“Oh, I’m so sorry. We had no idea,” Elizabeth apologized quickly. “Eve didn’t say.”
“No worries,” Aspen assured her genially. “I mean, considering that Eve isn’t particularly fond of lamb, herself, it isn’t an issue we’ve ever needed to worry about, so I doubt it even crossed her mind to mention it.”
It was all Eve could do to not laugh at the sour look her mother shot her even as she pasted on her best hostess smile and said, “Well, I’m sure we have some chicken or something in the fridge, if that’d be okay?”
“That would be perfect,” Aspen replied with a beaming smile. And then, to Irma, she said, “I really am so sorry for the inconvenience. I can always grill it up, if it’d make things easier.”
Irma shook her head. “No, Miss. We can take care of it.” And then, to Eve, with a little twinkle in her eye, “Chicken for you, as well, Miss Eve?”
Eve could feel her parents glaring daggers in her direction, but, while that normally would have been enough for her to shut up and choke down the dinner they’d selected, she wasn’t about to refuse the gift Aspen had artfully dropped on her plate, as itwere. Feeling bolder than she’d ever felt in this house, she smiled warmly at Irma. “That would be wonderful, Irma. Thank you.”
“I’ll get Alfonso to grill some chicken for you both,” Irma promised as she set the last of the salad plates down. She folded her hands in front of herself and backed away from the table. When Eve’s father took his seat at the head of the table without saying anything else, she promptly disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Are there any other dietary restrictions we should know about?” Elizabeth asked as she took her seat to Killian’s right.
Aspen arched a brow at Eve as she pulled the chair furthest from Eve’s parents and inclined her head in a way that clearly said it was for her. When Eve just pursed her lips, Aspen answered, “None that I can think of. Eve and I have similar culinary tastes, so any meal that’s been prepared with her in mind should be fine.”
Eve folded her dress beneath her as she sat, painfully aware of her parents’ close inspection, and breathed a little easier when Aspen’s hand settled on her thigh as she sat beside her.
Dinner, after that, was a surprisingly uncomplicated affair. Eve didn’t know if it was because her parents felt called out for their menu choices, but it was the least stressful meal she’d shared with them in her entire life. And Aspen was just magnificent. She fielded her parents’ questions with such ease that Eve found herself being pulled under her spell as well. Sure, her parents still got their little jabs in, but they were blunted.
“Would anyone like dessert?” Irma asked as she appeared to clear their dinner plates.
“I wish, but I’m stuffed,” Aspen replied with a groan. “That was wonderful, Irma. Thank you.”
“Of course, Miss.” Irma turned a questioning look to Eve.
“None for me, either,” Eve declared. “I’m full, too. Thank you.”
Irma smiled, clearly pleased. “Mr. and Mrs. Morrison?”
“No, I don’t think we will, tonight,” Elizabeth answered for the pair.
That was as good of an end to the meal as any, and Eve arched a brow at Aspen as she inclined her head toward their room. “How are you feeling?”
Aspen rose to the occasion like a star, lifting her arm to stifle a feigned yawn. “Exhausted, honestly. It’s been a long day.”
“We won’t keep you any longer, then,” Killian said, sharing a look with Elizabeth that Eve couldn’t quite read. “I’m sure you have plans for tomorrow, but dinner will be at Cloud Nine. Snowcats will begin shuttling guests at six, dinner will be served promptly at seven-thirty.”
“Wonderful,” Aspen said as she stood. She turned and offered Eve a hand. “Shall we?”
Eve nodded and slipped her hand into Aspen’s. “See you tomorrow,” she told her parents as Aspen threaded their fingers together.
She could feel her parents’ eyes on them as they left, but, for once, it didn’t bother her. She squeezed Aspen’s hand as they turned down the hall to their room, and sighed happily when Aspen returned the gesture. “Thank you for tonight.”
“My pleasure.” A mischievous smirk quirked Aspen’s lips as she swung their joined hands between them. “How was your chicken?”
“Good.” Eve chuckled and leaned into Aspen. “God, they looked properly horrified when you said you were allergic.”
“Serves them right for picking a meal they knew you didn’t like.”
Eve hummed. “Tell me, though—are you really allergic?”
Aspen’s smirk widened. “Only morally. I mean, have you seen lambs? They’re adorable!”
Eve laughed as Aspen pushed the door to their room open, and nodded her thanks as Aspen ushered her through with a light tug on her hand. A flutter of nerves mixed with the pleasant, buzzy high she’d been riding at the sound of the door closing behind them, and her pulse picked up as she turned to face Aspen.
Did Aspen expect them to pick up where they’d left off before dinner?
