Page 53 of Stolen Dreams

And if I’m lucky enough for a repeat, maybe I won’t need cooking classes. Ray can teach me personally.

I initially brushed off our fancy date night dinner as Ray trying to impress me, but I know that’s not entirely true. Every time he steps inside a kitchen, his love for food comes to life.

Was he pulling out all the stops Sunday night? Of course. It was a date.

Did he cook outside his wheelhouse? I doubt such a thing exists for Ray.

Wonder what he’d think of my family’s dishes. Intrigued and curious, I imagine. Eager to learn more.

“Hey, Fire Eyes,” Ray whispers as he squeezes a chair in on my right and sits. His warm, brown eyes meet mine for a breath, then shift to Tucker on my left. “Hey, T-Man. How’s the pizza?”

“Soooo good.” He stares at the pizza and moans. “Wehaveto make this at home.”

“Yeah?” Ray asks, and Tucker nods vigorously as she takes a massive bite. “What about the pancakes a couple days ago?” Ray takes a bite of his own pizza.

“Mm-hmm.” Tucker swallows his bite then washes it down with juice. “Those were like dessert for breakfast.” His expression turns dreamy as he licks his lips.

A heart of pure gold, Tucker is one of the cutest kids I’ve met.

Ray leans into me and I still, fever blanketing my skin. Beneath the table, his leg presses the length of mine with no promise of retreat. Such a simple move, but it makes me dizzy.

Dropping my chin, I try to hide my dopey smile. Mask the inferno flaming my face. I inhale—one, two, three—and exhale—three, two, one—to steady my erratic pulse while every nerve ending in my body lights and sparks like a chain of firecrackers. Clutching my napkin, I fight the urge to drop my hand beneath the table and touch him.

His leg is magnetized to mine the entire time we eat. Tucker asks what the class is making tomorrow, and Ray rattles off the menu. When a groove forms between Tucker’s brows, Ray translates it to Tucker terms.

“Remember the pizza I made with the creamy green sauce?”

Tucker nods.

“It’s kind of like that, but a breakfast pie version.”

Tucker’s eyes narrow as if he’s trying to picture it. Then he shrugs and resumes eating. When Tucker’s plate empties, Ray asks him and the other two kids at the table to help clear plates and wipe down tables. With a playful roll of his eyes, followed by a half-hearted groan, Tucker slides out of his chair and takes his plate, mine, and Ray’s to the dirty dish bin. The others at our table get to work without complaint.

Ray opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “I need to get to the rec center before the other counselors rip out their hair.”

Checking his watch, he chuckles. “Thought my days were busy.”

Scooting my chair back, I rise and start unbuttoning my coat. Ray unabashedly stares at my fingers as each button pops free. And when I reach the last one, his gaze meets mine. I don’t miss the fire in his dark eyes. The hint of amber around his pupils. The luminous spark that makes me a little dizzy.

I shoulder my bag and drape my coat over my arm. Walk to the door on slow, reluctant feet. Drag out leaving just to have a few more minutes with him. To get another hit of his heated gaze, addictive charm, and hypnotic energy.

“I’ll walk you out.” He offers this every day, and not once have I declined.

“Thank you.”

“T-Man,” he calls across the room. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Tucker nods then goes back to chatting with the other kids.

As Ray opens the door for me, a young woman steps back in surprise on the other side. She flashes me a welcoming smile that falters when her attention shifts to Ray. A faint blush colors her cheeks as she squirms in place.

“Hi, Chef,” she says, a slight squeak in her voice.

“Hey, Cameron. The kids are still cleaning up.” He jerks his head over his shoulder. “Mind giving them a hand?”

“Sh-sure.” She smooths her hands over her coat in an attempt to compose herself. “I take it the pizza was a hit.”

“It was. Thanks for the suggestion.”

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