“Wow!”
“Thanks for dinner,” I offered, moving back and giving her some room.
Grace brought her fingers to her swollen lips. “You’re welcome,” she murmured no doubt the thoughts in her head were on something other than the pan of steaming pasta.
“What can I do to help?” I offered.
As much as I wanted to lay her out and feast on her, that would have to wait. If Grace put time and effort into cooking for me, then I was going to eat it. Besides, I was actually starving for real food too.
“If you could organize drinks, I’ll grab the salad and we’re good to go. Is Zane joining us?” Grace asked as she started serving.
“Not tonight. He was going into town to get a few things and said he’d stop at Dusty Boots for a steak,” I confirmed.
“Oh.”
The smile slipped from Grace’s face, and I was tempted to call Zane and tell him to get his ass back here.
“It’s fine. There’ll be plenty left for him tomorrow then,” she corrected, pasting the cheer back on.
A few minutes later and we were sitting at the table, my plate full of creamy, cheesy pasta, homemade rolls, and fresh salad and I was considering dropping to my knee and begging this woman to marry me. If this was what I got to come home to each day, sign me up.
It was so domestic. A home-cooked meal. A simple conversation about our day. Everything felt so normal. Almost like it was meant to be.
“So, Georgia and Gabriella are doing okay, then?” I asked, hoping they were. I was getting used to having Grace around but if her sisters needed her, I’d have to learn to share. I wouldn’t like it, in fact, I’d probably turn into a miserable, moody bastard, but I’d have to deal.
“They’re fine. They’ve been doing it a while, so they’ve pretty much got it down pat,” Grace explained but she didn’t seem thrilled about it.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“You just told me about the B&B doing well and your sisters having it all under control, but you left something out,” I called her out.
“No, I didn’t,” Grace deflected.
“You did. Maybe it wasn’t something that happened or something they said, but there’s definitely something you’re not saying, Grace. What is it? Talk to me,” I encouraged, setting aside my fork and reaching for her hand.
“Honestly, it’s nothing. I’m just being silly.” Grace tried to wave away my concerns, but I wasn’t having it.
“Nope. You’re not being silly. If something’s eating you, then I want to know,” I told her.
“What if it’s you eating me?” Grace countered, and I knew exactly what she was trying to do. She was trying to change the subject by putting sex on the table. Normally that was a challenge I was more than willing to run with, but seeing how dull her eyes were, we had to deal with this first. Orgasms could wait.
“Grace,” my voice was low and full of warning.
“It’s nothing. We should finish our dinner before it gets cold,” Grace suggested, stabbing a piece of tomato with her fork.
“Grace, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” I pressed, reaching up and tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“It’s just … I’m just … Ugh! This is so frustrating,” Grace declared, throwing her hands up in the air and leaning back in her chair.
Now I was frustrated. How was I supposed to help her if she didn’t tell me what was wrong? Damn women! I grabbed the legs of her chair and dragged them across the floor until her thighs were between mine. Clamping her knees in place with mine, I took hold of both her hands and held them between us.
“Right, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on so we can enjoy dessert,” I demanded.
“I didn’t make dessert,” Grace whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
“Princess, you are dessert,” I reminded her, squeezing her hands.
