Read Online The Ranger's Passionate Love by Nicole Jordan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nicole Jordan
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he explained.
Oh, Hell. I never could say no to someone who liked my food, never mind when they look at me with those eyes.
Kyara stood, walking towards the kitchen.
It's nice to have someone actually appreciate my food, she justified to herself. And the sooner he gets over this, the sooner I can get him out of here.
"I'll get you a plate," she said, "if you agree to leave right after."
He studied her for a moment, his eyes equally thoughtful and hurt.
"Deal," he said finally.
Kyara turned to push into the kitchen, then stopped.
"You're wrong, by the way," she said. "You may be all 'I'm talking about the future,' and 'I don't know history.' But we all have a history, Jason. And it does matter. It tells us who we are."
She turned before she could see his reaction, and disappeared into the kitchen. There she popped from bin to bin, even adding a piece of the fried chicken cooling by the window. She returned to the dining area carrying the plate gripped in front of her like a soldier marching into battle.
He sat quietly, just waiting for her.
She placed the plate of hot food before him, pulling her own plate to herself, and placed a roll of silverware down near his hand.
In almost maddening silence, he picked up his fork, and pulled away a piece of the ham. He looked it over, an art critic in a gallery, before placing it between his lips. Kyara watched him as he slowly chewed, letting his eyes drift half-shut. Then he silently moved his fork for a piece of the tomato. Like before, he studied it, then slowly brought it to his mouth. He ate slowly, letting the textures and flavors play across his tongue. Finally, he took a single, long strip from the chicken, chewing it just as slowly as before.
Finished with each of his single bites, but he put the fork down on the plate.
Silence stretched.
"Well?" Kyara asked at last.
"That," he said at last, "is amazing." He reached for his fork again.
Kyara let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"You're a giant tease, you know that?" she accused.
Jason paused, fork half-way to his mouth.
"You have no idea," he said. Then he finished taking his bite.
Kyara smiled, and turned her attention to her own food.
They ate for a while, just sharing the experience in silence.
"You really should be selling this," he said. "It's far too good to hide away."
Kyara kept her eyes on her plate.
"It doesn't really fit the cafe thing."
"So change it," Jason responded immediately. "The cafe thing doesn't work out here. You need something that will bring people in from other towns. This," he gestured, a chunk of chicken speared on the end of his fork, "will do it. I would drive a pink tricycle naked through town if it got me to this."
Kyara flushed and tried not to smile.
"I might insist that you do," she said.
Jason chortled, but then grew quiet.
"Seriously," he asked, "Why not do this?"
Kyara contemplated the question for a moment.
"I considered it, of course. It's what I love to cook. But it's so ... Southern. And up here really, really isn't."
"That doesn't make it bad," Jason pointed out. "Just different. People might like a little different around here."
Kyara arched an eyebrow at him.
"Is that my appeal? Different?"
"You know it's more than that, though I'd certainly like to taste you, too."
Kyara fought back rush of heat and desire, struggling to return to the topic at hand.
Jason chuckled. "Though that may be a bit much to ask on a first date."
Kyara's eyes almost popped out of her head.
"We are not on a date," she said emphatically.
Jason looked down at the table between them, half-eaten food piled on their plates.
"Really? What do you call two people who like each other having a meal?"
Kyara swallowed, the taste of the food suddenly gone to ash in her mouth.
"This ... is a
Oh, Hell. I never could say no to someone who liked my food, never mind when they look at me with those eyes.
Kyara stood, walking towards the kitchen.
It's nice to have someone actually appreciate my food, she justified to herself. And the sooner he gets over this, the sooner I can get him out of here.
"I'll get you a plate," she said, "if you agree to leave right after."
He studied her for a moment, his eyes equally thoughtful and hurt.
"Deal," he said finally.
Kyara turned to push into the kitchen, then stopped.
"You're wrong, by the way," she said. "You may be all 'I'm talking about the future,' and 'I don't know history.' But we all have a history, Jason. And it does matter. It tells us who we are."
She turned before she could see his reaction, and disappeared into the kitchen. There she popped from bin to bin, even adding a piece of the fried chicken cooling by the window. She returned to the dining area carrying the plate gripped in front of her like a soldier marching into battle.
He sat quietly, just waiting for her.
She placed the plate of hot food before him, pulling her own plate to herself, and placed a roll of silverware down near his hand.
In almost maddening silence, he picked up his fork, and pulled away a piece of the ham. He looked it over, an art critic in a gallery, before placing it between his lips. Kyara watched him as he slowly chewed, letting his eyes drift half-shut. Then he silently moved his fork for a piece of the tomato. Like before, he studied it, then slowly brought it to his mouth. He ate slowly, letting the textures and flavors play across his tongue. Finally, he took a single, long strip from the chicken, chewing it just as slowly as before.
Finished with each of his single bites, but he put the fork down on the plate.
Silence stretched.
"Well?" Kyara asked at last.
"That," he said at last, "is amazing." He reached for his fork again.
Kyara let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"You're a giant tease, you know that?" she accused.
Jason paused, fork half-way to his mouth.
"You have no idea," he said. Then he finished taking his bite.
Kyara smiled, and turned her attention to her own food.
They ate for a while, just sharing the experience in silence.
"You really should be selling this," he said. "It's far too good to hide away."
Kyara kept her eyes on her plate.
"It doesn't really fit the cafe thing."
"So change it," Jason responded immediately. "The cafe thing doesn't work out here. You need something that will bring people in from other towns. This," he gestured, a chunk of chicken speared on the end of his fork, "will do it. I would drive a pink tricycle naked through town if it got me to this."
Kyara flushed and tried not to smile.
"I might insist that you do," she said.
Jason chortled, but then grew quiet.
"Seriously," he asked, "Why not do this?"
Kyara contemplated the question for a moment.
"I considered it, of course. It's what I love to cook. But it's so ... Southern. And up here really, really isn't."
"That doesn't make it bad," Jason pointed out. "Just different. People might like a little different around here."
Kyara arched an eyebrow at him.
"Is that my appeal? Different?"
"You know it's more than that, though I'd certainly like to taste you, too."
Kyara fought back rush of heat and desire, struggling to return to the topic at hand.
Jason chuckled. "Though that may be a bit much to ask on a first date."
Kyara's eyes almost popped out of her head.
"We are not on a date," she said emphatically.
Jason looked down at the table between them, half-eaten food piled on their plates.
"Really? What do you call two people who like each other having a meal?"
Kyara swallowed, the taste of the food suddenly gone to ash in her mouth.
"This ... is a
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