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Paige groaned. “That stupid bet. I was really hoping you’d let that go.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because it would be the gentlemanly thing to do, that’s why.”
“I’m not sure how backing out of a bet I won fair and square is the gentlemanly thing to do, but I’m not doing it.”
“Fine,” she grudgingly capitulated. “Thursday night’s open.”
“Is that the same Thursday night that less than a minute ago you said didn’t work for you?”
She just looked at him.
He looked back. “That was a real question.”
“Yes, that’s the same Thursday,” she answered.
“All right. Pencil me in for Thursday. I’ll be at your place around, say 7 p.m.?”
“Fine.”
“Don’t you want to know what you’ll be making?”
“Of course.” Paige rolled her eyes. “What will I be making?”
“Spaghetti.”
“With meatballs?”
“God, yes.”
“Anything else?” Her tone was sweetly fake.
“Salad with Ranch dressing. Maybe some French bread. Actually, no. Make it garlic bread. Oh, and green beans.”
Paige blinked at him for a moment, then said, “Is that it? His majesty doesn’t want dessert?”
His only acknowledgement of the ‘majesty’ comment was a slight drawing together of his eyebrows before he said, “Yes, thank you. Tiramisu. It doesn’t have to be homemade, though.”
“It doesn’t? Aww, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You can bring the wine,” she told him. “And I mean the good stuff—not that shit in a box.”
“I love boxed wine.”
“I know you do. And it’s wrong. Wine is supposed to come out of a bottle.”
“Jesus, someone’s still a wine snob.”
“Says the person who only drinks craft beer with crazy names,” Paige countered pointedly, before administering the coup de grâce. “From a glass.”
At first David looked as if he was going to dispute that and then shook his head, laughing out loud. “Shit, you got me there. You win. Wine in a bottle, it is.”
Chapter 64
For the next few days, David pretty much lived rent-free in Paige’s mind, so that by the time his ‘victory’ dinner was upon her, she was more anxious than she’d been in a long time, buzzing with nervous energy.
