“If you do, then so do I.” She twisted her napkin to keep her hands busy. “I told you how often I eat at the farm’s restaurant. To make it worse, on the days I don’t, I usually stop by my parents’ house and eat whatever mom cooked.”
“That’s different. It’s all on the same property.”
She laid the napkin on her plate. “For the record, I can cook. I make a cashew chicken that’s better than takeout.”
“One of my favorites.”
“I’ll make it for you one night, but I use the slow cooker, so I need advanced notice.”
“You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t hinting at an invitation.”
“I know, but the offer stands.” Strangely, she didn’t stop to consider he might not want to spend more time with her. The ease and comfort she experienced with him were too strong to be one-sided.
“I’ll remember that.” He grinned and removed his wallet from his pocket, slid out a card and placed it in the check holder. “And take you up on it soon.”
Her hands itched to remove several bills from her wallet and hand them over, but she already knew from their last dinner, Wes wouldn’t let her pay, not even the tip. Some women would be annoyed by his insistence, and though she’d gladly pay her own share, she had to admit that she liked him paying for her.
Maybe because her parents illustrated a prime example of a relationship where the man took care of the woman while always treating her with the utmost of respect, but Paige had never felt the need to prove her independence to the world.
She knew who she was, what she was capable of, and if a man wanted to treat her to a meal, then she’d accept the gesture with gratitude. She didn’t understand the offense some women took, and it made her think she’d been born in the wrong decade. Even Missy, whose ideas of gender equality differed from hers, appreciated shows of chivalry.
After their bill was paid, Paige gave Wes a smile. “Thank you for dinner. I enjoyed it.”
He returned the smile with a heart-skipping one of his own and slipped the card back into his wallet. “My pleasure.”
