Page 70 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

“Bear’s are leftovers but don’t tell him. I hate wasting good meat.”

She tilted her head, lips pursed. “And ours?”

“Freshly prepared by my own hands. I hope you like it.”

“It’s so pretty I don’t want to eat it.”

Her smile made his heart stutter. He hoped to God he wasn’t blushing, but watching her take the first bite was a satisfying experience. Especially after she groaned with pleasure. He’d gone with the sea bass—one of his favorite fish dishes—and paired it with a light citrus sauce over a bed of mushroom risotto. Wilted spinach with garlic rounded out the plate. Devon struck him as a woman who enjoyed simple food cooked with fresh ingredients and big flavors.

“This is insane,” she said. “Sea bass is my favorite.”

“Me, too. You don’t eat meat, right?”

“No, I guess I’m technically a pescetarian because I eat some dairy, too.”

He took a sip of his wine. Bear had gobbled up the meat in one big gulp and had rolled onto his back to nap. “Is that for dietary or something else?”

She forked up some risotto and closed her eyes halfway as she swallowed.

He got hard immediately and had to shift in his seat. God, he loved a woman who knew how to enjoy food. “No, I was a bit traumatized in my teens. I was visiting my aunt and uncle in the Catskills and they had a farm. They taught me how to do some basic things, like collect eggs and even milk the cows. For some weird reason, I bonded with one of the turkeys.”

He peered over his glasses. “I’m afraid I know where this story may go.”

“Yep. I didn’t understand why he didn’t have a name so I called him Tom.”

His lip twitched. “Brilliantly original.”

“Now I’m not telling you the rest.”

She sipped her wine, those moss green eyes playfully challenging him. He wished he could lean over and kiss her, but she wasn’t his yet. Jameson wondered what it would feel like to have that right to hold her hand, kiss her lips, stroke her hair. “I apologize. I really want to hear the rest.”

“Okay, so I spent the week with Tom, having a blast. One afternoon, I went into town shopping, and when I came back, we had dinner. A turkey dinner.” A sad sigh escaped her. “And I ate a lot.”

A pang of sympathy hit him. “Was it good?”

She nodded reluctantly.

“When did you find out it was Tom?” he asked.

“I went looking for him the next morning. I searched for a while and then I ran to ask my uncle. Who told me quite calmly that we’d eaten him last night, and that’s what turkeys were for.”

He winced. “Brutal. He didn’t feel the need to lie?”

Devon’s fork scraped against the mostly empty plate. “He’s a farmer so he never thought it was a big deal. It was just his way of life. But I didn’t understand it at the time. I went hysterical and my parents decided to leave early because I was inconsolable. I vowed I’d never eat an animal again.”

He liked the way she backed up her thoughts with actions. It showed the type of person she was, one of conviction. “I think that’s really cool.”

Devon looked up. “Thanks. I have no problem with anyone around me eating meat, it’s my personal choice.”

“You’re okay with fish?”

She bit her lip. He wished he could have done that for her. “Kind of? I convince myself they don’t experience the same pain like land animals? But I loveThe Little Mermaidand Sebastian is my favorite character. I try to avoid crab.”

He laughed. “Duly noted. Did you like dinner?”

“It was perfect. Thank you, I feel so much better.” She relaxed back in her chair and sipped her wine. “How’d you learn to cook so well?”

“I always loved food, but I was raised in restaurants. My mom hated to cook so very early on I knew every good place in New York. The good news was she didn’t frequent fast food places. Instead, I got a great education from the local food trucks. I knew where to get the best bagels and pizza. I ate Chinese, Thai, Indian, Italian, and everything in between. Restaurants became my second home, and after my first job, I decided I needed to learn to cook.”

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