The Consequence of Revenge - Page 76/88

“Details.” I waved her off. “So, food. We have salad to start and oh, look, Reid . . .” I did a double take. “Son of a barbecue-sauce-drinking slut.”

“What?” Becca looked up.

“Surprise, bitch,” Reid mouthed. “I’ll be helping this evening since I’m part of this camera crew.”

Side note, we changed camera crews because the other crew was shooting from the rocky cliff. It only made sense to have one waiting for us while we approached from the beach.

“Tell me the truth, did you poison the food?” I asked. “Don’t lie, Reid. It tarnishes the family name and Pop-pop always told us he’d haunt us if we lied.”

“Pop-pop’s dead.” Reid rolled his eyes.

Something howled.

I lifted my hands in the air and pointed at Reid. “Cool, so when whatever that was comes to get you tonight, remember those words.”

“Romantic.” Reid nodded to Becca. “Am I right? He talks about his dead Pop-pop over a candlelit dinner—nearly stole my breath away.”

“He’s hungry,” Becca explained.

“I’m marrying her,” I announced. “Not only does she realize that I’m not myself when I’m hungry, but she owns a cowboy hat.”

“Got any boots to go with that hat?” Reid asked, his interest piqued.

“I’ll do you one better.” Becca leaned back and took a long sip of wine. “I’ve got a rope too.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned.

Reid patted me on the back. “I think you just gave my brother his first orgasm.”

“Why do they let Reids in this joint? It’s supposed to be a classy establishment!” I pushed off his hand. “Now bring us food, damn it!”

Reid walked off behind the hut and helped the cook bring out the first appetizer.

“Bon appétit!”

I looked down.

Becca tilted her head.

“I’m not gonna lie.” I poked around with my fork. “I don’t need this . . . I’m already there.”

“Huh?” She looked up.

“Oysters for my oyster,” I explained.

“What are you talking about?”

“You sure you’re not Amish?”

“Do Amish people not eat oysters?”

“Horny.” I nodded. “They make guys horny. It’s said to aid blood flow to certain areas of the body.”

Becca snorted. “Like you need help with that.”

“Aw.” I winked. “Care to find out? I promise I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Cameras.” Becca coughed.

“Free show!” I shrugged. “Besides, it’s dark.”

Becca’s gaze met mine. “I don’t care if its pitch-black. Some things you just can’t hide, Max, especially if they’re big enough.”

“I want to paint you.” I nodded. “It’s the biggest honor I can think of next to making a statue in your name and honestly, that’s just too far.”

“Amazing.” Becca picked up an oyster and used her fork to remove the inside. “That you even know the definition of too far.”

“Too far.” I cleared my throat. “When you cross the line and have sex. Too far. Next question, please.”

Becca smirked and rolled her eyes. Pretty sure we were about to go through an entire bottle of wine before the second course.

Luckily, Reid brought bread, which was good because I hadn’t been drinking much water and the wine was going straight to my head, making me feel more brave, which, if we’re all being honest, is just a bad idea all around. For everyone.

Myself included.

Two salads.

A loaf of bread.

Two bottles of wine.

Chicken and vegetables.

Laughter.

And finally . . . dessert.

Our date had officially lasted longer than the rest of the dates put together. I got up from my chair and held my hand out to Becca. We walked over to the fire and sat on the cushions placed around it. A tray of different types of chocolate and strawberries had been placed next to the cushions. And, of course, more wine, because apparently they wanted us completely smashed before the night ended.

“I’m tired.” Becca yawned.

“I seem to have that effect on people.”

“You are pretty exhausting.”

“I count that a victory.” I laughed, picking up a piece of white chocolate and holding it to her lips. “Now bite.”

Becca bit into the chocolate and moaned.

Damn chocolate.

Why didn’t I think of rubbing my body down with chocolate, then asking her to bite?

“So good.” Becca opened her mouth again, like a little bird. I had no choice but to keep feeding her, and lusting after every little movement her tongue made across her lips. Self-control be damned.

“You’re killing me,” I said in a hoarse voice. “But if I had to choose a way to go, this would be it.”

“Feeding me?” Becca laughed.

“Watching you eat.” I sighed. “I could watch that mouth all day long and never get bored. In fact, you’re my favorite when you’re this way.”

“What way?”

“Don’t move.” I pulled away and stared. “Exactly like that.”

“Hardly breathing and so full of dinner I want to sleep?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Sitting by the fire. I could watch you eat chocolate, drink wine, I could just watch you all day because everything you do is so unique, so part of who you are.” I sighed. “It’s possible I drank a bit too much wine, but you’re absolutely, astonishingly beautiful.” I cupped her face and brought my mouth close to hers. “Mmm, white chocolate.”