Page 42 of Twilight Sins

“There is no catch.”

At least, not one I can figure out.

The idea rammed itself into my head when Luna was on the phone with Kayla yesterday. Kayla was yammering on about how Luna shouldn’t give up on dating. How she needed to keep looking until she found the right guy for her.

Then I saw Luna’s face and everything clicked.

Luna wasn’t upset that Kayla kept setting her up on dates; she was made that Kayla kept setting her up on bad dates.

Luna wants the kind of boring, basic, nice guy Kayla described… She just doesn’t think he exists.

Fuck knows I’m not that man. I know it. Luna knows it. But I’m not even sure she’d know how to recognize that kind of man if he walked through the door right now with flowers and a box of heart-shaped chocolates.

So I’m showing Luna what she wants. I won’t fall in love with her, but I can show her what it should look like.

She runs her hand along the back of the chair like she’s checking for a detonation switch. “I just don’t see what you get out of this. It feels like a trap.”

“If I wanted to trap you, I wouldn’t need a diversion.” I grab her hand and coax her down into the chair. “I’m more than capable of getting you to do what I want.”

She yanks her hand away and folds it in her lap. “Right. The same way you get everything you want. By force. I remember.”

“Not everything.” I shrug. “Plenty of things come to me willingly.”

She holds my gaze for a second, stunned, before looking away nervously. Before either of us can say anything else, the kitchen doors open and the food is brought out.

Luna’s stunned expression only grows as her meal is placed in front of her. “Did you make this?”

“I must have made some good breakfast if you think I’m suddenly searing scallions and serving up perfectly cooked wagyu ribeye.”

“At this point, nothing about you would surprise me,” she mumbles.

I snort. I highly doubt that. There are things she doesn’t know about me that would singe her pretty little eyebrows right off her face.

“I called in a favor with a friend,” I explain begrudgingly.

“That is exactly what I’m talking about. Who has friends who are world-class chefs?”

“I don’t waste my time on mediocre people.”

She could read more into that if she wants, but a distraction comes along in the form of wine, fresh fruit, and warm focaccia with a honey drizzle. I finalized the menu this morning, but even I have to admit that it does look excessive now that it’s spread out in front of us.

Luna stares at the table and slowly shakes her head. “You did all of this for… for me?”

Yes. And I’m not even trying to take you to bed. Make that make sense.

I drag a scallion around the plate, gathering herbs and butter. “I have to eat, too.”

“We’ve eaten together before. I know what that looks like. It isn’t this.” She turns to me, brows creased in worry. “Is something wrong?”

“Everything is fine.”

She gestures to the bread plate. “There’s, like, four courses in front of us. I’m trying to figure out why you’re trying to butter me up. Literally.”

I drag a hand through my hair, scowling. “For fuck’s sake. I’ve never regretted something so fast in my life.”

Some way or another, I always live to regret being nice.

“What did you say?” she asks, an edge of panic creeping into her voice. “If something is wrong, just talk to me. You don’t have to do all of this. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

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