Page 24 of Playing with Desire

“You two kids have a nice lunch,” Paige said as she joined them out in the main area of the store.

“We will,” Declan replied before Summer could.

As he took her hand, they walked outside, and it occurred to him that he had no idea what kind of food was in the area or what she was in the mood for.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

She pointed down the street. “There’s a small café on the corner that has everything from burgers to salads. It’s close by, so we don’t have to spend time driving anywhere.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They strolled in that direction, and a few minutes later, they arrived at a quaint restaurant. Summer opted for a table outside beneath an awning and out of the direct sunlight, and once they’d ordered their drinks and meal, Declan took a sip of his diet soda and leaned back in his chair.

“Paige has a very interesting line of business,” he commented.

“A verysuccessfulbusiness,” she clarified with a grin. “It started out as just a small made-to-order shop for corsets and is quickly becoming one of those recognizable brand names for beautiful, sexy lingerie. Her internet orders are insane, and we can barely keep up with custom orders, even with a few extra seamstresses helping out.”

“Is that what you are?” he asked curiously, not clear on what her job description was. “A seamstress?”

Smiling, Summer swirled her straw around in her iced tea. “I’m like Paige’s right-hand woman and I do a little bit of everything. Selling product. Handling merchandising. Designing new things with Paige’s input. I sew, do most of the alterations, and stitch the beadwork on custom orders, sometimes until my fingers want to fall off. The list goes on,” she added with a laugh.

Even though it sounded like she had a lot of duties, she listed them all with a joyous sparkle in her eyes. “You enjoy your job.”

“I do,” she agreed.

The waitress came by and delivered their orders—a club panini for Summer and a brisket and bacon burger for himself—and they settled in for a few bites of the delicious food.

“How did you learn to sew?” Declan asked, keeping up the line of questioning because he liked discovering all these fascinating nuances about her, which was quite an anomaly for him considering he normally kept his interactions with women superficial and physical. Yet here he was, wanting to soak up everything about this beautiful, sweet woman so he could store it all away to remember later.

“My grandma Mimi taught me,” she said after swallowing a bite of her sandwich. “I already told you that she raised me, and financially she didn’t have much, so she was great at improvising. She’d take me to the fabric store, where we’d buy remnants of material that were on clearance, then take them home and we’d make something together for me or my dolls. By the time I was twelve, I knew how to make dresses and tops and pants with my own patterns.”

He licked a smear of barbeque sauce from his thumb, almost halfway done with his burger. “What else did your grandma teach you?”

“Hmm, let’s see.” A fond smile touched her lips, while a light breeze ruffled through her soft-looking hair. “I learned how to knit, and I made over two dozen scarfs and blankets that we ended up donating to a homeless shelter. She taught me all about gardening and how to nurture plants and flowers. She introduced me to my love of reading with frequent trips to the library. And most importantly, she taught me manners,” she added ruefully.

He chuckled. “Yes, manners are always important.”

She finished one portion of her panini and picked up the other half to eat. “Mimi was a big believer in the Golden Rule and treating people fairly and with respect. And to always be kind to someone, even if they were grumpy or grouchy, because you never know what they’re going through to make them that way.”

He saw all those generous traits in Summer. She was so bright and cheerful with a positive attitude, despite growing up with a mother who’d chosen drugs over her own daughter. She was a ray of sunshine, when Declan was used to a world that was dark and dangerous, where any kind of altruistic gesture could get you killed. Where you were always on guard and mostly saw the worst of humanity.

“Oh, and cooking!” Summer’s enthusiastic tone pulled Declan from his dark thoughts, which he was grateful for, because sometimes he fell into that black hole and found it difficult to climb his way back out. “Oh, my God, Mimi was a fantastic cook. She made most of our meals from scratch and then would take things like leftovers from a few meals and create this delicious dinner that was so good. She’d always tell me that someday I was going to have a husband, and the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, so I needed to learn to be a good cook.” She rolled her eyes at that. “Not that I ever believed my cooking would make a man fall in love with me.”

Finished with his burger, he wiped his fingers on his napkin and took a drink of his soda. “I’m inclined to side with your grandmother on this one. Men are basic creatures. Good food, hot sex...” He shrugged playfully. “Those two things alone would make me averyhappy man.”

She cast a flirty grin his way. “So, I think we already agreed on the hot sex part,” she murmured in a low voice in deference to the other customers sitting outside with them. “Do we need to make an addendum to that deal and add home-cooked meals to the arrangement?”

“I think we should,” he teased, then found himself admitting something more personal. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal. I’m used to military chow halls and MREs when I’m on a mission, and when I’m home, it’s mostly fast food or restaurants, and it’s just not the same as when I was growing up and my mother made me my favorite things to eat.”

She pushed her nearly empty plate to the side, her pretty features softening. “If I were to make you something for a dinner, what would you like? What is one of the things your mother made for you or the family that you absolutely loved and haven’t had in forever?”

“Pork chops,” he said automatically. “With mashed potatoes and gravy.” He groaned at the thought, even though he was full after eating his lunch. “Chicken and dumplings. Country fried steak. So many things it’s hard to choose.”

She drank the last of her iced tea and sat back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “I have an idea. While you’re home for the next few weeks, let me make you some of the dinners that you can’t get while you’re overseas.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, even as a little voice inside his head contradicted that statement.

“I want to.” She lifted her chin a few inches, letting him know that she’d made up her mind and wasn’t going to change it. “I’m used to fast food and microwave meals, too, since I live alone. I never cook anymore because I don’t have the space in the kitchen in my tiny studio apartment, and it’s silly to make a big, elaborate meal for one person, so I’d love to make a few dinners and share them with you.”

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