And then there were his eyes.
She’d never understood the phrase ‘drown in his eyes’ until she was able to feast on the sight of his. They were the most perfect shade of midnight blue. The sound of the restaurant beyond the curtains might as well have been miles away for all that it failed to intrude on their intimate tête-à-tête.
“If I forget to mention it later,” she murmured, “I think this is my favorite birthday.”
He grinned and her pulse thudded. “We’ve just gotten started, don’t give away the prize until the mission is complete.”
Laughter bubbled up and she took another spoonful of soup, her gaze skating over to watch his hands as he began to eat. His expression was neutral as he sampled the flavors.
“It’s not quite perfect. I think we should have added the Idaho potatoes later.”
“I think it’s wonderful. But now I am very curious.”
“And what are you curious about?”
“You know so much about food and you obviously enjoy it, but why a restaurant? There’s so much more to running a restaurant than just the food.” She’d seen the unfortunate results of what happened of creative passion overwhelmed by the demands of running a business. It wore a person down. In at least two cases, she’d seen those same passionate people lose their appetites for creating altogether because the work of ownership carried too much pressure.
“My mother was passionate about food. She believed in the family table, the breaking of bread and the joy of serving. Every Sunday, we came home from church and she’d serve food, the neighbors came over, and brought dishes with them. You could always find food at our house. Saturday nights were always about the preparation. It was a party to stand in the kitchen, sampling the different flavors, putting together the combinations. Even when the steel factory layoffs came and Dad was out of work, she could turn potato and leek soup into an experience. ‘Damon,’ she would say, ‘food is for the soul. Your belly only thinks it is in charge. Never let hunger determine your meal.’”
“That sounds amazing.” Her parents favored microwaveable meals in front of the television or she ate at her desk in her room as she pored over her books. They’d never dragged her away to experience a meal, often as not, leaving her to study when they went out to meals and bringing her back some take out. “I can’t imagine spending hours cooking. My culinary skills extend to opening a pot pie box and nuking it for five minutes.”
“And why don’t you cook?”
“You think all women know how to cook?”
“Absolutely not. One of the women in my unit burns water and a buddy of mine pays his wife not to cook because he’s had food poisoning twice.” His quick grin lit her own and she couldn’t help the laughter.
“That’s awful.”
“But true. So no, I don’t expect a woman to know how to cook. But why didn’t you learn?”
She glanced down at the nearly empty bread bowl and wondered if it would be impolite to begin to nibble on the soup-soaked bread. As though reading her mind, he reached over and tore off an edge, drenched it in the creamy bottom and held it up to her lips.
She caught his gaze as she took the offered bite, her tongue just barely grazing his finger, but he didn’t pull away, instead, catching a stray drop sliding over her lower lip and offered it to her. Boldness flooded through her and she drew his finger into her mouth until she cleaned off the drop.
“You were saying?” The hint of teasing drifted along the thick undertones of his voice and she sighed.
Yep. No matter how this evening ended, it was definitely the best birthday ever.
“I was something of a prodigy when I was younger. By the time I was seven, my parents had to enroll me in a private school and I skipped several grades. By the time I was twelve, they hired a private tutor because I was a freshman in high school. I graduated at sixteen, but only because my mother was reluctant to allow me to graduate at fifteen. I finished my Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice at nineteen and law school a month before my twenty-second birthday. I’ve been an associate at my law firm since then, and I just got offered partner last week. I haven’t had time to look at anything except books or legal briefs.”
His expression dimmed at her sigh and she fought for a smile.
“I’m whining and I’m aware of that. I never really paid attention to anything else, it’s not that I was denied the opportunities, I was just….”
“You were focused. You had an objective. I get it. I skipped the college experience. Went straight into the Corps the day after I graduated high school. Family tradition. My grandfather, my father. My great-grandfather was a Navy man. My uncle was in the Army, and I have a kid brother who went Air Force, something about liking to play with his stick.”