Page 81 of Let Me Say It Again

When he didn’t say anything else, I asked, “Is this how you wine and dine all the girls?” honestly curious about his answer.

“Send my chef home, so I can cook a romantic dinner for two? No.”

Was there a hidden camera in this place? Was I being screwed with? Did Red just use the words romantic dinner with me? Was he getting all sappy on me? It was both sweet and terrifying.

I tapped my fingertips on the counter and said the first thing that popped into my head, knowing it was neither swoony nor romantic. It was sarcastic, just the way I liked it. “Aw. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Cocking a brow, Red angled his head as if he didn’t buy it.

“You know restaurants are a thing for a reason,” I tried next.

“Yes, but at home we don’t have to worry about appearances.” He got a dish from the cabinet and lifted the lid off another pot.

“But—”

“Not hungry?” he asked, starting to scoop out what looked like raviolis.

I would’ve said I wasn’t, but my stomach had terrible timing, growling before I could get the lie out. My stomach was a traitor.

“Why don’t you quit arguing and pretending like this isn’t exactly what you wanted and sit down and eat?” The commandcaused my heart to lurch. My palms grew sweaty, and my pulse quickened. I’d be damned, but he was turning me on right now.

I was so fucked when it came to Red. So, instead of fighting it, for the first time in my life, I shut my mouth and did as asked, walking out of the kitchen and into the dining room where I pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Soft, classical music was playing, so I closed my eyes for a beat to soak it all up.

He joined me not seconds later.

“I’m surprised,” I noted, licking my lips and inhaling because the smell of dinner was like heaven on earth. The cheese. The sauce. I mean, come on, it was like I’d died and went straight to heaven. Seriously.

“I thought we established that.” He placed two serving dishes on the table. “But you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he said and walked out.

Ain’t?What happened to Red? The Red I knew?

Returning, he held a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. “I did get you these. I just forgot.”

They were beautiful, and as he passed them to me, I couldn’t help but be predictable and stick my nose in them, sniffing. Flowers had a way of smelling like everything was going to be okay. Did that make sense?

“Thank you,” I replied, my fingers playing with the petals of a few of them.

“You’re welcome.” Then he held his hand back out. “Here. Give them to me, and I’ll put them in water.”

“Are you sure? I can—”

He pinned me down with a stare that could have easily made my knees buckle had I been standing. “Jade,” he warned, his voice rough and demanding with that one syllable word.

Him saying my name was all it took for me to nod and hand them over, grateful that he was doing this all for me.

I wasn’t one for dates, but if this was what a date with Red looked like, then I was screwed. Something told me that no date ever again would be as special as this one because it wouldn’t be with Red.

When he got back to the table, he pulled out the chair next to me and stood at the table, serving me. Ravioli with tomato sauce first. Then—

“Pancetta wrapped asparagus,” he explained.

“It all smells so good.”

Smiling, he pivoted and pulled the bottle of red wine that sat off to the side and poured some in my glass.

“I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” Red sat down next to me, and I felt butterflies. This was all too much. It was too incredibly sweet. Romantic, really. “Please, eat.” He gestured to me and the plate in front of me.

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