Page 7 of Her Possessive Valentine

And the more it will get, I’m sure.

“Not at all.” My voice sounds distant, no doubt a direct result of me still trying to pick my jaw up from the floor. “It’s perfect.”

“Good, because there’s a main event, but that one you’ll have to wait for.” He follows me inside and locks the door behind him. “Please, have a seat. I’ll grab the wine and dinner. I’d say I cooked it all myself, but that would be doing a great disservice to the fine folks at the restaurant I bought it from.”

He snickers, so do I.

“And what did these fine folks make for us?” I stroll through the romantic dreamscape he sprawled out for me. Drinking it all in and letting myself slip into the belief that this time has to be different.

“A meal of your choosing.” Vance follows until the end of the wall on our right opens into the kitchen. “Chicken, beef, pork, and lamb, with fries, roast veg, and some rice thing on the side. I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed a bit of everything.”

“Is now a good or bad time to tell you I’m a vegetarian?” I spin around and stare at him over the island separating the living room from the kitchen.

Vance stops dead in his tracks and stares at me like I just kicked him in the shins. “I didn’t think about that. Damn it. I can call them and get something prepared. It’s supposed to be your perfe?—”

“Vance, honey, I’m kidding.” I crinkle my nose at him alongside my best playful wink.

He sighs in relief, continuing on his way to grab wine glasses and a bottle of red. He brings them to the table and pours a healthyserving into each glass. We clink glasses and take a sip before he darts back into the kitchen to grab our dinner.

Vance brings two trays full of food out at first and goes back for another before he finally sits down.

“Don’t want to make you feel rushed,” he says once seated, “but I thought we could start with a meal. Get it out of the way.”

“Out of the way, huh?” I raise my glass to my lips.

“Okay, that came out wrong.” He does the same, drowning his embarrassment in the red liquid. “What I meant to say was, we can have dinner first so it doesn’t interrupt the rest of our activities.”

“That doesn’t sound much better.” I start giggling uncontrollably.

Either the wine’s gone straight to my head or Vance putting his foot in his mouth is too cute to contain my elation.

“I give up.” He slumps his shoulders and reaches for a spoon sticking out of the mysterious rice dish.

“You know you’re cute when you get flustered?” I ask, grabbing a serving of the roast veg.

“Cute or incredibly handsome and manly?” Both of our hands extend to the tongs resting beside the sliced chicken breasts.

Before either of us notices, our hands brush together, his on top of mine. They stay glued in that position far longer than they should, considering we’re supposed to be scooping out dinner. But neither of us seems to want it to end.

“I’m sorry,” Vance says and snatches his hand away, but the smile brimming on his face is enough to denounce that lie immediately. “Ladies first.”

“Or you could give me a hand.” I gulp at my own silly comment. It’s not like touching hands is anything risqué, so why do I feel like I’m being naughty?

It must be because I know what this hand-holding will lead to.

Vance’s eyes turn to my hand again, and without much thought, his snaps back on top of mine. With it, he helps me pick up a piece of the chicken on my plate first, then his own.

Yeah. If this is how it’s starting, we’re in for one hell of a treat tonight.

5

VANCE

Dinner done. Dishes cleared. One bottle of wine polished, and another cracked and getting worked on. Could this night get any better?

“I haven’t really had the best luck with dating. Or flirting. Or men at all, for that matter,” Hana answers my question of why someone so fucking stunning is still single.

And my God, stunning has to be an understatement, with her petite body and massive breasts squeezed into a skin-tight black cocktail dress. Half my night has been observing her perfect hourglass physique while the other half has been trying to stop myself from doing it.

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