Page 38 of Falling for the CEO

“Wow. If that little guy were mine, I’d be all over him.”

Spencer chuckled. “He’s the best damn thing that could’ve happened to me. Am I completely sleep-deprived and feel like I have no idea what I'm doing half the time? Yes. But I’ve never been this happy."

I swear my heart was trying to jump out of my chest. I couldn't believe he’d said something so sweet. "You're a good dad, Spencer."

"I'm trying to be."

The waiter brought the bottle of wine, uncorking it quickly and pouring a bit in two glasses. Both Spencer and I reached for ours. He twirled his wine gently, and I copied the movement. Just by sniffing it, I could tell it was finer than any wine I've ever had—including the one at my wedding.

"I love it," I exclaimed. Spencer nodded, and the waiter poured generously. Then Spencer held his glass up. “Let's toast.”

"To what?" I said, feeling giddy, shimmying in my seat as I held up the glass, and we clinked them.

“Though our date started unusually, with my grandmother pushing us out the door, and continued even more unconventionally—”

"Spencer!" I exclaimed.

"I wouldn’t change any of it,” he went on. “Damn, you look delicious when you're red in the cheeks."

He was being gallant, because I knew for a fact I turned into a tomato when I blushed. My forehead and my chin were red as beets as well.

The waiter interrupted us again, putting down sliced bread and a little dish with olives. I immediately took two olives with my fork. I wasn't prepared for the explosion of flavors in my mouth. I tasted honey and lemon and a very sweet element. They’d stuffed dried figs in the olives.

"This is amazing."

Spencer cleared his throat. I stopped chewing and glanced at him. He was eying me hungrily.

"What?" I murmured.

"The sounds you made reminded me of our elevator trip."

Oh, hell! I just had to accept that I was going to blush a lot tonight.

We received our spaghetti a few minutes later.

"That was fast,” I said.

"That's one of the things I like about this restaurant."

I glanced at both our plates, wrinkling my nose.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"Yours looks more delicious than mine."

"You're more than welcome to try some of it."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I planted my fork right in the center of the pile of spaghetti, twirling it a couple times until I'd filled it. Spencer laughed.

"I love how you taste my food first and not yours," he said as I shoved the huge mouthful in. I smiled sheepishly.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.” Now, this was delicious. I might just have to rethink my dislike for guanciale. I gave him a thumbs-up because I couldn't speak with my mouth full.

"You know what? You took a huge amount. So it's only fair that I take a large forkful from your plate as well."

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