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“Great... We’re going to have dinner together,” he says, his voice full of excitement.
“Are you serious?” I pause for clarity then pick up my fork to mix the meat and rice together. “What are you having?”
“I’m dead-ass serious and I’m having what you’re having.”
“Wow. I don’t…know what to say. How?”
The words hadn’t left my mouth for an entire thirty seconds before the phone beeps. I see he’s attempting to FaceTime me. My eyes grow wide, and I quickly ignore it. Panic sets in, and I have to keep myself from accidentally ending the call altogether.
“Why did you video call me?” I say softly. The last thing I want to do is come off harshly, but it’s a little upsetting he tried that without warning.
“How else are we going to have dinner together, sweets? Call me crazy, but I enjoy looking at the person I share my meals with,” he jokes.
“But we talked about this. I’m not—”
“I know. You aren’t ready to meet, which is why I resorted to this. I want you, Jessica, in every way possible. I want to take you out and show you things, and I know you want to pace yourself. But I was hoping I’d earn a bit of a compromise here. We’ve already visited the nastiest, most intimate parts of each other’s minds, and you’ve already sent me that sexy-ass photo. What would it hurt to have a virtual call? We can even do this from the neck down. I want to see you while we eat.”
I sigh, taking my time to decide on all he’s said. He’s right, we have done and shared things that people share in a normal dating scenario. So why am I being so difficult with this?
“Hey, you said you would be open-minded tonight.” He chuckles.
With a deep breath, I stand and enter my bedroom to retrieve my iPad from the dresser. When I return to my dining table, I prop it up against the centerpiece then skate over to the living room for a throw pillow to sit on. If I’m going to agree to this, I’ll need the height from the cushion to position the camera just right. Testing the placement, I add one more pillow before opening the device and calling him back. My phone goes dead as his chest comes into view on the screen in front of me. My palms grow sweaty, and I rub them on my skirt while trying to control my breaths.
“Much better,” Kade says, resting his elbows on the table.
I run my gaze over his frame, taking in his broad shoulders, thick arms, and fully-grown beard. His collar is undone, teasing me with a peek of his strong, tanned neckline. He swallows, and I’m immediately distracted by the shifting of his Adam’s Apple. Tattoos stare out underneath the folded cuffs of his sleeves and raise my brows in admiration.
“Thank you for planning this,” I finally add. “This is so sweet. I still don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me about your day?” he asks, leaning closer to the camera, his muscles flexing under his shirt.
The sight opens the floodgates in between my legs. I bite my bottom lip, hoping he doesn’t notice the sudden change in my body temperature. If I thought this man gave zaddy vibes over the phone, he’s definitely serving it on a full-course platter right now.
I clear my throat and reach for my wineglass, taking a large sip. “My day was pretty good. It wasn’t a busy day at all, really. So you kinda picked the perfect day to plan this. Speaking of, how did you decide on what to order?”
He picks up his fork and shoves a helping of the delicious-smelling Shawarma into his mouth. “You told me you loved ethnic foods, and I’d honestly never tried Lebanese before,” he adds after swallowing his first bite.
“Really?” I exclaim while preparing to take a bite of my own. “Well, you’ve tasted it at this point. What do you think?” I pause to chew my food.
“It’s pretty good. Very well-seasoned. I don’t know if it’s something I can eat every day. But the flavors are really nice.” He takes another helping.
“Oh, same. It’s very rich, and too much of anything can sometimes be a bad thing. So I switch it up.”
“Well, that’s debatable.” His jawline rises lightly, indicating a smile.
“What is?” I quiz.
“That too much of anything can be a bad thing. I can think of plenty of things I’ll never get tired of,” he flirts.
I laugh, using my hand to cover my mouth as I swallow my food. “Like what?”
“Your laugh, for one,” he declares.
I blush and stab another piece of beef to pop in my mouth. “How was your day? What brought you to the East Coast?”
He sips his wine. “My cousin, Jackson, is an investor and every year hosts this big gala. So my family and I show up to support him and the cause.”
“That sounds really nice. When is it?”
