The Professor (Forbidden Encounters 1)

“I’m sorry. It’s impolite to stare but I can’t help it. This is just…” He sighs. “Being here with you is refreshing. I’m enjoying my time.”

“That’s a relief.” I smile. And I like having him here...in my personal space. I don’t usually like having anyone in my personal space.

“I’ve never had a breakfast date. I like it. This should become a thing.”

Shoveling biscuits into a bowl, I pause. “I don’t usually have the place to myself.”

He shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be here all time. You can come to my place.”

I gulp. “The mayor’s house?”

A small smile lifts his lips. “No. I live alone.”

Still, it’s on the other side of town. We can’t risk anyone finding out about us. Is there even an us? I glance at him. Probably not. I mean, this is just our second date.

“I can practically see the wheels turning in your head.” Bryce chuckles. “Tell you what, let’s not think about that right now. Let’s just live in this moment.”

Nibbling my lower lips, I nod. Live in this moment. I like this moment. Every moment with Bryce feels wonderful. “I can do that.”

He beams at me. “Good.”

“You make stellar coffee and you’re an amazing cook. Marry me, Ab

by.”

In the process of nibbling on bacon, I gasp and begin to choke. I dissolve into a series of sputtering and coughing. “W-what?”

Bryce hurriedly pours out orange juice from the box in the middle of the table and shoves the glass into my hands. He watches me gulp it down. “That was a joke.” Amusement flashes in his eyes but there’s also a glint of concern. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I nod. I’m so embarrassed, I want to melt into the kitchen tiles and never be seen again. Why would I even think he was serious? Bryce must think I’m an idiot. “Fine,” I squeak, unable to look at him.

“I didn’t mean?”

“It’s fine. I knew you were joking.” I didn’t. For a moment I thought he was dead serious. I’m such a fool. As if a man like Bryce would even consider the thought of marrying someone like me. Sure, he likes me. That’s obvious. But when he marries, he’s going to do it with someone from his circle. Likely a rich socialite.

Clearing my throat, I quickly change the subject. “I’m glad you’re enjoying breakfast.” I went all out. Biscuits, omelets, pastries. I have some explaining to do when Lucy gets home and sees the leftovers. I went overboard on the portions out of sheer nervousness. We’ll be eating biscuits and pastries for days.

“You belong in the kitchen.” His eyes fly to me. “I don’t mean that in a sexist, chauvinistic way. You’re just very good in the kitchen... it seems. This is only one meal after all. I’ll have to experience a few more to make a fair judgement.”

“First you angle for a kiss and now you’re angle for more meals.” I shake my head. “Absolutely shameless.”

“Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t catch on.”

Amusement floods me and I’m also flattered. I’m thrilled he enjoys the first meal I’ve made for him. Something about this whole setting feels extremely intimate. Cooking for someone should come way later, at least after several weeks of dating. Right? Yet, here we are, one week in, having breakfast together in my kitchen.

“Uh oh. I’m starting to know that look well. What’s wrong?”

“I feel like we’re moving too fast. Do you think we are?”

Bryce silently watches me for a while. His expression is neutral, giving nothing away. His broad shoulders lift. “I don’t think so. We’re just having breakfast.”

“At my place.”

“We had dinner at mine last night. No big deal.”

“Last night was different. There was a chef and staff. This is…”

“A little more intimate.” He nods. “Yeah, I suppose. But, it isn’t too fast for me. I think when you have a strong connection with someone, it’s different. This feels perfect to me.”