“Where are we going, anyway? You said you don’t go out to eat.”
“I don’t,” he said, ignoring her first question. He wanted to surprise her.
A short while later, they stopped outside of a Beacon Hill town house, the home of one of the finest French and Italian fusion restaurants in Boston. Instead of pulling up to the valet, Brody drove around back and entered a private parking lot.
“Are we really going into a restaurant?” Sam asked. “With people in it?”
“Not exactly.” Brody had made special arrangements for a private service. He’d done this once before when Wade brought Tori to Boston, and it had worked out well. He opened the back door and she stepped inside ahead of him. “Take the first right,” he said.
Sam turned down the first hallway and they went through a door marked “PRIVATE.” The room beyond it was small. At most it could seat four people. A crescent-shaped table extended from the wall. It was draped in white linens and lit with several candles. There were two place settings and two chairs waiting for them.
Brody helped her into her chair at the table and took his own seat. The wall they were facing had a small window with what looked like wooden shutters over it. He reached forward and tapped at the blinds. Less than a minute later, the doors opened and someone reached through to place two glasses of white wine on the table.
“What is this place?” Sam asked. “Are there no menus? No waiters?”
“This restaurant does private chef’s tastings. Small groups are invited back here to eat some of the best food in the city. They only take one reservation a night. It’s as close as you can get to the action without eating in the kitchen itself. I think you’ll like it.”
“No one is going to come in the room?”
“Not if they want my generous tip. The only person we will see is the chef. The executive chef presents the food and talks with the diners about what he’s prepared.”
“Can the chef see us?”
“Yes,” Brody said. “But I’m not worried about it. The room is dark enough. He’s only going to be interested in what he’s serving us.”
Sam smiled and sipped her wine. “I was wondering how you would pull this off.”
“I thought about renting out an entire restaurant, but this seemed more…intimate.” Brody took advantage of the dim lighting and private room to lean in and press his lips against Sam’s neck.
She sighed and tipped her head to the side to give him better access. “It certainly has its benefits,” she said.
The window opened again and Brody pulled away. The executive chef leaned through the opening and presented them both with a salmon plate with dill and caviar, the first of several courses. Each plate included a perfectly paired wine. It took nearly two hours to complete the tasting, but Brody enjoyed every minute of it. Because Sam did.
He liked watching her face light with excitement as each new course came out. There were a few things she’d never had before, but she was brave enough to try everything and enjoyed almost all of it. Brody ran the risk of some people seeing him while he was here, but it was worth it.
Sam deserved a decadent night out and more. She had changed his entire world since he met her. And last night had been one of the most incredible nights of his life. He’d dreamed of that moment since he was fifteen years old, and nothing he’d imagined in all that time could compare with the reality.
She did everything in her power to make that night special for him. There was no way he could ever repay her for that. But he would try. If everything fell into place the way he hoped, he had a special surprise in store for her.
The chef served their last course and thanked them for joining him. Brody shook his hand and passed him a credit card to cover dinner and gratuity. They were now left alone to enjoy their trio of canneles. He took his first bite, letting the hazelnut cream melt on his tongue. A moment later, he felt Sam’s hand on his thigh.
It seemed as though Sam had a special surprise in store for him, too. He had difficulty swallowing his next bite as her fingers kneaded the muscles, inching ever higher. Brody looked over at Sam. To see her sitting there, she was quietly eating her dessert. If anyone were to see them, they would never suspect that her hand had dipped into his lap.
“Mmm…” she said. She turned to him with a smile and licked the last of the ice cream from her spoon. “The brown butter one is really good.” Her dark eyes fixed on him, the elegant line of her brow arching up. “So, do you like it, Brody?”