She considered him a moment, then nodded. “Okay, Ty, you have a deal. You get to feed me and I get to listen.”
“I get the better end of that deal.”
Her brow lifted and she grinned with an almost flirty gleam in her dark eyes. “You haven’t seen me eat.”
Watching Eleanor eat should be X-rated.
Ty was positive he’d never seen a woman take so much delight in food. Most of the women he knew barely picked at the few scraps of lettuce put on their plate, much less actually enjoyed each bite with such unabashed pleasure.
He was also positive that he’d never been turned on at watching a woman eat, but he was turned on.
Majorly turned on.
Each and every time Eleanor’s mouth closed around her fork, her eyes closed and joy lit up her face. Had she moaned with her delight in the food he wouldn’t have been surprised.
She opened her eyes, caught him watching and pink splashed her cheeks. “Sorry.”
“For?”
“Making a glutton of myself. I like to eat. I did warn you.”
“Enjoying your dinner isn’t making a glutton of yourself.”
She pushed her plate back, eyeing the remaining food with regret. “Yeah, but if I want to fit into my dress for my dad’s campaign fund-raiser, I’d best stop.”
Immediately his mind was brought back to the tight red dress that had wrapped around her body so delectably at the ribbon-cutting.
“You fill a dress out just fine.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.” She sighed a bit self-derisively. “I fill it out.”
“Why is that a problem? Admittedly, I’ve only seen you in one dress, but you looked great.” More than great. She’d been hot. “Ever since then I’ve been considering requesting a change to hospital policy just so I can see you in a dress on a regular basis.”
Snorting softly, she toyed with the napkin in her lap. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Hmm?” he asked innocently, knowing he hadn’t been innocent since his sixteenth birthday when he and seventeen-year-old cheerleader Casey Thompson had made out after a football game.
She folded the napkin and placed it neatly in her lap. “Whenever there’s a woman around you just have to spew out compliments.”
“Is it wrong to tell a woman she looks beautiful with her glasses off so that I can see those amazing eyes?”
Those amazing eyes lowered. “I wear my contacts for sports. I just didn’t change back to my glasses afterward, that’s all. Thank you for the compliment, but you don’t have to say things like that. I don’t expect you to.”
Ty considered all she’d said, trying to decide which subject he wanted to tackle. The fact that she wasn’t used to compliments was the one that bugged him most, but for now he opted to go with one that would hopefully have her relaxing again. He wanted her relaxed, wanted her to enjoy their dinner as much as he was.
“What sport do you play?”
Her relief was palpable and he was glad he’d not pushed. He’d liked the easy camaraderie between them, the easy flow of conversation as they discussed everything from the new hospital wing to the New York Knicks, who, to his surprise, Eleanor loved.
“Tennis and racquetball mostly. I was on the swim team and ran track during my high-school years. I still do both, but only for the exercise.”
He picked up her fork, loaded it with food and held it out to her. “Then I’d say you’re allowed to finish your dinner.”
Eyeing the fork of North Atlantic salmon with longing, she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he said temptingly, moving the fork toward her mouth.
“Really, I shouldn’t.” But her eyes said she wanted to.