“Annoyingly good.”
“Why annoying?” he asked, his brows drawing together.
“Because now I know you can cook, and that makes you more attractive. Which is extremely inconvenient for me.”
His mouth curved. “Tragic.”
For a few minutes, we ate like normal people who were dating. We felt like a couple. Hunter watched me more than he ate.
I pointed my fork at him. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Watching me like you’re personally responsible for my survival,” I laughed.
“I am tonight,” he replied.
“Nope, only my orgasms.”
“Keep that up and I’ll eat you for dessert on this counter,” he warned.
I was left speechless. He made a mock gasp. “Is it possible that Catherine Celia Davis doesn’t have a comeback right now?”
“No, only yes please,” I managed to mutter.
Hunter looked down at his plate, then set his fork down.
“What?” I asked. It felt like the conversation went from sexy to serious, and that caused my stomach to dip, and not in a good way.
His eyes lifted to mine. “Isla comes home in less than two days.”
My stomach dipped. Real life. Right.
“I know,” I said carefully. “Mila does too.”
Was he breaking up with me? We’d barely had enough time together. Was this all a game to him? Was I not good enough? My old self-esteem issues reared their ugly head.
“I miss her,” he said. “A lot.”
“I’m sure you do.” I struggled to keep my cool, but I wouldn’t show him how my heart was shattering into pieces at the thought of us not being together.
“She sent me a letter to tell me she went ziplining and only screamed once,” he chuckled.
I smiled. “That sounds like Isla.”
“She said Mila screamed enough for both of them.”
His smile faded, and the air between us changed again.
“When she’s back, I can’t do this the same way,” he said.
I put my fork down. The words hurt more than I wanted them to, even though they made sense. Of course they made sense. Isla was his daughter. His world. The person he had built his entire life around.
“I know,” I said.
“I don’t mean I don’t want to see you,” he muttered nervously.
“What does it mean?” I asked, keeping my voice even. At least I thought I was doing a good job.