We both picked up our burgers to take the first bite. Then I watched him, sucking on my bottom lip, as he tasted his food. He let out a sigh, and I hoped it was in contentment.
“So, how’s the burger?” I asked.
He smiled. “Better than I thought it would be. Do they need more customers to earn the money for the roof?”
My skin prickled. Not everyone took generosity from strangers like me taking a job without an application, sweat, and tears. If he sent money, the owners might be upset. Heat rushed through me. “Yeah.”
He nodded. “I’ll help.”
I pushed my hair behind my ears and wished I were comfortable. “They’re not likely looking for a handout.”
He shrugged. “That’s not what I’m offering. I write a food blog.”
Interesting. We both ate in silence. Gerard was serious about food.
I’d been vulnerable with him since we met, and he’d never taken advantage of me. Since that first moment, and even that morning in the ship, he had been sweet. I’d forgotten people might be straight-up nice, but my heart whispered there was more to it. “I never would have guessed that. But then again, I’m sure you only eat at five-star restaurants.”
He finished his burger and wiped his lips. “I will go down to three.”
I finished my plate as well, cleaned up, and sat back. “Sometimes, I wish food bloggers focused on small, local dives with delicious meals, like this one.”
He folded his hands on the table. “Can you write pretty clean?”
I narrowed my gaze and mimicked his body language. “Writing can be dirty?”
His lips quirked up. “I mean, how are your basic writing skills?”
The forgotten art I’d enjoyed. I lowered my lashes, as bragging wasn’t good. “I used to get As in high school. It was pretty easy to fake that I knew stuff on essays.”
He nodded. “Well, let’s set up an account for you on our world tour. You can write about all the places you eat, and you’ll be my guest blogger.”
Blog? About food?It would be something to do at sea. “Sounds interesting.”
He sat back and gazed at me. “If people like your writing, then sponsors might send you stuff.”
Considering I had nothing, anything extra might be nice. I finished my soda. “Now, that’s pretty cool.”
The sun hung lower in the sky, and the air was slightly cooler. The day must have flown.
Gerard finished his fries. “We should head back and get ready for the party.”
Hopefully, I fit into whatever the tailor altered for me. I stood. “Lead the way, boss.”
As we returned to the bicycles, he said, “Just call me Gerard.”
I already did in my head. I sighed and picked up my bike. “Okay, Gerard.”
A nice, leisurely return trip was the perfect end to a day of getting to know the man who was clearly going to star in my dreams. He was a rare man, and his self-control was fucking sexy.