Page 33 of Promise Me Forever

Sitting backagainst my chair a little while later, I stifle a groan. “You were right, that is the best Thai food I’ve ever tasted.” I rub a hand over my full stomach. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“I told you.” His eyes scan the array of leftover food on his desk. I think he ordered half the menu. “You know you’ll have to take some of this home with you though?”

I shake my head. “No way. I’m so full I’ll literally burst if I eat any more.”

He rubs a hand down his beard and tilts his head, still looking at the half-full containers. “Feels kind of criminal to let all this go to waste.”

The aroma of the incredible Thai green curry I just devoured tickles my nostrils. He’s right; there’s enough here to feed another two people. “Good point. Actually, I will take it. My neighbor, Kris with a K, would love this stuff.”

His brow furrows. “Kris? With a K?”

My heart rate spikes. Why is he frowning like that? Has he had a bad experience with a Kris in the past? Does he have beef with the letter K? Or could it be that he thinks Kris is a guy, and he’s a tiny bit jealous? No. I’m definitely imagining that. He probably wants me to stay and work a bit longer, even though I think we’ve gotten everything straightened out.

“Yeah. That’s how she introduced herself the first time we met, and it kinda stuck—Kris with a K. She has two teenage boys who both eat like they have hollow legs. This will be a welcome treat. If you really mean it about me taking some home, that is?”

His expression softens again. “Of course. I remember being one of those boys with the hollow legs.”

“Yeah? What were you like as a teenager?”

“Hairy, hungry, and huge. Often also horny. Usual teenage boy stuff.”

“And your house would have been fit to burst with all that, given there were five of you. Your poor mom.”

He smiles, and the flicker of sadness in his eyes is quickly replaced by genuine pleasure. “Yeah. We were miscreants. A day never went by without incident. A broken window, thrown punches, playing football in the house. She pretended to be exasperated, but we all knew she kind of loved the chaos, you know? Being a mom was so natural to her. She always used to say that it was her career. She was the CEO of her boys.”

“That’s so sweet. And true—it’s hard work being a mother. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“Yeah. She was. I think I’m only just reaching the stage where I can speak about her, think about her, and remember the good times too, you know? I spent so long shutting her out.”

He’s helping me pack away the leftovers, and our hands accidentally touch on the desk. I quickly move my fingers and hope he doesn’t notice my reaction. “And I guess that meant you shut out the happy memories as well as the pain?”

“Exactly. So.” He steps back and clears his throat. “Thank you for a productive night, Miss Ryder.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. James. Thank you for the food. It really was fantastic. I love finding new places to eat.”

“The Rice House makes the best food in the entire Tri-State area. I mean, it’s no Waffle House, but I only ever got that once a year or so when I would drive back to visit from Chicago.” His hangdog expression looks so genuine, I almost feel bad for him. “I guess that’s a thing of the past now.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. James.” I smirk, feeling mischievous again. “I mean I haven’t sampledallthe food on offer in the Tri-State area, and I have no idea what Waffle House is, but I don’t have to. I already know the best of the best—in the world—comes from Mario’s in Brooklyn.”

His dark brown eyes narrow. “Mario’s?”

“Mario’s,” I repeat firmly. “And his exploding donut balls.”

Drake coughs like he’s choking on fresh air. “His what now?” he finally manages to say.

His unguarded reaction makes me giggle. Between the banter about food and him opening up about his mom, I’m reminded of the first night we met, when we were Charlie and Scarlet and nothing was off-limits. “His exploding donut balls. Trust me, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried them. They are delicious.” Closing my eyes, I kiss my fingertips as if I’m the chef of a Michelin-star restaurant declaring perfection. “Light and crispy on the outside, all sugary and hot, but when you pop themin your mouth and bite…” I lick my lips and moan. “It’s like an explosion of sweet, heavenly cream in your mouth.”

He stares at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. The heat of his gaze blisters my skin, and a flush creeps over my cheeks.

“What?” I whisper.

The air in the room seems to shift, suddenly full of crackling electricity that buzzes over my skin and makes my pulse spike. Drake’s eyes bore into mine for a few seconds longer before he looks away. “Nothing,” he says. “Carry on.”

Nothing? That wasn’t nothing. The man looked at me like he wanted to throw me out of his office, and all I was doing was talking about donuts. But he said to carry on, so I do. “They’re like heaven in pastry form. But you have to eat them straight away, while they’re hot and fresh, and I’m pretty sure you don’t travel to my neighborhood very often.” My nerves cause me to retreat into the safe haven of blabbering about nothing at all important. “Which is probably a good thing, really.”

“Oh? And why is that, Miss Ryder?” He’s finished loading the takeout containers into the bag and is staring at me intensely. Jeez. This man is really passionate about donuts.

The heat from my cheeks races down my neck. I even feel like my internal organs are blushing. Nobody could withstand Drake James’s laser eyes, and I almost feel sorry for the people who have to face him in court.

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