I go for the spill-proof options of bread and cheese. Kayden fills his plate with a variety of items he then tries to feed me. “Try this,” he says, picking up a ravioli. I let him feed me the bite, and the creamy, cheesy center has me moaning in delight. “That’s not the way to keep my mind on business,” Kayden warns, his lips curving. “And pasta and cheese is not the way to keep me from outgrowing the clothes you bought me,” I counter, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. “I promise to help you work it off,” he says, offering me another bite. “No,” I say firmly. “No more.” A waiter passes and I hand him Kayden’s plate. Kayden arches a brow. “You know I wasn’t done, right? I laugh. “Oops. I’ll get you another.” He shackles my waist, holding me in front of him, his mood suddenly darker. “Why haven’t you asked me about Lino?” “Because just like I think we both needed to know I could call you just to call today, I think you need to know that I trust you enough not to need details.”
