Page 32 of The Devastation You Reap
He picks up a carrot stick and scoops up a dollop of hummus, holding it out toward me. "Here."
"I-I… uh…" He moves it closer until the hummus touches my lips.
"Open up, Red."
Unable to do anything but follow orders, my mouth opens and he pushes the carrot inside.
I take a bite of it, then he throws the other end of the stick into his mouth and chews.
And damn him because even while chewing he looks hot.
He finishes getting everything out and then lays down beside the plates and starts picking at the food, encouraging me to do the same.
We eat in silence, my gaze alternating between Leon, the food and the insane view.
This date is literally the thing of romance novels. It is the kind of romance that every woman dreams of. So why do I feel like the blanket is going to be pulled from beneath me any minute now?
"You still looked stressed," Leon muses.
"I'm sorry. I keep getting stuck in my own head. Did you bring something for us to drink?"
"Shit, yeah. Sorry."
He sits up and rummages around in a bag that's hidden behind the basket.
"Champagne, really?" I ask, lifting a brow.
"Cliché, I know. But what else could I get to go with this."
"Fair point. A bottle of Bud wouldn't really go."
He passes me two glasses before getting to work on popping the cork.
"I… uh… don't really drink."
He pauses and looks at me, although he must have me figured out better than I do him because a soft smile plays on his lips. "Why am I not surprised? You're too good, Red."
"Nothing wrong with that," I snap, like I always do whenever someone criticizes my life choices.
"It's not a bad thing. It just really makes me want to turn you a little bit bad."
"I'm already breaking all my rules by being here. One thing at a time."
"Just a little one?" he asks, already pouring the bubbles into the glass.
"Sure. As long as you promise that if I get drunk, you'll make sure I get back in one piece."
"Huh."
"What?"
"I just thought you were going to warn me about taking advantage of you if you get drunk. Maybe you are starting to get to know me."
"Thank you," I say, lifting my glass to my lips when he takes his and ignoring his comment about taking advantage, mainly because there is no way in hell that I'm letting him get me drunk. I need to be on full alert when it comes to Leon Dunn.
I take the smallest sip before placing the glass in the grass behind me.
"So, tell me something else about you aside from football," I demand, popping an olive into my mouth and licking the oil from my fingertip.
