gliding through them so quickly it was nearly a blur.
Figures he’d discovered cooking after he left town. It was like he went off into the world and learned how to be the perfect leading man. And there I was, more like a bumbling sidekick than the heroine of my own story.
“You really didn’t have to do this, you know,” I said, sipping at the glass of red wine he’d set in front of me.
“Cooking for myself gets boring.”
I played with the little charm at the base of my glass, wondering if his assistant picked it out, ensured his house would be filled with every last necessity. “You just want to show off.”
“Maybe.” He glanced up and grinned, a little wolfish. “But it depends.”
“On?”
“On whether you are. Impressed, that is.” He turned to the fridge and leaned down, grabbing a bundle of green onions. I took the opportunity to check out his very perfect ass, trying not to blush.
“So what are you making me?” I asked, trying to focus.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Eventually,” he said, correcting me, “you’ll go sit on the deck, and I’ll bring you a plate.”
I pouted, but it was more playful than anything. Watching him navigate the kitchen was practically a religious experience, and I could’ve sat there all day.
I tried to remind myself that whatever this was and however good it felt—it wasn’t real. I couldn’t get attached to being around Landon again. He would leave, just like he’d left before, one way or another.
Twenty minutes later, Landon pulled out a wrought iron dining chair on the sprawling back deck. I obediently sat, pulling a napkin onto my lap. Three candles were clustered in the middle of the table on a hunter green tablecloth, paired with cream-colored, linen napkins. It looked fancier than most restaurants I dined at.
And then my world went suddenly dark.
“Hey!” I said, tugging at the silk handkerchief he’d just put over my eyes.
“Just trust me,” he said, leaning over, his breath hot against my neck.
I swallowed. My nipples were suddenly tight and stiff.
He grabbed my chair, dragging it around to face the other direction. Then he sat across from me, our knees bumping. He set the palm of his hand on my knee, searing me with one touch.
“Now, I’m going to feed you the appetizer, and you’re going to guess what it is.”
“I saw you cooking it,” I said, smirking. I wanted to look him in the eyes. The darkness was unnerving; I felt like I was at his mercy.
“Really?’ He squeezed my knee, letting his fingers feather out across my lower thigh. “What did I make?”
I paused. There was… chopping. And something sizzling in a pan. Dear God, I’d been so distracted I didn’t even remember anything after the tomato chopping.
His chuckle was low and throaty, turning me on. “That’s what I thought. Open your lips.”
I complied while wondering how long it would be before I melted into my chair.
Something touched my mouth, and I bit down. It was crunchy at first, some sort of toasted bread. But then it was creamy and sweet, and I fought the urge to actually moan. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
“It’s… amazing,” I said, after I swallowed. “What is that?”
“Bone Marrow,” he said, amusement in his voice.
I ripped the blindfold off, staring at him with my jaw dropped. “You just fed me bone marrow?”
He laughed, the sexiest, throatiest laugh I’d ever heard. “Yes. It’s a delicacy.”
“Ugh,” I said, even though it had tasted like sweet, buttery heaven. “It sounds like something you’d feed to a Rottweiler.”
He raised a brow and leaned in. “Does it taste like something you’d feed to a Rottweiler?”
“No,” I said, even though I wanted to insist on it. Even though I wanted to send him off kilter the way he’d done with me.
“Exactly. I told you… You can trust me. I’m not going to feed you dog food.”
“I’m afraid to trust you, Landon.” I was smiling as I said it, but the words fell heavy, and his expression changed, like he knew this was about more than the food. The light in his eyes dimmed, turning more intense as he leaned forward, until our faces were just inches apart. My chest tightened, the air in my lungs not enough.
He spoke in a low, serious voice. “I had my reasons for leaving. But I’m back now.”
“Why now?” I asked.
“You know why. Prestige is opening in two weeks. I need to be here to oversee the launch.”
“You opened