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While the answer is flashing like a damn electronic billboard, I ignore it.
Well, I ignore it as best I can.
Thankfully, our food is brought out then, and soon, we’re all digging in. It’s Gavin who speaks first. “Do you think you’ll stay here in Blitz?”
I look up then and find that she has taken a huge bit of her lemon shrimp pasta, the same thing I got. Unable to keep the words at bay, I answer, “I assume so, when she has a very successful business here.”
“Yeah, she wouldn’t leave what she’s built here,” Elliot adds. “Coach, she’s going to keep your pups while you’re gone, right?”
I nod. “Yeah. Hopefully she doesn’t spoil them too much.”
Elliot snorts. “She will. The only thing Clara knows how to do is shower pups and people with love.”
Clara’s face flushes as she shrugs, and I love how cute she is when she’s embarrassed. When she directs her eyes to mine, I stare into hers and can’t help but say, “That’s obvious, with how bright she is.”
Her face flushes more, the red along her chest and neck begging me for a taste. I shift in my seat again, pulling my gazefrom hers as Elliot adds, “Very true. Since she was a baby, she’s been a walking ball of sunshine for us.”
That’s a perfect way to explain her, but I don’t say that or ask Elliot to tell me more. I want to know everything, but I have no right.
She’s not mine.
Beside me, Gavin beams. “She really is.”
I don’t miss how Clara looks away to her food, her blush subsiding as she focuses on the pasta in front of her. Unable to resist, I ask, “It’s good, isn’t it, Clara?”
Her gaze jerks to mine, and a wide smile moves across her face. “So good.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“Mine too. We come here every Saturday.”
I nod. “I order from here twice a week, but I only get the pasta when I eat in.”
Her eyes fill with a sureness. “So, I was right? Steak and potatoes?”
“You were right, and sometimes a burger.”
She scrunches up her face. “The burgers aren’t that great. Have you tried the cod sandwich?”
I furrow my brows. “I haven’t, actually.”
“Try that with the asparagus. You’ll love it.” Her eyes are so damn bright, her smile even brighter, and I can’t stop.
“Are you a fan of asparagus?”
“Huge!” she says with excitement. “I coat them with Parmesan and fry ’em. Chef’s kiss, fantastic!” she gushes, kissing her fingers loudly, and I want to beam back at her.
“I bake them with garlic and Parmesan.”
“Oh, that sounds divine,” she says so animatedly, I’m breathless. We continue our discussion of different ways to cook the vegetable. Our conversation is easy, flowing, and I’m consumed by her. She’s so vibrant—with her hand movements,the flush on her face, and the sparkle in her eyes. We then move on to brussels sprouts and somehow find ourselves discussing how to make golden paste for dogs.
“You’re doing too much!” She laughs, shaking her head, and I can’t help but smirk at her. “I’ll bring you some of mine on Monday. You’re adding too much, and that’s why the boys don’t like it. Dogs have simple tastes. They want meat. I’ll show you how to make it.”
“Fine, but I don’t think your way is right.” Shit, am I teasing her?
She grins. “I know I’m right. I’m the expert.”
I scoff. “Should you really speak this way to your client?”
