When her plate was clean, he stared at her with an unreadable expression, “I am half-tempted to make you lick the plate.”
“Lick the plate?”
“I worked hard to make your dinner yet I’m feeling you didn’t appreciate my efforts with the way you were pushing it around the plate. I know Hasselbeck potatoes are a favorite of yours. Piccata is definitely a favorite as well. Yet you didn’t eat with the excitement you should have.”
“It was the dinner conversation,” she protested.
“Conversations are always going to happen love. What happens if I prepare a dinner party and you don’t like the topic? Will you push the food around your plate?”
He was being a bit absurd if she were judging but his eyes captivated her.
“I’m sorry,” she felt weirdly compelled to apologize.
He patted his knee, “come h
