Page 96 of Perfect Pairing
“How is it possible you’ve gotten more beautiful since yesterday?” he asked.
My cheeks heated, and I was grateful for the low lights hiding the worst of it. My outfit wasn’t anything fancy—a simple black wool sweater and velvet skirt set I paired with tights and black satin pumps, minimal makeup, and a loose fishtail braid in my hair. I felt impossibly sexy, and by the way Ezra’s gaze raked over my body from head to foot, I knew he thought the same.
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m actually not,” he assured me. “You’re the most stunning, most astonishing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Brie.”
“Well, you’re not so bad yourself, Chef.”
He crossed the room to greet me with a peck on the cheek then grabbed my hand and led me to my chair.
“What is all this?” I asked.
Once we were seated, he said, “It didn’t make sense for us to go to some fancy restaurant when I’m the best chef I know.”
I grinned, not bothering to refute him. His food was without a doubt the best I’d ever tasted, and I found his confidence in himself sexy as hell.
“So what did you make for me?”
Ezra leaned across the table and, with a flourish, lifted the cover from my plate.
“Your meatballs!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “Finally!”
“You did demand I feed them to you one day,” he reminded me. “So your wish is my command.”
“And I’m assuming these are your infamous glazed dill butter potatoes?” I asked, pointing at the thinly sliced spuds fanned out on one side of my dish.
“And roasted veggies,” he confirmed. “So dig in.”
Excitedly, I picked up my fork and sliced a meatball in half, dragging it through a bit of the gravy he’d drizzled on top before bringing it to my lips. The scent of fragrant herbs and seasonings invaded my senses, and I popped the bite into my mouth. The second I closed my lips around it, I moaned.
Something so simple had no right being that delicious. As I chewed, the flavors exploded on my tongue, and I closed my eyes as I savored the complexity. The firmness of the meatball combined with the creaminess of the gravy was the most perfect pairing, and I wanted to eat these every day for the rest of my life.
“Well?” Ezra asked when I opened my eyes, his own plate still untouched.
“That’s the best meatball I’ve ever had.”
I’d offered Ezra plenty of compliments over the years, and I knew thousands of other people had as well, but I’d never seen him blush with the praise like he did then. The knowledge that I was responsible had pride and satisfaction rising in my chest.
God, he was beautiful. I thought so every time I looked at him. With his brown hair that was longer on top and swept over his head in waves, brown eyes like pools of melted chocolate, square jaw, straight nose, and high cheekbones—well, he was downright pretty. Though he shaved daily, dark facial hair constantly shadedhis cheeks and chin, the promise of the beard I was certain he could grow but had never seen. It gave him a slight air of ruggedness that truthfully had my panties wet from a simple cursory glance in his direction.
Assured that I was enjoying myself, Ezra dove into his own food, and we chatted about nothing and everything—but mostly, we talked about my plans for the bakery for the next four months while business slowed to a glacial crawl.
“Well, thankfully,” I started, licking the final bit of gravy off my fork in a way that had Ezra’s eyes darkening, the chocolate depths almost wholly overtaken by his darker pupils. “I don’tneedthe shop revenue to survive, but my online store will stay open, so I’ll still be making an income from that. I was actually approached by the community center to host a few baking classes, so I’ll have that to fill my time as well.”
“Will you host those at the bakery?” he asked, his voice a low rasp that had goosebumps skittering across my skin. We weren’t talking about anything intimate, and yet, his entire demeanor had shifted.
Clearly, he was hoping the evening would head in that direction, and when he shifted his leg out and brushed my calf with the toe of his shoe, I was hard pressed to find a reason why it shouldn’t.
“Yes,” I breathed, and my heart rate kicked up. “There’s plenty of room in the kitchen to host ten or fifteen people.”
“That’s great,” he said absently. “Will you share a recipe from Granny’s cookbook?”
“Of course. Gotta keep those family traditions alive.” I gnawed on my bottom lip, holding back my deepest desire,unsure if speaking it into the world would somehow bite me in the ass later.
“What aren’t you saying?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on my mouth.
I sighed, hating and loving how well he knew me in equal measure.
