Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch Read Free Book Online Page A

without prompting. “Hey!” he exclaimed, “These are just like potato chips!”
    It was Paul’s turn to be amused, “That’s what they are , silly.”
    “But potato chips come out of a bag!”
    “Potato chips come from a potato ,” Paul responded firmly.
    “You should try one, Nanny!” Tad urged, tempting her with one steaming, golden-brown crisp. It smelled so good that she was practically drooling!
    “Nanny is going to have her own,” Paul responded, setting down a second plate.
    Bridget’s smile disappeared as it was slid in front of her. She licked her lips, imagining what it would be like to actually eat the meal: the crisp, salty slivers of potato…the crusty, buttery bread…the creamy cheese…
    It took a lot of effort to push the meal away.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound as contrite as possible, “But…I really can’t eat it. Thank you for the effort but-“
    “Why not?” Paul snapped. His expression was truly terrifying when he was annoyed.
    Bridget shrank down in her seat. “I’m…er…”she bit her lip as she fumbled for an excuse. She couldn’t very well own up to the fact that she’d already downed two day’s worth of calories in a fifteen-minute binge! As far as Paul knew, she hadn’t eaten all day! “I’m…on a slimming regime, actually,” she told him, “It’s really tempting though.”
    “ You’re on a diet?” Paul asked. He looked honestly gobsmacked. She had to love him a little for that. “Why?”
    She looked down at the counter, avoiding his gaze. Of course, it was painfully obvious. She was five-foot four and a size sixteen American ! Obviously she could afford to lose a pound…or forty.
    Atherton spared her the need to respond. “Nanny never eats anything ,” he announced, helpfully. Bridget breathed a sigh of relief, but it was too soon. Tad quickly continued, “Except biscuits! One time we were having tea and N anny ate the whole box. ”
    “Tad!” Bridget snapped, humiliated. She lied: “I did not!”
    “Eat your food,” Paul said quietly, apparently picking up on her discomfort. “I’ll make you a salad,” he told Bridget, “Oil and vinegar dressing okay?”
    “Hold the oil,” she said miserably as he took away the sandwich. A few minutes later he replaced it with a bowl of greens.
    Ordinarily, Bridget wouldn’t have dared to put so much as one bite of food into her mouth when someone was watching- especially when that someone was an attractive man! However, she was feeling guilty for snubbing the sandwich, and decided that she must look like a martyr anyways, having turned down the buttery treat. Feeling painfully self-conscious, she picked up her fork and took a bite.
    Paul Devoe must have earned his reputation as an amazing chef. This was the first time in her entire life that Bridget could say that she was honestly enjoying a salad!
    She didn’t know what kinds of greens he had used. The dark, smooth leaves were unfamiliar to her, but she did recognize the crunch of bok choy that he had used instead of croutons, and the pleasant bite of a very high-quality balsamic vinegar that had been applied as dressing.
    “Well?” Paul asked.
    Bridget looked up, surprised to find that he was waiting on her reaction.
    “It’s delicious!” she told him- and there was no doubt that she meant it. She was still stuffed to bursting from her apartment binge, but she managed to finish the salad in a shamefully short amount of time.
    Bridget insisted on doing the dishes (shamefully scarfing down the leftover portion of Tad’s chips and sandwich when she was finally alone, and unsurprised to find that it was completely amazing!). When she finished, she was shocked and unexpectedly upset, to discover that Paul had changed to head in to work.
    “You’re leaving?” she asked, hoping that she didn’t sound as disappointed to Paul as she did to herself.
    “I’m late,” he responded, looking stressed and distracted. “I should have been