Page 30 of Pro Gamer's Aim

Sam rises gracefully, snatching the ball and hurling it across the yard. Milo yips and dashes after it, tongue lolling.

I watch, amused, as the mutt skids to a halt and spins in a circle, clearly having lost the ball's location. He sniffs the ground intently, tail wagging.

"How has that dog survived this long?" I ask.

Sam laughs, shaking her head. "Honestly, I baby him a lot. But I can't help it. I love the little doofus, even if he's only got two brain cells to rub together."

I chuckle. It fits her.

Sam stands by the table, and her brows knit together. "Um, Asher—is this it? Just steak?"

I blink at her, nonplussed. The hell's wrong with steak? "Yeah?"

She bursts out laughing, the sound rich and warm. "Okay. Yeah, I'm going to have to introduce you to a few vegetables. You can't just eat meat and nothing else."

I huff. "Sometimes I bake potatoes, too."

"Oh, well excuse me. Didn't realize I was dealing with a regular chef here." Her eyes sparkle with mirth.

I narrow my gaze at her. "Watch it, bunny. I might rescind your steak privileges."

She laughs. "I don't think you'd dare."

"Try me."

She purses her lips, fighting a smile. Damn, she's cute when she's trying to be stern. Makes me want to kiss that pout right off her face.

"Tell you what," she says, stepping closer. "Let me worry about the veggies next time. I promise I'll make them so delicious, even a carnivore like you will be impressed."

I arch a brow, even as I loop my arms around her waist. She's so tiny. So delicate. I should really remember that when I turn into a beast. "That so?"

"Mhmm." She trails a finger down my chest, peering up at me through her lashes. "I'm very good with... produce."

Fuck. The heated promise in her gaze shoots straight to my cock. I clear my throat roughly. "I'll hold you to that."

She winks. "You do that." Then she saunters over to the table, putting an extra sway in her hips because she knows I'm watching. Minx.

I adjust myself discreetly and follow, determined to get my head out of the gutter. For now.

Milo chooses that moment to return, ball clamped triumphantly between his teeth. He drops it at Sam's feet and sits, tail thumping the ground.

"Good job, buddy!" Sam ruffles his ears. "You're so clever, yes you are."

I snort. Cleverness is not a word I'd associate with that dog. But hey, whatever makes her happy.

We settle at the table, the savory aroma of steak wafting between us. I have to admit, even though it's simple, the meal looks damn good to me. Perfectly seared meat, juicy and tender.

Sam cuts into hers and takes a bite, eyes drifting shut as she moans appreciatively. "Oh my god. Asher, this is incredible."

I preen a bit at the compliment, watching her pink lips close around the fork. I wonder what other noises I could coax out of her with my cooking. Among other things.

Down boy. I slice into my own steak, focusing on the task. The first bite nearly makes me groan. Smoky, with just the right amount of char. Damn, I'm good. Nothing beats charcoal. Fuck those fancy propane grills.

We eat in comfortable silence for a bit, punctuated by the clink of silverware and Milo's hopeful whines. Sam slips him a small piece of steak, and I pretend not to notice. Softy.

"So," she says after a while, setting her fork down. "Tell me more about this influencer thing. You really think it could help your company?"

I lean back in my chair, considering. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It's a new angle, one I hadn't really considered before. It's becoming more common for a lot of these games, though. The advertising potential is there."

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