The Healing Touch - Apryl Baker Page 0,35

place!”

“Uh…I’m not a big duck person, Becca. I thought we were eating seafood?” Duck did not sit well on his stomach. Not at all.

“They have other things. Please, Dimitri, can we eat here? Pleeeease?”

Well, fuck. There she went with those puppy dog eyes. How could he say no? “Sure, sweetheart. We can eat here.”

She even forgot her anxiety. She was so intent upon looking at everything, she didn’t notice how crowded the place was. Granted, she had his hand in an iron grip, but she was chatting up a storm with the hostess as they were seated.

“Ohmygod…” The words left her mouth in a rush when she saw the menu. So many choices! She’d wanted to try this place since she’d seen it on TV, but never thought she’d actually get here. For that, she’d have to thank Dimitri and his high-handed tactics.

Dimitri, she noticed, was looking at the menu in consternation. He was worried about his stomach. For a man who could eat like there was no tomorrow, he had severe digestive issues. “You can try the Thanksgiving sandwich. It’s turkey and stuffing. That won’t hurt you.”

“What are you getting?”

She took her time and studied the menu, wanting it all but settling on the duck fries and the duck club sandwich. Dimitri’s face screwed up so fiercely it set her to giggling. He was such a wuss with food.

The waitress came back with their drinks and took the order, Dimitri getting the turkey sandwich with some trepidation. She rolled her eyes. He ate like a horse at Thanksgiving. He could handle one tiny sandwich.

“It is not funny.” He shot her a disgruntled look. “If I end up sick and in the bathroom, you can explain to everyone why I’m not there.”

“That, I can do. ‘Dear fans and fellow authors, I must apologize for bowing out of the signing because I’m sitting on the toilet shitting my brains out.’”

The first taste of his draft beer spewed out of his mouth. “You would not!”

“Try me. You hauled my ass down here, and you aren’t getting out of this signing.”

“You’re an evil woman, you know that?”

She tossed him a grin. “Only when I have to deal with your obnoxious ass.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, and it set her off giggling again, something she’d never done in her life. Becca was not the kind of girl to giggle. It always seemed immature, but she found it was impossible to be the mature adult around this man. He was incorrigible.

“Viktor is going to be jealous.” He picked up the paper from her straw and started to ball it up. “He’s always looking for places he sees on that damn show. I am going to gleefully lord it over him that we were here first.”

“Food is a huge thing for you boys, isn’t it?” It was something she’d always found curious. All six of the Kincaid brothers were fascinated by food.

He nodded, his fingers rolling the paper. “I guess it’s because our mom instilled a love of food in us. Food was something we associated with family, with get-togethers, with sadness. Every emotion you can have, every event you celebrate or mourn, there is always food. Dad’s the one who taught us if we are going to eat like horses, then we need to make sure to stay in shape. He’s the reason we all push ourselves so much, physically. It’s what we know.”

Becca appreciated food for an entirely different purpose. It had been hard to come by in her household. Not because there wasn’t enough money, but because her mother typically spent it all on her habit. She and Jackson lived off mac and cheese for three whole months. Her dad usually ate at his clubhouse before he stumbled home too drunk to care there wasn’t any real food in the house.

She learned to value each meal, to savor every bite. She tended to cook exactly what she needed, no more, no less. There was always food in her house, but she ate like a person on a strict rationing diet. Only what she needed. Sure, she cooked things that tasted great, but she didn’t overindulge just to make sure she’d always have enough.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dimitri’s voice interrupted her about the same time the wadded-up ball of paper hit her in the face.

“Really?”

His grin was more wolfish than the devil. “You went somewhere in that pretty head. What were you thinking about?”

She told him about the