Page 40 of Alex

He chuckles, but I don’t return the gesture. “Elise, it’s dinnertime.”

I stop working on the contract as worry creeps through my mind that I’m going to mess it up while Alex is trying to have a conversation with me.

“Alex, I have a lot of work left to do tonight. Dinner will have to wait.”

“No. You already skipped lunch, and I’m assuming you didn’t get breakfast, so you will eat now.” His tone is authoritative, leaving no room for debate.

I stare at him, not fully believing that he is practically bossing me around.

His tight lips soften as he walks closer to me. “Please have dinner with me. I’ve already cooked, so it won’t pull you away from work for more than a few minutes.”

I glance at my computer screen, at the many hours of work I still need to finish, but my stomach lets out a terrifyingly loud growl that brings a smile to my face.

“I guess eating won’t take too long.”

Alex holds out his hand for me to take. “Nope, it won’t. Plus, I’m pretty sure if you don’t feed that beast, it will only get worse and you won’t get any work done.”

He laughs, but I know he’s right. I just won’t verbally admit it.

I intertwine my fingers with his and let him pull me towards the kitchen. The closer we get, the more aromatic the hallway is.

Garlic lingers in the air, causing my stomach to let out another growl.

Alex pushes open the door to the kitchen. “I made fettuccine with a garlic Alfredo sauce. I hope that’s okay.”

“It smells incredible. Thank you for cooking.”

I glance around the huge modern kitchen and the stainless steel appliances. The six burner stove is in a center island with a hood vent hanging from the ceiling. Pots and pans hang on the closest wall.

It looks more like a restaurant’s kitchen than a home’s kitchen.

My gaze makes it back to Alex’s. “This is the biggest kitchen I’ve ever seen in a house.”

“Yeah, it’s a complete waste except for when my mom would throw her lavish parties.”

Alex lets go of my hand and makes his way over to the pot of pasta before scooping out two hefty portions and smothering the noodles with the creamy sauce.

He carries the bowls over to a small table set up in the corner of the large room before jogging over to the oven.

My heart leaps in my chest and my mouth waters as he pulls out a baking sheet of garlic bread.

He piles them onto a plate and carries it over to the table. Pulling out my chair, he gestures for me to take a seat.

“Thank you.” I say as he sits in the seat across from me. “This is beyond amazing.”

The grin on his face widens. “I’m glad you think so.”

He watches me and waits for me to take a bite. I moan as the flavors wash over my taste buds.

“Yep, I am officially jealous of your cooking skills.”

I might know how to make pasta, but I couldn’t ever replicate this sauce. The sauce I eat is out of a jar or even a can.

When I take my second bite, Alex finally digs into his own bowl.

In between bites, I ask, “So, how did you get into cooking?”

“Believe it or not, my mom taught me when I was little. She wasn’t just your standard trophy wife. Well, not in the beginning. The older I got, the worse she became. Family time turned into spa trips and lavish parties.”

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