He stood watching her while he drank his wine, arguing with himself about what to do and more importantly, what his true feelings were toward her. Frustrated when he couldn’t come up with an answer he liked, he left her peaceful and returned to the kitchen to cook the steak. When it was resting and almost ready to plate up, he woke her up.
“Hey, sleepy head. Dinner’s ready. Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?”
Chapter Thirteen
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?”
Did she just hear that right? “I thought we were only friends.” Her tongue was thick in her mouth.
“Dakota, wake up.” A hand grabbed her shoulder, shook her.
Dakota roused herself from sleep and opened her eyes, pulled a strand of hair from her cheek that had stuck with dribble. Adam peered down at her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed? I can put your dinner in the refrigerator before I go and when you feel like it, you can heat it up.”
She wiped at her mouth, shuddered at the line of drool that ran down her chin. How incredibly sexy she must look. Dakota struggled to sit up. Put her dinner in the refrigerator before he goes home? Then he didn’t mean what she thought she heard.
She looked around the room, still disorientated. “What’s happening?”
A smile twitched at Adam’s lips. “You fell asleep.”
“Yay me.” She swung her legs down to the ground and rubbed her hands over her face. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be such rotten company.”
He laughed. “You’re not. And I have to cop that one because I’m partly to blame. Dinner is almost ready. Did you want to eat now or would you rather go to bed?”
The sparkle in his eyes made her more embarrassed than ever. Had she said something or reached for him? She already knew the answer to that question. Oh well, can’t be helped now. “I talk in my sleep, don’t I?”
Adam grinned and nodded his head.
How freaking sad she felt right now. “As much as I’d like to crawl into bed and forget the world today, it’s not going to happen, so your call. You can stay and eat with me since you went to so much trouble to make what smells like a lovely meal or you can scurry away and do your own thing but either way, I have to eat and get back to work.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind the company, I’d rather stay.”
“Great. At least let me freshen up.” Dakota hurried to the bathroom, peered at herself in the mirror. Why did she have to have one of those faces, the ones that told everyone what you were thinking? She’d never been able to get away with anything growing up and it seemed like she couldn’t now either. Just her luck. Way to embarrass yourself, Dakota.
She splashed cold water on her face and held a cold wet cloth to her tired eyes, willing them to give her at least another couple of hours. When she walked out to the kitchen, Adam had set the small round table by the kitchen window for two.
“This looks and smells amazing.” She tucked a curl behind her and took a deep sniff. Her stomach rumbled. That would teach her for not eating properly.
“Glad you think so. It’s my mother’s special sauce. One of my favorites too. Have a seat and dig in.” He held out her chair.
“Thanks.” Her stomach rumbled again and she pressed a hand to it willing it to settle down.
“Didn’t you eat anything today?” Adam picked up his knife and fork, watched her salivate over her meal.
“I had an apple and some crackers, I think. When I work I tend to lose myself and forget time and food.” The steak melted as she ran her knife through it. Dakota wiped the piece of meat through the golden sauce and popped it in her mouth. The flavor burst on her tongue, the hint of wood smoke in the whiskey balanced carefully against the richness of the cream. A moan escaped before she could hold it back. She chewed and savored the taste before swallowing.
“Oh my gosh. That is incredible. Tell your mother I said she is the perfect cook.”
“Hey, I did the cooking tonight.” Adam looked at her with a fake wounded glare on his face.
“Ah yes, and you did an amazing job but it’s her recipe. You said so yourself.” She smiled. He was so easy to be around. Such a shame circumstances weren’t different but she could always hope things would improve in the future. “My sister would love this recipe. Do you think your mother would share it?”
“Probably. She never said it was a secret. But I’ll check in case okay?”
“Sure. Bella’s a cook. A very good one actually. She won Masterchef last year, put out a couple of cookbooks and now has a reality show.”
“Bella Moore? I never would have put two and two together.” He lay his knife down on the edge of the plate and picked up his glass. “You really are a talented family, aren’t you?”
“I guess we are. Mom says we’re all overachievers and I think she’s right. We hate anything to beat us.”
“I bought my mother her latest cookbook for Christmas last year. She loves it and I think she’d be delighted to hand over the recipe, especially to someone as talented as your sister.” He took
