t disappoint. If this is culinary flirting, I’m totally game for it.
Lucas slips the next bite between my lips. It’s a tender vegetable, crisp on the outside, like it’s been grilled, but brushed with olive oil and sprinkled with fresh parmesan.
I throw my head back in delight. “That’s as good as the salmon.”
“I’m glad you like it.” The pleasure is evident in his voice. “What is it?”
“Grilled asparagus. Olive oil, rosemary, parmesan, and sea salt.”
“Not just sea salt,” he hints.
“Himalayan pink salt?” I ask.
“Right again. You have a good sense of taste,” he murmurs.
“Another superpower of mine. It goes along with the OCD. I like to classify all the flavors in a dish.”
“Interesting,” he murmurs. “Okay, final dish. One last bite of something so delicious, I promise it will be the best one yet.”
“After those two dishes, that’s a big promise.”
“I like to make big promises,” he says. “For you.”
The spoon slides into my mouth, and I roll the sweet, smooth flavors around—a rich dark chocolate with salty notes of caramel.
The liquid sugar melts in my mouth. “This is my favorite.” I lick my lips. “Is it a dark chocolate mousse with sea salt caramel?”
“And one more thing…”
“Perhaps a small amount of espresso? For depth.”
He laughs. “Right again. You passed with flying colors.”
“Do I get another bite?”
“Only if you say please.”
My resolve crumbles. “Please?”
As I wait for the chocolate, eyes still closed, something touches my lips, gentle and warm. That’s when I realize he’s not feeding me. His lips are on mine, drinking me in, like he’s the one doing the taste testing.
I jerk away from him. “What is happening?”
Lucas’s gaze drops. “I’m sorry. I thought after this afternoon…” His cheeks flame and I realize he’s talking about the accidental cuddle session.
“I…I thought you were sleeping,” I say, the embarrassment creeping up my neck.
“I was sleeping,” he promises. “Until I woke up and you were in my arms.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how it happened.”
“That makes two of us, then.” He cups my chin and looks into my eyes. “But don’t apologize. Because I’m not sorry.”
