“Which salad did you like best, though?”
I point.We made them leave the plates when the staff tried to clear them so I could check things again.“I finished that whole thing.”I point at the one on the dutch blue and white china.
“The sweet one,” Richard says.“I should’ve known.”
“I’m a sucker for strawberries, but I also love goat cheese.”
“Good to know.”He nods.“And the soups?”
“This one, for sure,” I say, indicating the phenomenal onion soup in the rose china.“But the others were very good, too.I’m just not a huge fan of leeks.”
“How American of you.”He smirks.“And now, which main dish?”
I’ve voted for two of the three chefs.Since I liked the duck and both chicken dishes are about the same, I pick the one that’s by the chef I hadn’t voted for.That forces him to pick the chefhelikes as the winner.
“No fair,” he says.“You picked one dish from each.”
“Richard, it’syourchef.You have to choose what you like.”
“I want you to like them, too,” he says.“I really hope you’ll be eating here quite often.”
My heart twinges.“The thing is?—”
“No, don’t say it.”He presses a finger against my mouth, and it’s warm, and it feels larger than I expected it to be.“Because I already prepared a tie-breaker.”
“Richard,” I say, my mouth moving against his finger.“Youare the tie-breaker.”
He smiles.“I may not have moves.”He finally drops his finger, and I actually miss feeling it.“And I may be a halfwit with women, but I have learned one thing.”
I can’t wait to hear this.I lift both eyebrows.
“They maysaythey don’t want to pick something, and they may insist that you’re the boss, but strong women, the kind of woman youwant?She wants to be the one making decisions.So if I want to keep you around, and Samantha, I very muchdowant to keep you around, I need you to care enough about me to make some decisions.”His deep voice, his earnest eyes, and his thoughtful words...
It’s too much.I open my mouth to tell him the truth.He deserves to know that this thing between us can’t last.It’s already starting to hurt me, knowing it can’t continue.
“Dessert, my lord.”The man in the penguin suit bows, and two more people walk through, carrying a tray apiece.
Oh, my.
“Now, this time, l had them pick from my three favorite desserts.I know we’re in Ireland, but I was raised in England.”Richard’s self-deprecating smile’s adorable.“Sticky toffee pudding is my favorite, but a close second is called an Eton mess—as long as the ratio between the meringue and the strawberries is right.”
“And if the strawberries are good.”I arch one eyebrow.“And it’s not exactly strawberry season.”I glance up.“What’s that third one?”
“The third thing I asked for was a trifle.It’s fruit and layers of custard and spongecake, basically.”Richard studies the plates as the waiters set desserts in front of us.
“Why are theresixdifferent desserts?”I almost choke.“Did you think I was trying to go up two dress sizes right after I met my favorite dress of all time?”
Richard laughs.“The chefs wanted to show that they could make Irish desserts, too.I did request local chefs.”
“So what are those desserts, then?”
This time, it’s the footman, or whatever the guy holding the second tray’s job description is, who pipes up.“That’s an Irish apple cake?—”
“Ooh, that’s my favorite.”
Richard beams.
“A chocolate Guinness cake, and a bread and butter pudding, which is my personal favorite.”The man half-bows and retreats to the wall.
