Page 10 of Kylie’s Kakes

Jordan took me to a little Italian place a few blocks from downtown. It was dimly lit, and the tables had candles that stuck out of round wine bottles. And the menu didn't have prices. At least, not the one I was handed.

"I think I got the pretty menu and you got the real one." I flipped mine over like the prices might be hiding on the back. "Is that a thing? Do restaurants do that?"

"Depends on the restaurant." His eyes were bright with amusement even as he tried to hide his smile. "Like this one, apparently."

I furrowed my brows. "So you know exactly how much everything costs, and I'm just supposed to pick something and hope for the best." That was the most sexist thing I’d ever heard.

"You don’t need to worry about prices, Kylie. Not with me." He closed his menu and then put it down. "Do you like wine?"

"Yeah, um, usually whites, but are reds better with Italian?" I bit my lip, scanning the menu to see what would pop out at me. "I’m good with whatever you like."

"Well, I’m good with you enjoying your wine, but I can help you pick something that will pair well with your food.” He nodded toward my menu. “What are you thinking?”

“It all sounds amazing, but I love gnocchi with pesto.” I glanced up at him. “Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." He picked up the wine list and glanced at it. “They have Vermentino that will go well with pesto. Want to give it a try?”

I shrugged but nodded. “Sure, if you think I’ll like it.”

He put down his menu and folded his hands over it. “I’ll order a Pinot Grigio for myself, and if you don’t like the Vermentino, you can have the PG.”

That was extremely thoughtful. My instinct was to tell him that wasn’t necessary but the server appeared before I had a chance.

"Welcome to Franco’s. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

Jordan caught my eye and silently asked for permission to order.

I flashed a quick smile and nodded, trying not to let him see how happy it made me that he felt comfortable ordering for me.

He asked for two glasses of wine and then added our food orders as well.

Once the server had stepped away, Jordan tore a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and passed it to me. "Is olive oil good for you or would you like me to ask for butter?”

“Olive oil is perfect.” I broke a smaller piece off the bread and dipped it in the olive oil. It was delicious.

As Jordan did the same, I took the opportunity to learn more about him.

"So, what’s it like to write a cookbook? Can you use all your favorite recipes or do you have to invent new ones?" I popped my bread into my mouth and stared at his full lips as he spoke.

"I’m mostly using my own recipes. Stuff I created for my restaurant but…" He sighed and his shoulders dropped an inch. “Well, I’m used to making them in bigger batches, and just reducing the quantities isn’t producing the results I want. I need to basically create totally new recipes to work for smaller meals.”

“Huh.” I thought about that for a second. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, they always say baking is chemistry and cooking is…” I paused because I couldn’t actually remember what they said.

"Art." He smiled and looked at me like he appreciated the effort. “They say it’s art, but sometimes I wonder if they actually mean torture.”

A low chuckle bubbled out of me right as our glasses of wine appeared.

Jordan held his up and waited for me to do the same. “Here’s to a great meal with great company.”

“Cheers.” I clinked my glass with his and then took a sip. Jordan held his in front of his mouth, waiting to see my reaction. “Ooh, that’s good.”

“So you want to keep it or do you want to try this one first and then decide?”

I smacked my lips together dramatically. “I’ll keep this. It’s yummy.”

"I’m glad to hear it." He took a drink then put his glass down. “So, tell me about your new business.”

I felt my face heat up when his attention was fully on me, but once I got to talking about how much I loved baking and how the random cake orders just started rolling in before I realized it, I couldn’t stop. It all just flowed out. When I finally stopped to catch my breath, he had an amused smile on his face. It was the same kind of smile I’d seen on some of the Daddies when their girls were excited. “Sorry, that was probably more than you wanted to know, but I’m still a little shocked that I’m doing it.”