Page 34 of Her Paramedic
“What does that handsome man of yours have planned for Valentine’s Day?” Whitney asked as she cleaned some of her tools after her last client.
“I don’t know,” Talia responded. “To be honest, we don’t have to do anything.”
“I have a feeling he wouldn’t be okay with that,” Monique stated, approaching from the reception desk. “You’ve gotten more deliveries in the past few weeks than I think any of us have combined in the past couple of years.”
“Whatever it is, let us know,” Maya requested.
“Yes, we’re all living vicariously through you,” Nesha added.
She didn’t doubt that he probably had something planned, but she would be fine with them spending time together. They hadn’t discussed what they would do, but now that she thought about it, she hadn’t asked or suggested beyond them being together, and neither had he. There was one thing Talia knew they would do, and maybe that was why she was ready to see him.
It was almost seven when she pulled in front of Slate’s house. She grabbed her purse and small suitcase from the backseat after draping her coat over her arm. The front door opened shortly after she knocked.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted, kissing her.
“Hey, baby,” she replied, entering the house. “Something smells good.”
He took her suitcase and coat from her. “I thought we could start the night with dinner. Come on. I’ll show you the bedroom.”
She followed him down the hall, where he pointed out two guest rooms and a bathroom before they stepped into his bedroom, which was decorated in shades of gray. She took it in as he placed her suitcase and coat in the closet, and she put her purse on the dresser.
They backtracked to the kitchen, where the delicious smell was more prominent. He pulled a chair out for her at the table, which housed a bottle of wine chilling on ice, taper candles, and two vases of red roses. Talia smiled as he pulled one from the vase and handed it to her.
“What did you cook, babe?” she asked as she watched him pour glasses of wine.
“Ribeye, German potato salad, and Brussels sprouts.”
“The superior vegetable,” Talia stated, and he rolled his eyes playfully.
“If you say so, baby.”
During a conversation, he wasn’t shocked when she told him Brussels sprouts were one of her favorite vegetables. He was when she said it was the superior of the vegetable family. She took a sip of wine while watching him move around the kitchen. His back was to her, and her eyes zeroed in on his shoulders. Each time she’d seen them since he had her test them as leg rests, she was transported back to that night, and she probably should have been ashamed by how wet the memory made her.
A couple of minutes later, Slate set a plate in front of her, and she discovered two things. The first was that German potato salad was not what she thought it was. It was yellow baby potatoes sliced in quarters, topped with chives, bacon pieces, sauteed purple onion, and tossed in something. The second was that it looked as good as it smelled—not just the food, but the presentation of it.
“So you moonlight as a chef in your spare time, huh?” she teased.
Slate chuckled as he sat across from her. “Only for you, baby.”
As they ate, Talia discovered that German potato salad might be her new favorite food as they discussed their days.
Once they finished eating and Slate declined her help cleaning, she went into his bedroom and removed her toiletry bag and the gift boxes. She freshened her breath before taking the two boxes into the living room and placing them on the coffee table, then went back into the kitchen to try again to help. She casually walked to the other side of the sink, intent on rinsing the dishes.
“No,” Slate stated.
“If you let me help, it’ll go much faster.”
“You want to help?” Talia nodded. “You see those barstools?” He tilted his head back in the general direction of them.
“Yes.”
“Be a good girl, and sit your pretty ass on one until I’m done,” he smirked.
She no longer had the desire to help. All that mattered was that playful command she was well aware he meant, uttered in that deep baritone. The only thing Talia wanted to do wasbe a good girl,but that didn’t mean she still couldn’t be a bit of a brat. She moved the barstool to where she could look at his profile and sat.
Slate chuckled. “I almost expected you to put it at the sink and still try to help.”
Talia smiled. “I thought about it, but you told me to be a good girl, and I intend to besogood for you.”
