This is going to be torture.
We settled around the coffee table with the stacks of totes and booklets and started to assemble the bags. She tied the luggage tags onto the straps.
“Tell me about your job,” I said, just wanting to hear her voice.
“Oh, it’s nothing interesting.” She set the bag in her hand aside and reached for the next one.
“Everything about you is interesting to me,” I said, giving her a meaningful stare.
She swallowed and looked down at her hands as she tied on the tag.
“Well, it’s marketing essentially. But I don’t feel like I’m actually doing anything worthwhile at the company. I’ve been there for three years, I think?” She sighed. “My ex wanted me to get a normal corporate job. He didn’t like when I was freelancing and home all the time.
“Looking back, I can see all of thered flags. He was controlling and insecure, but I was charmed. I was so stupid.”
“That’s on him, not you,” I growled. “He is the one responsible for how he treated you. And I’m so glad you’re free of him.”
Her cheeks hollowed as she bit the inside of them. Had I gone too far? Everything I said was true, but it was a bit intense. I tried to pull back.
“So if you could do anything for work, what would you want to do?” I asked carefully.
“I liked freelancing. Maybe I’ll do that again.” Her face tipped up, and she gave me a soft, slow smile. She glowed with it.
My full lips curved into a matching grin. “I hope so. You’re too talented to be wasted at a company that doesn’t appreciate you.”
She laughed softly, and my heart soared at the sound. “You don’t know I’m talented. You’ve never seen my work.”
“Want to prove me wrong?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I’d love to see your work.”
“Maybe later,” she muttered, biting back another laugh. She focused back on the luggage tags. After a moment, her stomach gurgled, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly embarrassed.
“How does leftover Chinese food sound?” I asked, already standing.
Her pinched expression melted into gratitude, and my stomach clenched. It was so obvious she wasn’t used toanyone helping her. I wanted to spoil her every day for the rest of our lives.
A few minutes later, I sat down the steaming takeout containers and silverware. We unceremonially shoved the totes aside and dug into the food.
“So tell me about your family. Two brothers, but do you have any sisters? What about your parents?” she asked between bites.
I nodded, chewing and swallowing the bite of lemon chicken in my mouth. “Just Malik and Adrian. And our parents are in Scotland."
“Oh, why?”
“They’re from there. They moved here before I was born, had us and raised us here, and then they moved back when we were adults.”
Her eyes were wide and doe-like as she listened. So fucking adorable.
“I know they hoped we would follow them back, but our lives are here. And Scotland makes an excellent vacation destination,” I said with a smirk. “I can’t wait to bring you there.”
Her brows furrowed. “Caspian, I don’t think—”
“Don’t spoil my dream,” I said softly.
She paused. “Alright, so you’ll take me to Scotland. Anywhere else we’ll go?”
I didn’t need time to think of my answer. “I’ll take you anywhere and everywhere. We should go to Paris together,and Rome. Have you been there?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to Europe.”
