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“Six.”
“Crap. I didn’t make a reservation.” She grimaced. “I got busy with job searches and then I must have fallen asleep. I’m sorry, Kaz, I totally forgot.”
Kaspar chuckled. “Camilla made one at Serratto for seven if you want to go there, or we can still stay in if you’d rather.”
She blinked up at him. “Would it be horrible to stay in?”
“I’d prefer it.”
“You would?”
He nodded. “It’s been a long day, sweetheart, and my brother arrives in the morning, delayed as usual, so it means we can spend a little extra time together tonight if we stay in.”
“Your brother’s coming? Megan’s... ah... boyfriend? What do I call him?”
Kaspar removed his watch, pulling his shirt from his trousers as he headed to the bedroom. “No, Ari’s not coming. Gunnar is. As far as Ari and his title as it pertains to your sister, I suppose they are mates. As you and I are.”
Jesska craned her neck to watch Kaspar as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. His chest was like granite and when he turned to grab a T-shirt, the muscles on his back rippled with the motion. He caught her eye and she gasped, sitting back down on the sofa, hoping he hadn’t seen her staring at him. He returned to the living room devoid of shoes, but in the same pants he wore that morning.
She smiled up at him and he leaned down, one hand on the armrest and one behind her head, his face within inches of hers. “Did you like what you saw?”
“Very much.” Jesska took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby. I like you watching me.”
She licked her lips. “I like it too.”
He grinned and leaned closer, kissing her before sitting beside her. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Right now, I could eat the entire left side of a cow.”
Kaspar raised an eyebrow. “Not the right?”
“Oh, I’ll take the right too, but I don’t want to be greedy.”
He laughed. “I’ll order two, then.”
“This is you taking care of me, huh?”
“Part of it, yes,” he said, and kissed her palm.
“Okay, brownie points for you. Cooking’s not my strong suit.”
He turned and reached behind him, grabbing his phone, texting who? Jesska could only guess. Setting his phone aside, he grabbed her hand again.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Camilla. She will order our food.”
“I could do that, you know. As could you.”
Kaspar cocked his head. “But it’s her job.”
“Does she ever get a day off?” she asked.
“Sundays. Except when we’re traveling.”
“Kaz,” she said in exasperation. “Are you seriously telling me she only gets one day off a week? And sometimes not even that?”
