“Well,” he begins, a smirk on his face.
“What is it?” I ask.
He takes my hand and leads me through a small hallway to what I instantly guess to be the kitchen. I guess this because the smell hits me as soon as I step foot in the hallway. And as I walk down the hallway, the smell gets stronger and stronger.
“My God!” I exclaim, taking a deep whiff. “What is that?”
We walk into the kitchen. It’s a small kitchen, but a busy one. There are two chefs, hard at work. Seeing us, they offer a brief nod before going back to work. I look over their shoulders, trying, but failing, to guess what they are making me.
“It’s grilled salmon,” Blake says, seeing my curiosity. “With avocado mango salad, coconut rice, a side salad and, for dessert, chocolate cake.”
My eyes bulge as he rattles off what we are going to be eating. “Seriously, Blake you didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, I did,” he smirks. “Are you hungry?”
“Suddenly, I am. I can’t imagine why?”
“Boys, how long?” He asks the two chefs.
“Five minutes,” one of them replies.
“Perfect!” Blake smiles. “Shall we?”
He holds his hand out for me. I take it without hesitation, and he leads me from the kitchen to the dining room.
The dining room table is already set, with a glass of Champagne waiting for me. I haven’t even touched the one currently clutched in my hand. I’ve been far too mesmerized by the night. I quickly drink it, finishing it before I reach the table. This allows for me to scoop up the next one.
“Professional,” Blake jokes as he watches me.
“Preparing for an upcoming dry spell,” I reply as I take a seat.
Blake joins me, and we engage in some light-hearted, not-too-serious banter as we wait for our food. The conversation is, as always, free flowing and natural. If it wasn’t for the fact that it is my first night in the house, I would assume that I was a regular.
The food is served exactly five minutes after we sit down, and it tastes just as good as it smells. In fact, I have to work hard to control myself from guzzling down everything put in front of me. So instead, I take small portions, allowing the flavors to work over my tongue. Never filling up, but always satisfied.
This is helped by the Champagne, too. I have one more glass before the food arrives and then another before I take my first bite. It is as I’m about to dig into the dessert that I suddenly become aware of how tipsy I am feeling.
It’s not on purpose. It’s just that in the moment, because of how nice the food and drink is, I have gotten a little carried away.
The only reassurance is that Blake appears to be feeling it as well, albeit, not as much as I am. Truth be told, I am feeling a little nervous. Tonight is the night that Blake and I are finally going to have sex. Although I have been looking forward to it with relish and desire, I am obviously a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be?
Hence, why I am drinking so freely. But either way, as I dig into the cake, trying not to moan over the taste as I finish it, I become aware of the way that Blake is looking at me. It’s a look of desire and temptation, and it can only mean one thing. He wants me.
Chapter 19
BLAKE
I may have overdone it slightly. I want to impress her and make her see what living here is going to be like. But I could see as soon as we walked through the door that I caught her by surprise.
Even before that, when we pulled up to the house, her mouth was hanging open in pure shock. I sometimes forget how intimidating this house and the gardens can be. I know I was like that when I first bought it.
But Carrie has cooled off significantly since then. I watch her pour herself another glass to drink, her cheeks flushing red and her smile increasing in warmth. She has clearly come around to the idea of staying here. She is far more comfortable now.
“So, tell me,” I say as I take a sip of my Champagne. “How was the food? The chefs will be hounding me later so I’d like some feedback for them.”
“Are you kidding?” She says excitedly. “It was incredible. Do you always eat like that?”
“Not always,” I say, smirking. “Only when I have company. Special company. I figured that you fit into the category nicely.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” she smiles to herself. “I suppose you don’t actually live here either, do you? You’ve just rented it out to try to impress me.”
“Shit,” I exclaim, and I slap my hand on the table. “You caught me. I really thought I had you fooled.”
“I’m not like other girls,” she says as she tilts her glass to me. “You have to get up pretty early to fool me.”