“Nope. I serveyou. I like doing that, too.” He pointed to the blanket and motioned for me to sit down.
“Okay, if you want to cook for meandfeed me, I won’t argue.” I plopped down on the blanket and crossed my legs under me. “Did you leave any for your customers tonight?”
“Some.” Joe handed me a fork and knife. “I grabbed a few of the entree specials. I tried to pick closest to what you got the most excited about at the festival. I have shrimp, stuffed clams, and…” His eyes brightened before he handed me a foil covered container.
I peeled the top off and found mozzarella sticks and a tiny cup of marinara sauce. He’d thought of everything, even paying attention to what I liked as we strolled around the festival, despite me pushing him away both right before and right after. I already had trouble believing this guy was real. Any words I wanted to say in gratitude were stuck behind the lump in my throat.
“Joe, I—” I gulped in an attempt to will away the tears flooding my eyes. No man had ever made me cry tears of happiness before. I was touched, overwhelmed, and shocked that he’d gone to all this trouble for me with only a day’s notice. “I know it’s ridiculous to get this flustered over fish and mozzarella sticks, but no one has ever paid attention like this…” I set my plate on my lap as my nose burned. “I hoped just this one night, I wouldn’t make an idiot of myself in front of you. No such luck, I guess.” I cupped my forehead as if that would somehow push out a coherent sentence, but I was too choked up to be articulate.
As much as I attempted to write off what Joe and I had as lust and chemistry, what he’d done for me tonight transcended that. I still had a lot to learn about Joe, but he’d showed me the most important parts, and I was already hooked.
He looped an arm around my waist, yanking me into his side. “You’re doing fine. And for the record, you’ve never made an idiot of yourself in front of me. You’re brave and beautiful. And, since the second I met you, I couldn’t get enough. I’m glad we’re not fighting it anymore.” He leaned forward and brushed my lips. They parted on a soft sigh when he grazed my bottom lip with his tongue. This man couldkiss. It had taken me over twenty years to have a cinematic-worthy, toe-curling kiss.
It was as if my teenage years had been reset, and I was in one of those coming-of-age tales of self-discovery. Only I was closer to middle age, and the first kiss came at the beginning of the story, quickly followed by very dirty sex with the promise of more.
I sifted my fingers into his hair and laid back, pulling him down with me. Joe broke the kiss and shook his head.
“Dinner first, and dessert,thenwe see about extra dessert.” He sat up and kissed the tip of my nose.
“You even brought dessert?” My mouth fell open. Joe was turning out to be my every fantasy come true. If there was chocolate cake in one of those baskets, my clothes would fly off of their own accord.
“If you’re a good girl.” His scorching smile and the husky way “good girl” rolled off his tongue made my silly heart trip over itself. “Now, eat.”
“Can I ask you something?” I leaned back on my elbows, already stuffed after only two plates.
“Sure.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “Ask away.”
“We spoke about my less-than-stellar relationship history, but you said you didn’t see women that much. Were you ever serious with anyone?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call anything serious. Like I told you, I tried to not start anything with someone out of town, and the women I dated around here got fed up pretty fast. The long hours I work and constant changing of plans had anyone I attempted to date pretty short on patience. And they were right. I never made time for anything other than the restaurant. I was always either brainstorming a new menu or obsessing over the financials. I honestly never wanted to make time for anything or anyone else. Until now.”
My cheeks heated, matching the warmth flooding my chest. “It doesn’t feel like we just met at all, does it?”
He laughed before slowly shaking his head. “No. No, it does not.”
“I even missed you a little.”
His jaw went slack before he pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “You did?”
I held up my hand and pinched the air between my index finger and thumb. “A little.”
“Only a little, huh?” He moved closer, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.
“Maybe slightly more than a little.”
“You’re only saying that because I fed you again.” He dropped his hand on my knee, causing a swarm of goose bumps up my thigh.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, almost afraid to meet his gaze. Joe’s smile was a lethal weapon, charming and paralyzing me at once.
“This was really incredible. Thank you for tonight.”
“Hey, it’s not over yet.”
“Was I a good girl? Do I get dessert?”
“Yes, I think you were.” Joe reached for a white paper bag. “And they stayed warm.” He unfolded the top of the bag and handed it to me.
“You found zeppoles?”My eyes bulged before I dove into the bag and grabbed one. The powdered sugar melted into a glaze on my fingertips.
