Page 22 of Eat Slay Love

Is he. . .French or at least, French-adjacent?

It wasn’t the thick, cartoonish accent that actors fake in bad romance movies, but the real thing. It was subtle, refined, rolling through his syllables like each one had been carefully selected for seduction.

There was rhythm to it.

Oh, I know this man isn’t actually French, because if he is. . .

Just like that, I saw myself rushing out to get rope and duct tape to actually kidnap him. Of course I would need to send Laila a large sum of money so she could eventually bail me out of jail for the crime I was destined to commit.

I smirked.

Cosmo raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Mr. Lyon [Lee-yon]. What is your question?"

And to my utter shock, Mr. Lyon—the man with the unholy green eyes gestured toward me. "Will we be waiting onherguest?"

What?!

I parted my lips.

Heat crawled up my neck.

Heads turned.

Suddenly, I felt the collective weight of everyone’s attention shift to me.

What the hell?

Cosmo, to my horror, smiled wickedly. "Thank you, Mr. Lyon, for your. . .concern, but like you. . .Ms. Harris is dining solo."

Oh, fuck.

I blinked.

He’s alone too?

I barely had time to react before Mr. Lyon turned those sinful green eyes back on me.

And he wore that look again.

ThatI want to ruin youlook.

Cosmo’s soft chuckle broke the moment. "Perhaps. . .love is in the air."

A few couples snickered.

I widened my eyes, and even more heat flashed across my cheeks.

“Now.” Cosmo clapped his hands together. “Let's begin with the first course.”

I swallowed.

And Mr. Lyon?

Well. . .hedid notstop looking atme.

Chapter three

Tunnel of Desire

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