Page 113 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“William, how are you?”

William shook the man’s hand. “I’m well, thank you for asking.”

The man’s dark eyes turned to me, and William came back to my side and slid an arm around me. I’d never been into a man being possessive of me, but at this moment, I was good with it. It felt amazing to know that William was willing to tell the world how he felt about me by simply being affectionate. “Lorenzo, this is Brooke Shaw.” William smiled at me. “Brooke, this is Lorenzo; he runs the restaurant.”

I gave the man a wide smile and offered him my hand. “Thank you for having us in early.”

Lorenzo’s grip didn’t rival my dad’s, but it was firm and his expression warm. “Anything for William. He’s one of my best customers.” The man stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Although he usually dines alone or with his sister.”

“I hope I’m not intruding, darlin’.” I batted my eyelashes at William, who shook his head and then kissed me on the cheek.

“Never,” he said as he squeezed me.

Lorenzo looked positively giddy as he led us to a far table, one of the only ones that afforded a small amount of privacy. There was already an array of mouthwatering food laid out, including bagels, pancakes, several flaky pastries, three types of eggs, and biscuits and gravy.

William pulled out my chair, then pushed it in as I sat.

This wasn’t my first time being wined and dined by a rich man, but it had been a while, and I’d never felt anything for the others, who had included potential law firm owners who had been thinking about hiring me as well as the wealthy students at Harvard.

William settled his hands on my shoulders, and where his fingers met my skin, I was sure it would spontaneously combust. “Lorenzo doesn’t usually make biscuits and gravy, but I told him if he could impress you, he should put it on the menu.”

Lorenzo wiggled his bushy eyebrows at me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything.”

William moved away, leaving me feeling cold again. Instead of sitting across from me, he settled into the chair on the adjacent side of the table. He put the green cloth napkin from his plate into his lap and moved it a couple of times before he looked up.

Was he nervous?

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who felt like a fish out of water this morning. I decided we needed to talk about something fun, or we would both end up fussing the whole meal. I glanced at the biscuits and gravy and pointed. “Is he really trying to impress me?”

William nodded. “Very much so, especially after I raved about Mama’s.” He gestured to my plate. “May I?”

“May you what?”

“Dish up for you.”

I blinked. He was going to decide what I was going to eat?

He chuckled. “I promise, I’ll only put things on there that you like.”

“Do you normally dish up for people?” I barely kept the edge from my voice.

“Only beautiful women I’m trying to impress.” His eyes didn’t wander from mine as he said, “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to lean over and get anything on that adorable dress.”

I reflexively looked down. When my gaze landed on my ample bosom, I realized what he’d been talking about, and a furious blush turned my neck, cheeks, and ears into fire. I usually wore stained overalls, so it didn’t matter if I leaned into anything. “Way to make a girl self-conscious,” I muttered.

“That was certainly not my intention.” William pointed at my plate again. “Lorenzo usually does this, but I asked him if I could. May I?”

I took the napkin and waved. “Sure.”

William actually stood, starting at one corner of the table, and asked me about everything. If we’d been at my dad’s house, the portions would have been big enough that only one pancake and a single pastry would have fit on the plate. Here, everything was petite, and William masterfully arranged what I asked for before he set the offering down in front of me.

He then made quick work of filling his own plate and settled in.

I eyed the biscuits and gravy. “I feel pressure here.”

“Why?” William asked.

Neither of us had started to eat.

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