He pushed through the throng of humongous bodies, exchanging a fewhey mansanddudes.
Then a steaming pile landed in front of me. The presentation left a lot to be desired. Brown goo covered the chipped plate, and the dull cutlery was rolled in a wrinkled paper napkin.
But the scent rising from the plate made my mouth water.
New experiences, here I come.
I unwrapped the knife and fork and dug into the mountain of food, encountering a layer of tender meat and, under it, mashed potatoes. The goo ran into the dent I made, creating a small lake.
Gravy dripping from my fork, I tasted the first mouthful.
Christ Almighty!
I groaned and chewed and groaned again. That was…absolutely marvelous. For a moment, the blend of tastes took over my being, and I breathed through my nose, drawing in more of the smell as I rolled my tongue in my mouth. I had to fight the urge just to let my face drop into the plate and slurp everything up like a dog.
I opened my eyes after the foodgasm, a little dazed. Jordy hadn’t yet touched his meal.
“Wha?” I mumbled, mouth still full.
“I guess you like it?”
I nodded, scooping more mash and gravy on my fork as I swallowed. “This is fantastic. You need a Michelin critic to visit this place.”
Jordy finally began eating, the cutlery like toys in his large hands.
“A food critic? Bert would spit in their soup.”
I snickered. “Local pride, huh?”
He hummed and swallowed. “When there’s something to be proud of, why not?”
“It’s absolute heaven.”
“Bert’s checking on you.”
I lifted my head. The old guy behind the counter was craning his neck our way, along with at least five monstrous alpha bears. I raised my thumb at him and offered what I hoped was a polite smile.
He beamed like the sun and gave me a salute. A couple of guys clapped, and one even whooped. I couldn’t help but smile wider.
When I glanced back at Jordy, he was grinning. His expression was full of warmth, and for a second there, I forgot about the most delicious food I’d ever eaten.
It felt like I’d earned that smile, which made my neck heat up. I hoped like hell my ears didn’t turn red.
I returned to the heavenly meatloaf soaked in gravy and didn’t look up until my plate was empty.
6
JORDY
Okay, so maybe Laurel Riley wasn’t the snooty diva I thought he was.
He was a little awkward, though, and a whole lot distracted. I was starting to get why Monty felt the need to protect him from random shit.
I kept an eye on him as he polished his plate, scraping off every little drop of mash until the porcelain looked like he’d pulled it out of the dishwasher. He ate faster than Monty.
“You must have been hungry.”
Laurel wiped his face with a napkin and dropped it onto the empty plate. “I’ve been to shitloads of restaurants in shitloads of countries, but this is by far the best culinary experience of my life.”
