Page 52 of A Sudden Romance

“With your parents dying while you were so young, I wondered if they influenced your decision to learn?”

“Nah. I just felt like learning the guitar. It was the first thing I bought with my first paycheck.” He rolled his shoulders, one side of his sensual mouth quirking. “I took free YouTube lessons.”

Their server brought their waters and offered to take their orders. They hadn’t even had time to look at the menu.

She wasn’t familiar with Portuguese food. The only foreign food she’d eaten besides Italian was Chinese and the Greek food Sabastian cooked.

When he’d asked what she felt like eating that night and she’d told him to surprise her, hence the Portuguese restaurant. The owner was a friend of his from church.

Iris reached for the menu. Although she could see chicken, she didn’t trust herself to order the right meal with so many unfamiliar dishes.

The prices were high, and she didn’t want him using up his restaurant savings on her. She closed the menu and tucked it aside. “You’re the chef. I’ll let you order for me.”

“Okay.” With a firm nod, he addressed the server. “We’ll have the chef’s feast and sweet potato hash.”

The music changed, some kind of folk-dance music with a cheerful fiddle. She could easily imagine the country’s local people keeping old-time traditions alive as they kicked up their feet to the tune. With his parents dying when he was young, did he remember his family traditions? Suddenly somber despite the joyful music, she toyed with her water as they waited for their food. “What kind of restaurant did your dad have?”

“A Greek restaurant.” He captured her water glass and set it aside, then grasped her hands, holding them firm. As his thumb traced circles along her palm, warmth rushed through her.

“Have you ever entertained the idea of opening a Greek restaurant in Pleasant View?” Surely, the town didn’t already have a Greek restaurant? While a small town, Pleasant View drew in plenty of tourists, especially in the winter for the ski season and in the summer for all the artsy activities.

“I always wanted to be a chef because that’s all I knew. When I was a kid, I envisioned starting my own Greek restaurant someday. But since I’ve been cooking on my own... well, I like cooking a variety of meals, mixing things up. I don’t think I could ever limit myself or stop experimenting with foods and flavors.”

“Because you’re an artist.” Needing to take a drink, she eased one of her hands out of his and stirred the straw in her water. The ice clinked against the glass. “It makes sense that you want to create variety rather than getting tied down to cooking one thing.”

Scratching his stubble, he smiled. “It means a lot that you believe in me.”

“It’s easy to believe in you.” She took a sip. “Not only are you honest and dedicated but also you’re talented at what you do.”

He cocked his head at her, hazel glints shining in his eyes.

And she held up a finger to forestall whatever he was thinking. “I’m not saying that because of, well because of this.” She waved between them, not sure she was ready to put a name on what was going on between them, on how she felt about him. How she was falling harder for him with each passing day. “I’ve always said you’re the best chef. Everyone knows that.”

But he was shaking his head, his shy smile enticing her. Would his kisses be just that sweet and shy? “That’s not what I was thinking. How do you know I’m honest?”

“I’m a good judge of character.”

He sat back, his whole body stiffening. “So, you think I can pull off the televised cooking show if I get selected?”

“You’ll get selected.” Unless they’d already selected enough people. “Your food is very flavorful—the best I’ve had, and I mean that. If you’re nervous, just remember all the other chefs are new like you.”

“I’m kind of scared to start somewhere new, but I’m also ready to try something else.”

Apparently, her parents had always championed for him to spread out his wings if he ever wanted to, but he’d claimed he preferred to stay, which was fine—if that was what he wanted. “If you’re not ready to go on adventures, that’s okay too.” Not everyone wanted to try different things like she did. “My parents won’t complain if you stay at The Peak forever.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed his lips, and reached for his water.

The server showed up with a tray of steaming plates.

Sabastian prayed for their food, thanking God for giving him this opportunity with her, and his prayer, so thoughtful and sincere, squeezed around her heart like a warm hug.

After their collective amen, she waited for him to make eye contact. “Thank you, Sabastian, for that sweet prayer.”

“This is a dream come true.” He pointed to the four plates on their table, the chef’s feast she assumed. “I love this. That you’re here. With me.”

“There’s no other place I’d rather be.” She spread her napkin on her lap.

Soaked in rich flavors, the chicken was almost as good as Sabastian’s, but it was cooked differently. Besides the sweet potato hash, the pickled onions, cauliflower, and garlic served with the chef’s feast were great complements to the other ingredients. Sabastian raved about the croquettes while she was slow at adjusting to the deep-fried roll.

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