Page 26 of King of My Heart

He reached over and flipped to a page in the middle of the book, tapping on the image of a misty forest. His hand brushed mine for a fleeting moment, and shivers ran down my spine. “That one. Feels like the kind of place you’d go to disappear.”

“That’s what I loved about it, too,” I admitted, watching him closely. “The whole trip was like that, really. Finding places where it felt like the world just…stopped.”

He nodded, his gaze distant. “I’ve had moments like that. Rare, but they stick with you.”

“Like on a set?” I asked, testing the waters.

His eyes flicked to me. He didn’t look amused, but he surprised me by what he said next. “Which movies of mine have you watched?”

I pursed my lips and shrugged. “A couple. Mostly the romantic comedies. Not much of an action movie fan, but I know you’re amazing in them.”

He huffed and moved his gaze to the water again. I knew that would be the only conversation we would have about his acting.

For now.

Again, I decided not to push.

There was another moment of silence, neither of us saying anything, while nature showed us just how beautiful it could sound.

He broke the quiet unexpectedly, as usual. “You like fish?”

I blinked. “Um, yeah?”

“For dinner,” he clarified, his tone gruff as ever.

I stared at him, trying to figure out where this was going. “Dinner? At your place?”

He shot me a sideways glance, clearly regretting the invitation. “Forget it.”

“No, no, I’d love to,” I said quickly, trying not to sound too eager. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“Seven o’clock,” he said, brushing the dirt off his jeans. “Don’t be late.”

Before I could say anything else, he was already walking away, leaving me with a racing heart and a million questions.

As usual.

***

One and a half hours later, I stood outside his door. I’d chosen something casual but nice to wear. A soft sweater, skirt, and my favorite boots. It was fairly warm for a September night, but I took every opportunity I got to not wear jeans.

When he opened the door, he looked as he always did. Scruffy, broad-shouldered, and slightly annoyed.

“You’re on time,” he said, stepping aside to let me in.

“I try to be punctual for special occasions,” I teased.

His brow raised, but he didn’t comment. Once inside, he led me into the kitchen. The smell of herbs and butter made my stomach growl. I looked toward the oven, where I could see two whole fish lying in a baking dish, with lemon slices and herbs decorating the fish.

It looked delicious.

“Did you catch them yourself?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He looked proud, but he had to pay it cool. “It’s easy.”

I pursed my lips. “It needs patience, no?”

“Lots of it.”

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