Page 36 of Smolder

“Good?” he asked.

I giggled and nodded my head, setting the glass down. “Not the right word. I could drink the entire bottle.” Not that I would. One glass was going to be my limit.

He grinned and reached for the bread, tearing off a piece and then dipping it into the seasoned oil before holding it out to me. “She makes this from scratch. Both the bread and the oil.”

I needed a Minna in my life. I took it from him. “If you watch me eat this, I won’t be able to enjoy it properly.”

He tore off another piece, then soaked it in the dip before putting it into his mouth and taking a bite. I watched his jaw as he chewed and the way his muscle flexed in his neck. God, that was nice to look at.

Realizing I was gawking at him, I quickly looked down at my plate and took a bite of my bread, feeling my face grow warm. I was out of my depth with this man. He was much too worldly, sexy, and sophisticated for me to handle. I was going to mess it up. He would never be able to take me out in public.

“Relax, Royal. It’s just me and you. Whatever has you all tense, stop thinking about it. Enjoy the meal,” he told me.

I looked up at him. “Sorry. I’ll try.”

He picked up his fork and twirled the noodles with it. “What’s your favorite type of music?” he asked.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

“What?” A curious gleam sparked in his eyes.

“Fine. But you’re gonna laugh.”

“Never.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Classic country,” I admitted.

“What’s wrong with that? George Strait is a king.”

I shook my head. “No.Classiccountry. As in George Jones, Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Hank Williams Senior, not Junior.”

His eyes widened. “So,classic, classic,” he said. “And you’re almost twenty-one. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Grams loves them all. She has at least a hundred albums. I grew up listening to them. I didn’t hear other music until I was older. Whenever I hear ‘You Ain’t Woman Enough,’ I can still see Grams holding her wooden spoon in the kitchen, singing it like she wrote it.”

Feeling a real smile stretch across my face, I realized my shoulders weren’t tense anymore, and I wasn’t battling with my lack of self-confidence. Amory was giving me an odd look. As if he didn’t recognize me or was confused. That made me laugh.

“What?” I asked, amused.

His gaze softened. “Nothing. I just like listening to you talk. Hearing about your life.”

This man was going to ruin me for all the others.

•Fourteen •

“Life isn’t a fairy tale, Royal.”

Sebastian

This was not what my father had been thinking when he set his plan in motion. He’d taken over and used me like a damn puppet on a string. It had worked. The way Royal was looking at me right now, she was feeling something. And I fucking liked it. I wanted it. But knowing it had all been manipulated meant this wasn’t real. Whatever it was she thought she felt for me was because my father had spoon-fed it to her.

Dinner had been fun. I found myself enjoying her laugh, feeling warm shit in my chest when she smiled at me. I wasn’t so sure the family was right about her. There were facts, and then there was speculation. What we thought fit. But they didn’t know her. They hadn’t sat and listened to her talk about her Grams or tell stories of her childhood. She was a hustler, swindler, whatever you wanted to label it, but it was how she survived. I could respect that. Hell, I’d done much worse.

She let out a squeal and jumped when a rabbit crossed in front of our path. I pulled her against my side with my arm over her shoulders.

“Easy, Ace. It’s just a bunny. Last time I checked, those aren’t killer around these parts,” I teased.

“You never know.”

---