‘I can share, I just prefer not to,’ she murmurs.
Her eyes brighten when our table starts filling, and my heart inflates. She starts rearranging plates and moving glasses out of the way to take a couple of photos. The woman’s anartist, carefully balancing light to make the food look even more delicious.
When she starts to eat, it’s delicate, like she’s at tea with the queen. The way she moves is precise, like she overthinks everything, like she’s exceptionally controlled. She really doesn’t know how to let go, which is odd since she had no problem in bed.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask, pausing scooping cheese on my tortilla.
‘I’m eating corn on the cob?’
‘With a knife and fork?’ She’s looking at me like she doesn’t get it. ‘This is finger food, Butler. Put your tools down.’
Her gaze sharpens. ‘You’d know all about corn, wouldn’t you, Cap’n?’
Ignore her.Ignore her.‘You can be messy for once in your life.’
She seems to find a challenge in that. ‘I can be messy.’ A smile plays on her lips as she wipes her cutlery on the side of her plate and sets them aside. ‘You saw the other night.’
Well if that doesn’t make a man blush.
‘I’m glad you brought that up,’ I say, chewing.
‘Mm?’
‘We need to talk about your titties.’
She chokes on corn, shielding her mouth with her fist. ‘What about them?’ she asks, strangled.
‘They’re spectacular. Please pass on my regards to your doctor.’
She looks amused. ‘I will.’
‘Are they the only things you’ve had done?’
Her lips break into a smile and she sits back. ‘Guess.’
A bigger man would shrink away, afraid to hurt her feelings. But I’m not a bigger man. I’ve been tested by women my whole life and I’m not about to start backing down now.
I take in her face. It’s perfect. Too perfect. Faultless symmetry; full lips; sharp cheekbones; immaculate skin. I think about the rest of her body – tight ass, flat stomach, great titties, and toned everything. I also remember her saying something about her nose being different when she was young.
‘I’d say buccal fat removal to give you those cheekbones. Jawline contouring for that snatched jaw. Little bit of chin filler, maybe, to help with symmetry. Masseters, of course, everyone gets that. Brow lift, CO2resurfacing laser, definitely veneers. You’re a little young for heavy Botox but you don’t have a single crease so I’m thinking maybe a little for mid-face support. Obviously tits, nose – though it does look very natural so you wouldn’t know – and my guess is a BBL and a spot of lipo to help with toning.’
When I finish, she’s gaping at me.
‘Am I close?’ I nudge.
She bursts out laughing. It’s the first time I’ve made her laugh like that, amusement that doesn’t just reach her eyes but it fills them. My heart clenches in the strangest way. ‘No,’ she coughs into the back of her hand. ‘How do you know all that? Do you have aMormon Wivesobsession I don’t know about?’
‘My mom hasn’t frowned since the nineties.’ I shrug, going for a taco el pastor. ‘People aren’t born as hot as you. They make themselves hot.’
‘Don’t call me hot.’
‘Why not?’
‘I…’ She wriggles uncomfortably. ‘I don’t like compliments.’
I slam a hand on the table. ‘Are you kidding me right now? You literally live off validation from others.’ I chuckle into my glass. ‘It’s your entire lifestyle.’
‘I know but… I’m British. That trumps it.’
