Page 50 of Broken

“Jerk,” I grumble.

“Now, back to what I was saying?—”

“I really don’t want to hear more about you spanking me,” I warn him.

“I screwed up. Shelby loved Mexican food. I just assumed you would. I wanted to make tonight special for you.”

“King,” I murmur, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

“Stop it. Today has been beautiful. You’ve spent way too much money, but I love the outfit you bought me—not to mention the other two outfits back in the hotel.” He smiles at mywords and somehow that makes me feel better. “I also do like tacos. So, we’re golden.”

“Okay, then if you could pick anywhere you want to go to eat, where would it be?”

“You have to promise not to tell my father.”

“I don’ think that will be an issue ever,” he mutters, making me giggle.

“Other than tacos or chips and salsa, I’m not big on the Mexican cuisine. Now, my family history is mostly from Spain, and I love paella. Still, if I get to choose, I’d go eat Italian.”

“Scandalous,” he laughs.

“You can’t beat chicken parmesan or a pizza.”

“I’ll make a note,” he quips.

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your favorite food. If you could go anywhere to eat, what would you choose?”

“I don’t think I can tell you the answer to that,” he hedges.

“Why on earth not?”

“I’m trying really hard to impress you, and I’m pretty sure this would ruin all my hard work.”

“Who says I’ve been impressed at all?” I snicker.

“Damn, woman,” he laughs.

“C’mon spill, King.”

“There’s a hotdog stand in Virginia that has homemade hotdog sauce. It’s the best fucking footlong I’ve ever had in my life. They give you this huge bag of shoestring fries and splash this seasoning on them, likedamn. They also make this ketchup from scratch. I don’t know what they do with it, but it’s damn good.”

I almost cackle as I listen to him. “So, we’re saying you’re addicted to dairy bar food?”

“Only if we’re talking footlong hotdogs,” he cautions.

“I don’t know if I can live up to some dive in Virginia, but I can make a pretty mean hotdog sauce.”

“The fuck you say,” he whispers, eyes twinkling.

I shrug. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Then, Sunshine, I’m going to invite you to rock my world.”

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