Because I’m not sure I’m that kind of person?

Because I don’t have a family of my own anymore?

“You’re full of surprises.” I use the edge of my fork to cut my chicken. I feel like he could do the same to my heart right now. They’re both fall-off-the-bone tender. “Tell me more. About you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with an easy one. Favorite color.”

He looks at me. Eyes searching mine for a beat.

“Blue. You?”

“Purple. Favorite travel destination.”

“Anywhere with good food. Current favorite is Nashville. Honorable mention for New Orleans and Asheville. Guess I have a thing for the ’villes these days. But I have a feeling your favorite spot is more far-flung than my picks.”

“It is.” I nod. “I love London for the literary history, but Paris will always have my heart. What’s your favorite book?”

“Probably the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Or The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss.”

Rain is pelting against the windows now. The storm made it dark outside earlier than usual; I can see our reflection in the panes.

I raise a brow. “You’re a fantasy guy.”

“I am. Don’t have a ton of time to read for pleasure anymore, but when I do, yeah. It’s Potter or George R.R. Martin. Some horror, too. Big Stephen King fan.” He sets down his fork and puts a hand on his belly. “Whew.”

Nodding at his plate, I ask, “Are you gonna finish that?”

He grins. Nudges the plate toward me, his fingers brushing mine.

“All yours, Julia.” He watches, lips curled into that handsome as hell grin, as I clear his plate. “What about you? What’s your favorite romance?”

“Way too hard to pick.”

“If you had to. Gun to your head.”

I chew thoughtfully for a moment. “I love super feel-y romance. Books that give you that delicious ache in your chest, you know? For a historical—I’d say Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas. So, so great. As far as contemporary, I’d say my current favorite is Landslide by Kathryn Nolan. Or The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. Then there’s Kennedy Ryan’s stuff. It’s pretty damn incredible—I teach her books a lot in my classes. Tessa Bailey’s cop romances slay me in the best way. Oh! To go back to historicals, I adore Elizabeth Hoyt—she writes slinky, feely sex like no one else—and you know, our very own Olivia is working her way up the ranks, too. My Enemy the Earl will be a perennial favorite of mine. I love how that book explored themes of self-determination and choosing authenticity over expectation. Powerful stuff.”

Greyson is still looking at me. But now his grin is in his eyes, too. Gives his expression this wistfulness. This…

Adoration.

My stomach dips.

“What?” I say, turning back to my food.

“Nothing.” From the corner of my eye I see him shake his head. “No, wait, it’s not nothing. Julia, you light up the whole fucking room with your passion. Your ideas. I’ve—I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything like it.”