Page 32 of Kai
“Do you like to cook?” I asked, digging into the rice and stuffing a forkful in my mouth.
“I love to cook.” He loaded his plate. “You?”
“Oh, God, no,” I scoffed even as I enjoyed the rice’s buttery flavors brightening my mouth. “You don’t want to eat anything I cook. Hell,Idon’t want to eat anything I cook, either.”
His masculine chortles turned up my lips and did something weird to my chest. “Then it’s a good thing I can cook for both of us.”
I glanced at him. Did his eyes always sparkle with mischief like that? Were we talking in some sort of sexy code language I’d never spoken before?
He held my stare like a champ, enthralling me with the depth of his gaze. Sitting across from him, I spotted the amber speckles that illuminated his honey-brown irises. The warmth that gleamed in his eyes reminded me of hugs and melted caramel; of the deepest colors of a Wyoming fall and the quiet loam that dampened my steps in the deep forest. I recognizedthe golden glow subtly hidden in the pool of his eyes, the same hue that brightened his aura. When he blinked, a frisson of heat raced over my skin.
Fixing my stare on my plate, I took another bite. While I chewed, my lips, my entire body remembered that I’d kissed him, andhowhe’d kissed me back. My pussy squeezed. I gave myself a mental slap for being so off around this man. Or perhaps it was the opposite. He turned me on without even trying.
At least give him some time to fall into one of your categories before you jump him.
He was a man. It was only a matter of time before he shed his kindness and revealed his true self. I intended to find out who he was right now. I prepared to examine this new specimen under my mind’s microscope. Would he end up being an asshole, a gold digger, an idiot? Or would he turn out to be all of the above?
Chapter Eleven
Cece
He didn’t shy away from my scrutiny. He held my stare like a man who had no fears, no secrets. When his gaze grazed my mouth, my lips tingled with the memory of his kisses, and a shiver of desire ricocheted through me. I had to postpone my microscopic analysis to deal with the heat flashing through me.
Fanning my fiery face, hiding my gaze behind my long bangs, I turned away and perused the cove’s stunning landscapes. Perhaps because I wasn’t thinking straight or paying attention to my plate, a chunk of garnished fish mixed in with my rice and made it to my mouth.
“Oh. My. Freaking. God.” I swallowed the bite, shoved another chunk of the succulent fish in my mouth, and, finding his stare, spoke with my mouth full. “You’re fantastic—I mean—thisis fantastic!” I swallowed with a gulp. “I’ve never tasted anything as delicious as this!”
“A freshly grilled Hawaiian snapper is one of life’s simple pleasures.” He blinded me with his smile.
“Your fish is amazing.” I wolfed down the last bite of my sample size, and lifting my plate, turned my lips down and channeled my best Oliver Twist. “Please, sir, I want some more.”
His rich chuckles rewarded my efforts. God, I loved that sound. He served me a full fillet and a refill of rice, salad, and chutney. I admired the way he took such care as he served my food, the precision of how he positioned everything on the plate until it looked both pretty and delicious.
I gorged on the fresh food. Maybe I should’ve slowed down, but I was ravenous. A look of accomplishment gleamed inhis eyes. As I stuffed myself silly, I spotted a hint of pride on his face. When I couldn’t eat another morsel, I slumped back in my chair and rested my hand on my stomach.
“Okay, so basic needs are now more than met,” I announced. “My tastebuds are thrilled.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” When his lips closed around his fork, I about lost it. I wished his mouth was busy with me instead of with his food.
Ah, shit. Another Cece-meltdown was in progress.
I refused to succumb to my horny and went back to the basics. “Thanks for this amazing meal. I’m not great at gratitude, but I mean it.”
Kai dipped his chin. “Mahalo.”
“If that means thank you, thenmahaloto you, too,” I said. “Now it’s time for you to explain.”
He crossed his utensils over his plate, took a sip of his water, and leaned back on the bench. “What would you like to know?”
I gave him my standard reply. “Everything.”
“That’s a ton of stuff,” he said. “Do you mind if I field strip my carbine while we talk?”
I shook my head. With easy, elegant movements, he got up and cleared the dishes from the table. He left behind my glass and a bottle of water. It was a guilty pleasure to watch him stack the plates and utensils. It was an even guiltier pleasure to admire his fluid gait and his firm ass as he carried the dishes inside.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
True to his word, he returned right away, ferrying a case in one hand and his cleaning kit in the other. He set up a portable stand on the table, opened the case, and perched his carbine on it before he laid out his cleaning tools.
