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“Well,” Zeb says with a grin. “Dig in.”
The others take up their spoons and forks, dishing out food onto their plates and mine. I open my mouth to remind them that I can serve up my own food, but a brief glance from Phineas stills my protest.
What are they all up to?
Uncertain what to think, I wait until Phineas sets the plate in front of me, and then I pick up my fork and take a bite of the chicken.
Flavors explode in my mouth. The meat is so tender and moist, I swear I’ve never tasted anything as good. I swallow it down and look up at Zeb with wide eyes. “That’s amazing.”
His grin spreads. “Glad you think so.”
I devour several more bites before I pause long enough to ask, “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
He shrugs. “I took a few courses at a culinary school before shifting my focus to law. Or, rather, agreeing to shift my focus. It was always my parents’ plan. I’d be a lawyer, my brother would be a doctor, and my little sisters will be whatever’s left after that. I just… needed to try something else first.”
I can hear the complicated tension behind the words, and I opt for the lightest thing I can think to say in response. “Good call.”
Zeb chuckles.
Phineas tears off a small piece of bread. “Try this.” His voice is quiet, but there’s an order in the tone too, and it does strange things to my insides while Creepy coos in the background.
But he doesn’t put it on my plate. Instead, he just extends it toward my lips.
I tense, confused, but he only waits there, his brow rising as if silently repeating the order.
The others are watching me, I can tell. It feels like the room itself is holding its breath. But I can’t take my eyes from Phineas, and I’m suddenly not sure what would happen if I said no.
But then, it’s not like I want to be rude.
Carefully, I lean forward and take the bite from between his fingers.
The bread practically melts in my mouth in a delicious blend of sweetness and spice. My eyes close instinctively, it tastes so damn good.
“Here.”
I open my eyes as his thumb traces from the corner of my mouth along my bottom lip, ostensibly cleaning a crumb of bread away.
My insides tremble.
At the center of my lower lip, he pauses and then tugs my lips apart ever so slightly.
My heart pounds. Even that tiny contact has me feeling bound to him, like I could no sooner move away than reverse gravity. On impulse, my tongue flicks out, brushing the pad of his thumb.
A hint of approval ghosts through his expression. “Good girl.”
Heat rushes through me, going straight down to my core.
He releases me and I draw in a breath, pulling back, but I’m way too shaky for my own good. Worse, even that small moment has me wet for him.
I wonder if he knows that.
Dropping my gaze to my plate, I try to refocus on the meal. Whatever Phineas is after, this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing right now. This is “getting to know you” time. Not a preamble to fucking time.
Gods, it’d be a really good preamble to fucking time, though.
I clear my throat. “So, um…” I struggle to form words, let alone know what to say with them. “Your family owns an apothecary?”
I keep my eyes locked on my plate as I ask the question, and it takes a small eternity before Phineas replies neutrally. “They did, yes.”
