Don't Go Baking My Heart

Devon stared at JB. “And what if you bring me something I turn out not to like?”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” JB said confidently.

“How does a concept like this even work? This sounds like a total disaster.”

“Oh, it’s not a new concept. I actually got the idea while I was in Paris some years ago. Decided to bring it home here. I’ve been open for a few years now, so guess it’s not so much of a disaster, huh?”

“Come on, roll with the experience,” Reba urged. “I know you want to get back to the office in the stipulated time.”

Devon rubbed at his nose bridge. “Okay, just…nothing with the consistency of risotto, please.”

“Got it. Reebs?”

“I’m in the mood for an explosion of flavours today. Light on the spicy, but make my tongue happy.”

“I’ll have Dina bring over some water and the drinks list, which should ease your friend’s mind a bit.”

Devon watched JB walk away before looking back to her. “I don’t like surprises,” he announced.

Reba placed her hands in her lap. Obviously, she knew he wasn’t the type to go along with this. It was the whole reason why she had brought him here. Well, that and the slight revenge she wanted to exact. He should consider himself lucky that this was all she had decided on. In fact, it was barely a punishment at all.

“Do you want to go? Or do you, for once in your life, want to do something spontaneous that I promise won’t kill you?”

“I get it, I hurt you with my careless comment, but this…” He gestured to where a couple was literally grooving to the music, in their own little world as if there wasn’t a full midday sun shining brightly outside. “Just seems like you want to make me uncomfortable just because you can.”

“Is it really making you feel uncomfortable? Real talk. It’s not my intention at all. Yes, I was upset and wanted to frustrate you a bit, but if you genuinely feel itchy about it, we can go somewhere less exciting.”

Reba liked to push Devon’s buttons but causing anxiety to flare up wasn’t her deal. Just because he didn’t outwardly express his emotions most times didn’t mean he didn’t feel things.

“It’s not my usual scene, obviously, but I’ll live.”

“Once you’re sure.” She leaned forward. “There’s that pretty pout again.”

“You live to torment me, don’t you?”

“Why do you think I wore this dress today?”

The sleeveless salmon-coloured dress stopped way above her knees, which meant it kept riding up whenever she sat. Reba liked to show off her legs, so she didn’t mind that an entire portion of her thigh was showing. The table didn’t provide much cover either. If anyone was so inclined to drink it all in, they were free to do so.

Reba expected Devon to give his usual response of either rolling his eyes or ignoring her flirting entirely. She was in no way prepared for him to also lean across the table, gaze intense, and ask, “For me to wonder what, if anything, you’re wearing under it?”