Page 25 of Perfect Pairing
“So good,” Hansen groaned happily around a mouthful of food from where he sat between me and Ezra, and I barked out a laugh.
“He’s quite the kid,” I told Ezra, who practically had hearts in his eyes as he watched his son enjoy his meal.
“He’s definitely something,” Ezra said softly, ruffling Hansen’s hair before diving into his own soup and sandwich.
Before I took my first bite, I remembered what my dad had said about Ezra’s grilled cheese being life changing.
I held the triangle of sandwich out in front of me, inspecting it closely as I said to Ezra, “You know, my dad speaks very highly of this particular dish.”
Ezra chuckled. “He and Cal do order it a lot.”
“How much is a lot? I feel like that much cheese can’t be good for my dad’s arteries.”
“At least three times a week.”
“Dang, that’s impressive.”
Ezra shrugged. “It’s only impressive if you think so.”
I could tell there was a lot hewasn’tsaying with that statement, and it warmed me to realize my opinion mattered to him.
So, with his eyes on mine, I dipped the sandwich into the tomato soup, lifted it to my mouth, and took a bite.
Flavors exploded across my tongue, and I closed my eyes to savor them all. The slightly acidic bite of the tomato balanced the heavier flavors of the cheese perfectly. The bread was expertly toasted, the crunch providing a nice contrast to the soft cheese.
Ezra watched me closely, his gaze lingering on my mouth. I couldn’t resist tracing the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip and watching his chocolate eyes shift from milk to dark.
That spark between us once again electrified the air, and I was grateful for the presence of Ezra’s son. Otherwise, who knew what I’d be liable to do?
I’d never felt this way about a man, never experienced any sort of compulsion to rip his clothes off. I wasn’t a virgin, but my dalliances were few and far between.
And I’d only been with boys.
Ezra Wendt was all man, and I wanted to sink my teeth into him, to savor him like I was his food.
Hansen noisily slurping his soup pulled me out of my daze, and I snapped my attention back to my own meal, my cheeks surely turning as red as the soup thanks to my rising embarrassment.
God, who did I think I was, salivating over Ezra? He’d lost his wife somehow, and I was sure the last thing he needed was somegirl going moony-eyed over him. Especially not when that girl was his boss’s daughter—and eight years younger than him.
The tugging sensation in my chest urging me toward Ezra was nearly impossible to ignore, but I’d try my best.
We consumed the rest of our meal in a fraught silence that was ultimately broken by a voice shouting for Ezra from the dining room at the same time the oven timer went off. I rose to turn it off and take out my cupcakes.
“Ez?” the voice asked as it came closer. “You here?”
“In the kitchen, Dad!” he hollered back, and a moment later, a man who bore a striking resemblance to his son appeared in the entryway.
“Papa!” Hansen shouted, throwing his hands out for a hug from where he was strapped into his highchair.
“Hi,älskling,” the man said, crossing the room to drop a kiss to his grandson’s head.
“What’re you doing here?” Ezra asked.
“You weren’t answering your phone, and I wanted to make sure Hansen was with you.”
“I’m wight here,” Hansen said, pointing a finger at the center of his chest.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I didn’t get to spend much time around kids, but dang, he was cute.
