Dangerous, maybe. Addictive, for sure.
What the hell was I doing?
* * *
The restaurant was about fifteen minutes away, hidden away in a small strip mall. You would miss it if you blinked. I pulled up my truck beside Ava’s and slid from the vehicle, eyeing the small weather-beaten sign.
I scratched my head. “You sure this is the right place?”
She tugged on my hand. “Trust me.”
We walked into the restaurant, and the aroma hit me. Spice, garlic, ginger, and soy. Pungent and rich. There were only six tables and the two sides lined with eight booths. A couple of tables were taken, but Ava headed to the far side and slid into a booth. I followed her, my stomach growling. If the food tasted half as good as the place smelled, I was going to enjoy our dinner.
Ava plucked a plastic-covered menu from the holder and slid it my way.
“The dinner for two is good, but I usually order the dinner for four. The spicy one.”
I glanced at the list. Hot and sour soup with sizzling rice, spring rolls, sliced barbecue pork with hot Chinese mustard to start. Sizzling spicy beef, General Tso chicken, vegetables with almonds, crispy house noodles, and salt and pepper shrimp were the main dishes.
My mouth was watering.
“You take it home and share it with your family?” I guessed.
She shook her head. “I take home the leftovers, but I eat in usually. I prefer it hot and fresh.” She wrinkled her nose in amusement. “I love it when they drop the sizzling rice into the hot and sour soup. It makes lots of popping noises.”
I gaped at her. “You order a dinner for four just for yourself?”
“They’re my favorites.” she defended herself. “I take most of it home. And Mrs. Yeo only brings me one soup. She packs the rest of them up for me to take home.” She grinned. “Trust me, if I’m taking it home to my family, I need at least double that order. My dad could eat most of the one dinner by himself.”
I had to laugh at this crazy woman. She was so natural. She liked all the dishes, so she ordered a dinner for four by herself. She didn’t care. I couldn’t think of another woman I’d ever known who would be so carefree about something like this. One woman I’d dated used to count the number of bites of everything she ate. It drove me crazy since she’d rather starve herself or waste the food than take one more bite. We hadn’t lasted long. No one ever did.
Not that this was a date.
Having dinner with Ava didn’t count as dating her. I was simply returning the favor from the other day. That was all, I assured myself.
I slipped the menu back into the holder. “Sounds good.”
A young woman appeared by the table. “Hi, Ava.” She glanced my way, and her eyes widened. “And hello, stranger.”
Ava chuckled. “That’s Hunter. Hunter, this is Jade.” She turned to Jade. “How is your mom?”
“Much better. She’ll be back soon. Her hip is healing well.” Jade smiled. “Thank your family again for the gift basket and the meals. Mom said she was spoiled.”
Ava waved her hand. “It was our pleasure. She’s cooked enough meals for us, it was nice to give her a treat.”
Jade looked pleased. “Do you know what you want?”
Ava nodded. “The usual, but two soups.”
“I’ll probably eat two bowls,” I interjected. I loved hot and sour soup. “And bring all the appetizer things.”
Jade laughed. “Okay, then. Drinks?”
“White wine, please,” Ava said.
“Beer. Whatever is cold,” I added.
“Coors?”
“Good.”
Jade walked away, and I studied Ava. She still looked tired, but she was more relaxed. “Hard week?” I asked casually.
A shadow crossed her face. “A long one. Nothing new or different.” She traced her finger over the worn surface of the table. “Some feel longer than others.”
“What do you do, exactly? I mean, aside from the superhero gig?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light.
“I oversee all the planning and paperwork on every project we handle. I coordinate all the departments, secure the permits, deal with the various foremen, and work with the leads to stay on budget—” She frowned. “Among other things.”
“You deal with a lot of red tape.”
She paused before answering, letting Jade set down our drinks, and sipping her wine. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“You must be very good at it.”
Her eyes focused on the table for a moment. “I try.”
I sensed we were heading down an unhappy path. “I think you do more than try.” I nudged her foot with mine. “You’re humble.”
That made her smile. “That almost sounds like a compliment, Mr. Owens.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Never. Here comes your soup.”
That made her sit up. She smiled widely. “Oh.”
* * *
The soup was delicious. I could understand why Ava enjoyed the sizzling pucks of rice being dropped into the hot broth. It popped and steamed, blazing with heat. The rice added another element to the soup, and I ate two bowls. Everything that followed was amazing. Including watching Ava eat, which was a total turn-on. There was nothing put on or fake about her. She picked up the pork with her fingers, dragging it through the hot mustard. She cursed at the heat, chugging water, then went right back for more. She licked her fingers when the plum sauce on her spring roll dripped. She slurped the noodles, catching the sauce that dribbled on her lips with her tongue. She snagged the mushrooms I pushed to the side of my plate with my chopsticks, not caring if I disliked them or was saving them for later. She moaned low in her throat as she ate a shrimp, biting into the crisp, spicy coating with gusto. We played chopstick war over the dish of vegetables when I realized she was sneaking all the crunchy almonds out of the dish. We talked about nothing and everything. The small town. The area around it. Toronto in general. Her little SUV and how minute it looked beside my large Ford F-150.