Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
LIAM
I needed a good protein source after that bullshit hellish practice. Greek food is my favorite, and I’ve got kabobs, rice, and veggies. Double everything. I wasn’t sure what Ruby would want, but I knew Mezza Grill had an amazing mango-stuffed chicken dish, so I ordered it for her.
Hopefully she likes it.
I’ll give her mine if she needs it, but I’ve been looking forward to lamb all day long.
“You know you didn’t have to bring me anything. I was just going to have some cheese and crackers,” Ruby calls out as she moves around her kitchen. I can hear dishes clanking in the distance, with cabinet doors opening and closing.
I set the bags on the kitchen counter, then watch as she takes them over to her side and begins placing food on plates. I don’t know what exactly she’s doing because I always just eat out of the containers.
“Are you putting dinner on plates?” I ask.
She hums, nodding a couple of times.
“Why?”
Ruby shrugs a shoulder, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Why not?”
I can’t think of a good reason, except for the cleanup. But before I can mention the dishes, she has an answer for me without me even having to ask. She must have anticipated my comment.
“The dishwasher does all the work to clean them. Plus, it’s less waste.”
I don’t tell her that we have to throw away the containers no matter what, because they’re right here in front of us. Really, the waste is using the water for dishes that don’t need to be done, but it’s not a conversation that matters.
The sooner we can eat this food, the sooner I can eat her.
Ruby picks up both plates and walks over to a very small table she has set up. Reaching across the bar, I grab the two forks she’s taken out and the two glasses of water she poured and follow her to the table.
She’s already seated, her head tipped back slightly, her eyes focused on me, a smile playing on her lips. Sinking down in the chair across from her, I want to tuck into my food and shovel it in, but I figure I’ll save my true eating habits for a third date.
Reaching for a kebab, I bring it to my mouth and close my eyes, anticipating the amazing taste hitting my tongue. As I pull a chunk of lamb off the skewer with my teeth, I hear Ruby moan.
My eyes pop open, and I stare across the table at her.
Ruby’s eyes are closed as she chews her mango chicken. My lips curve up into a smile, and I slowly lower my kebab to the plate as I watch her chew. I start to ask her if she likes it when her eyes pop open and connect with mine.
“This is the best chicken I’ve ever had.”
I let out a bark of laughter, not because I think she’s funny, but because she’s absolutely adorable. I lean back in my chair, my stomach no longer demanding to be fed immediately.
I’m too entranced by her.
“I’m glad you like it,” I murmur.
She smiles, then something flashes in her gaze, but I can’t read it.
We continue eating, the conversation switching between her bakery and hockey.
I’m passionate about both topics, but as much as I enjoy hockey, I find her bakery and all the details surrounding it fascinating.
At least, until I’m full. Then, I am passionate about something else… dessert.