Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“No.”
He waits for me to expound, but I don’t.
“What about you?” I ask instead. “Are you from Nashville?”
“Yes. I grew up there. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. All my siblings, except my sister, live close to me.”
My heart pulls in my chest from the look in his eye. “Family is important to you?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s everything.”
He doesn’t blink or laugh or crack a smile. Somehow, that might be the sexiest thing about him so far.
“Do you have a lot of siblings?” I ask.
“One sister and four brothers.”
“What number are you in the lineup?”
“I’m the baby.” He laughs again. “It’s all my brothers, then my sister, and then me.”
Oh my God. He’s the baby of his family. How old is this guy?
I take a sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol works quicker than my panic.
Tate leans forward, watching me curiously as I set my glass down.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and calm.
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because you had this flash bolt through your eyes just before you took a drink.”
I nibble my bottom lip, and my cheeks burn.
“I’m fine.” I smile. “This is just the first meal I’ve shared with someone in a long time. I just feel a little clumsy.”
Tate’s eyes are trained on mine. “I assure you, Ms. Kapowski. You are in very good hands tonight.”
Our gazes lock across the table, and a shiver snakes down my spine. He’s a few feet away, too far to touch me. Still, I imagine him between my legs, against my lips, his hands in my hair.
He holds himself with the cool, easy confidence of someone who knows what he has to offer. He speaks with intention. He moves with deliberation. This man understands what he wants and knows how to get it.
“This could be what you were after all along.”
My breath is shaky as I exhale.
I have a feeling that he’s right—I am in good hands tonight. Because if I read the room correctly, I’m what he wants … and it won’t take much to get it.
Chapter Six
Aurora
“Enjoy,” Sean says before departing from our table.
Our appetizers sit beautifully before us. Each dish is more elegant than the previous one, starting with colorful charcuterie and ending with a spectacular elevated oyster display. It’s fancier than anything I’ve eaten, and my stomach tenses in fear that I won’t like it, and it’ll go to waste.
“What do you think?” Tate asks, watching me. “Do you think I ordered enough?”
I grin, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Maybe you could’ve ordered two more appetizers, and we could’ve fed a small country.”
He laughs. The sound envelops me with its smooth warmth.
“No, seriously, this is beautiful,” I say, surveying the spread again. “But it is a lot of food. We could’ve gotten away with just one of these.”
“What kind of date would that have been?”
I fight a grin at his choice of words. “This isn’t a date.”
“It isn’t?” He bites his lip to keep from smiling. “What is it, then?”
“Two random people who met on a plane and happened to run into each other again.”
“Is that what you’re telling yourself?”
I nod, holding his gaze. “I am.”
“We’ll see.” He pulls his attention to the plates before us. “This does look good.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Always start with oysters.” He lifts one from the bed of salt. “You’ve never had one before?”
“No.”
He smiles as if this makes him happy. “Let me introduce you to the world of oysters. You usually eat them with a little lemon or mignonette sauce, but oysters Rockefeller already have a topping on them. You can add a little lemon, but I usually don’t.”
“What’s in the topping?” I ask, peering at the shell in his hand.
“Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”
I giggle as he picks up a spoon.
“You can either scoop out the meat and sauce and eat it with a spoon or slip it straight into your mouth.” He slides a spoon along the shell. “But either way, you have to loosen the oyster first.”
I nod, watching him guide me through the process.
He’s deliberate, not rushed or shaky. It’s as if he has all the time in the world to sit with me and teach me about shellfish.
His hands are huge compared to the tiny utensil, and his adeptness at handling the oyster makes me wonder what other things he can manipulate as effortlessly. My thoughts instantly switch to his fingers grabbing my thighs and pulling them apart, his face nestled between them, and his tongue licking me instead of his lips.
Who knew watching this could be foreplay?
“Now you eat it,” he says, holding my gaze.
A quick breath flows between my lips as my heart pounds, and his eyes darken.
He brings the shell to his lips and tips it up, sliding the meat into his mouth. His eyes never leave mine. He chews slowly, watching my reaction, before swallowing.