“Tony, this looks amazing.”
“Good. Eat.”
She takes a bite. Then another. Then closes her eyes, letting out a sound so soft and surprised it shoots right through me to my damn cock. Watching her eat and enjoy every mouthful is a turn on.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “This is incredible.”
Heat prickles low in my stomach. I turn away, grabbing my own plate to hide the reaction.
We eat in comfortable silence for a minute, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire and the quiet clink of silverware.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” she adds eventually.
“Didn’t do it because I had to.”
She pauses, fork suspended halfway to her mouth. “Then why? You don’t know me and you don’t owe me a meal.”
I meet her gaze. Steady. Direct.
“Well, the way I see it, I gotta eat, you gotta eat. We can eat together. You deserve a warm meal. And because I wanted to share my time with someone.”
She looks down immediately, cheeks coloring.
She doesn’t speak again until half her plate was gone. “Tony?”
“Yeah.”
“About last night…”
I wait not sure where she’s going with this.
She swallows. “You kissed me.”
“You needed an out,” I answer evenly. “That guy was unstable. You were uncomfortable. I created a distraction.”
She studies me trying to read me. Hate to tell her that’s impossible. “That wasn’t a distraction kiss.”
No. It sure as hell wasn’t.
I scoop another bite of potatoes onto my fork. “You complaining?”
“No!” Her eyes widen. “No, I just— I mean you didn’t have to do that.”
“It was fun. Don’t read so much into shit, baby. Be in the moment because the next second isn’t promised.”
Her face flushes deeper, a rosy pink spreading across her cheeks. She bites her lip and looks down at her food.
Silence stretches between us again, but it isn’t awkward. It is charged. Warm. Familiar in a way that shouldn’t be possible yet somehow is.
After we finish, I stand, collecting our empty plates.
She rises too. “Let me help.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I want to.”
Her tone isn’t pushy—it is gentle. Needing to participate, not just receive.
