Page 34 of Mr. Delicious
She was right, and more guilt tugged at my insides.
“I’m sure no man in their right mind would pass up a batch of your muffins.”
“You’re sweet.” She smiled.
I almost laughed at the compliment. Me? Sweet? No, I was far from it, but she made me want to try. If only for her, and that was saying a lot. I didn’t think I’d ever gone all out like this for any woman.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I do, and I can’t believe I’m here.” She brought her hands up to her cheeks and instantly looked quite worried.
“What? You have that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look.”
She laughed. “I’m going to be with you for a week. A week, I don’t even remember the last time I spent a week with Stella. I barely know you.”
I was wondering when she would start freaking out about that and had anticipated this.
“Well this is the part where we get to know more about each other.” I nodded.
She smiled at that and her cheeks colored to that shade of rose I loved.
“Okay… What’s your favorite color?”
I was surprised that she’d ask something so simple. “Green, like the grass.”
That was how our conversation began. Then it deepened, and soon, we were talking about all sorts of things. I’d even moved to sit next to her. Best of all I loved the way she loosened up around me, and she too was starting to flirt.
The eight-hour journey went by in a flash.
The last time I talked that much to anyone was probably back in college. Definitely hadn’t done it since.
It was exactly eight when we arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport.
Like always the air smelled of excitement and food.
Wren reminded me of a kid who’d just gotten what they always wanted for Christmas. First, she was excited, then she got this look of awe and appreciation.
Then excitement again as we got into the limo and set off for dinner.
We hit traffic and were slightly delayed, but she enjoyed being stuck.
Her eyes were trained on the city lights and everything around us as we passed by.
The journey took just over forty minutes.
Her face lit up when she saw the restaurant. I knew she wanted dinner on top of the Eiffel Tower, but I had that planned for tomorrow as I didn’t manage to get my usual table at Le Jules Verne. Although it was on the second level of the Eiffel Tower it offered private terrace dining I knew she would love. It would be worth the wait.
For tonight we would be dining at the haute-cuisine restaurant of the Shangri-La hotel, L'Abeille.
This place was a must for any member of my family. Mom always came here first before she went anywhere else. For her she couldn’t do anything else until she stopped to eat here. That’s how amazing the place was.
I loved the way Wren’s face lit up when we got out of the car, but as we headed inside she stopped mid stride on the pavement and looked around. Wonder and admiration washed over her beautiful face.
I panicked when she seemed like she was going to cry.
“Wren, hey. You okay?” I pressed my hand to the small of her back, loving the delicate feel of her.
She tucked a wayward strand behind her ear and turned to face me, those beautiful eyes searching mine and when a tear ran down her cheek I instinctively reached out and caught it.
