Page 42 of Blood Bonds

I also couldn’t help the way that thought made me feel, along with every time he called me Firefly. Ironic really, considering it felt as if my belly was full of them whenever he touched me.

A little after this the courses started to come out. With each one, he explained to me its origins, showing me he was obviously passionate about his homeland.

“These are called Dolma, which translates as stuffed in Turkish.”

“Turkish? But I thought we were eating Greek?” I asked, referring to the delicious mixture of rice and meat wrapped in some kind of boiled leaf.

“It is a common dish where I am from, in fact, in Ancient Greek cuisine, fig leaves were stuffed with sweetened cheese or lard, flour, milk, and egg before being cooked in honey water, but they were called Thrion,” he told me, and I was both fascinated and surprised by him having such knowledge on the topic.

To look at him, I wouldn’t have thought he would have such an interest in historic recipes, but more like someonewho watched the stock market and was all about crunching the numbers. Which was why I couldn’t help but ask,

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged his large shoulders and said, “My mother used to make them.” This before then casually taking a drink of his wine.

“She doesn’t anymore?” I asked in between bites.

His jawline hardened and I wasn’t surprised when he told me,

“No, not anymore. Not for a long time now.”

Of course, I knew what that meant, but neither of us wanted to say the word deceased.

“Well, they are delicious,” I told him, hoping to break the sadness and once again, I was reward with his grin.

“I am glad you like them.”

“Although if this means I have to make you a Philly Cheesesteak then I am afraid you might be left disappointed.”

His smile never left him as he asked, “Why is that?”

“I am not the best cook and could pretty much burn boiling water.”

He laughed and before I knew it, he rose from his seat and moved it, so it was next to mine. I was shocked he did this and I looked around the rest of the restaurant to check no one was staring at us. Thankfully, they weren’t. It was almost like they knew that they shouldn’t.

“I can teach you, if you’d like?” he asked, shocking me further.

“You know how to cook?”

“You seem surprised,” was his answer.

Quite honestly, I wasn’t just surprised but I was astounded because now I just had images of him bare foot in the kitchen, wearing jeans and nothing else but an apron, whisking up a treat. It was a great image.

No, it was afuckinggreat image.

“Well, it keeps happening around you because you constantly surprise me.”

He leaned in close, until he was stroking the hair back from my ear so he could put his lips there instead, whispering a sweet promise.

“Then let’s hope one of them leaves you breathless, for I can’t wait to get you alone, so as I may surprise you further.”

I sucked in a quick breath and instead of saying something just as sensual back, I did what I always did… I went with humor as a coping mechanism.

“Why? Are you gonna pull a rabbit out your pants?”

He suddenly threw his head back and laughed, so much so, that this time people did look. But they did so in a way that acted like they were utterly stunned. As if they knew this man and had never experienced the emotion before.

“Fuck, but I adore how you make me laugh,” he admitted.

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