“Why do you say that?”
“I despise the night.” Her chest rose, her eyes closing for a few seconds. “Just like you despise the day.”
I wanted to wrap her in my fucking arms and keep her from ever seeing a single second of darkness. But when her eyelids flicked back open, I handed her the fork and whispered, “Taste your masterpiece, Alivia.”
She dipped the tines into the corner of the fish, then speared a piece of each vegetable, and took the bite, covering her mouth while she chewed. “I can’t believe I made this.”
I remembered what it had been like to serve my first meal. The gratification I’d felt while I watched them eat. The way I, unbeknownst to them, had relished in their compliments. How I couldn’t wipe the goddamn smile off my face. That feeling, that knowledge that I was doing exactly what I was meant to do.
And I was feeling it again.
Right now.
“It tastes amazing, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, going in a second time, scoring an even bigger piece. “Are you going to try some?”
I was trying it. I was taking it all in, my gaze only on her, and I was savoring the feelings.
“I want you to have it.”
“Oh, I’m going to eat the hell out of it”—she giggled—“but you have to at least try this. Because this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t accidentally stayed late.” She swallowed. “You know, I’ve created other paintings before—more like color by number—at the assisted living facility, but this is technicallymy first art show.” When I didn’t move, she said, “Please, Walker. It would be an honor for you to try my food.” She handed me her fork since I’d only brought one.
I took a generous portion and was even more impressed than I’d anticipated. “Alivia … damn.” I let the flavors continue to meld on my tongue before I chewed. The sauce was savory forward, and the citrus came in from behind. The fish had been cooked to just the right temperature, and the vegetables had the perfect blend of crunch and softness. “You fucking nailed it. This is an exceptional dish.”
“Wenailed it.” She smiled.
“No, I will not allow you to give me any credit here. I helped, but this is all on you.”
When I gave her back the fork, she poked my side with her finger. “I cannot believe I just got a compliment from you.”
I chuckled. “Why?”
“I’ve been here for over three weeks, and this is the first nice thing you’ve said to me.”
“No.” I gripped the back of my neck.
“It is!” Her eyes widened as she nodded. “You’ve been a complete dick to me, up until about fifteen minutes ago.”
“A dick?”
“And not even a nice dick, like the one down there.” She pointed below my waist. “Sorry, that was wildly inappropriate. I should not have said that. But I had to, it’s true. You’ve been the worst kind of dick to me.”
I let out a loud laugh; I couldn’t help it. My skin was even getting slick with heat from this one talking about my cock.
“It’s good to hear you laugh, Walker. I never hear you laugh while you’re at work.”
As I quieted, I replied, “Nothing here makes me happy.” While I stared at her, I couldn’t let that lie live in the air between us. I couldn’t let it process in her head. It wasn’t fair toher. “That’s not true. You make me extremely happy, Alivia. And what we just did together … shit, I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed being in the kitchen like that.” I rubbed my lips together. “But as for being a dick, that’s who I am.”
She shook her head, her hand going to my arm. “No, it’s not. That’s not the side of you I saw in the hotel.”
“What you saw in the hotel …” I let out some air, and her fingers dropped. “I don’t know if that side of me exists anymore. I don’t know where that person is.”
“He’s right here.” Her voice was so quiet. “With me.”
“Bullshit.”
“He is.” She set her fork down and turned her body toward me. “Do you know how gentle you were with me tonight? How patient? Sensitive? Inspiring? You never raised your voice. You never barked at me for making a wrong decision. You never rushed me or made me feel inadequate. You taught me.” She clasped her hands together. “You mentored me.” She tilted her face, giving me an even bigger smile. “You made me want more.”
