“A keeper, huh?” Jessica said, grinning at Sed, who was looking very pleased with himself.
He cocked his head slightly, looking so sexy that Jessica had to cling to her squishy chair to keep from leaping across the table and tackling him.
“Was there ever any doubt?” he asked.
She chuckled. “Not in your mind.”
Jessica felt increasingly light-headed and she realized that the balloon was free of its tethers and rising. She hadn’t even felt it lift off. The burner roared as Gary pulled some rope that made the flames shoot high into the interior of the balloon.
“I’d think the thing would catch fire,” Jessica said nervously.
“You’re safe,” Sed murmured.
He always made her feel safe. “I know.”
She watched the earth slowly fall away as Sed rattled around in the basket and produced a pair of plates, utensils, and champagne flutes. She melted when she saw that their toasting glasses were engraved with a pair of wedding rings tied together with a ribbon, her and Sed’s names, and the date. He’d thought of everything. He really was a keeper. Well, most days. Some days he was positively infuriating, but those days were becoming increasingly rare.
“I’m not sure how much I can eat after all that cake at the reception.”
“I think you’ll manage,” he said.
He stood to get the food from the coolers. First he scooped tossed salad on her salad plate, then he opened the hot food containers. When she reached toward a spoon to help herself to some delicious-smelling herbed risotto, Sed snatched the spoon away from her.
“Allow me,” he said.
“Sed, I can serve myself.”
“I never doubted it,” he said. “But just because you can doesn’t mean you have to. Let me take care of you tonight. Without argument. It would really mean a lot to me.”
She drew her eyebrows together. “Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
“I care about you too, but I don’t feel the need to serve you to demonstrate it.”
“Well, tonight I do have that need. Can you handle it? Someone who loves you trying to take care of you?”
“I never said I couldn’t handle it.”
But as he filled her plate with food, she had to admit that it did bother her. She’d promised herself long ago that she’d never allow a man to rule her life and for some reason, this felt like a step in that direction.
“Can I serve you?” she asked, thinking that might make her feel a bit more comfortable about allowing him to choose how much and what kind of food she would receive.
“You can service me,” he said, his voice gruff with desire.
Jessica pursed her lips. Was he trying to get a rise out of her? She knew her temper turned him on, but she really didn’t want to argue tonight. Especially not here, where everything was so romantic due to his thoughtfulness.
“I think I’ll let you service me,” she retorted.
“I am willing, if not able,” he said with a crooked grin. “The table is kind of low for me to get at you properly. Wasn’t the shower enough?”
“You know I never get enough of you.”
He grinned cockily and opened another container of food. The scents of basil and garlic, tomato and oregano stirred her appetite. She loved tortellini and couldn’t wait to see what it was stuffed with.
When he had Jessica’s plate full and arranged as he wanted it, Sed took his seat again. Everything looked and smelled delicious and the tortellini was stuffed with mushrooms and sausage—her favorite combination, which she was certain was not a coincidence. Still, she picked at her food, hardly sampling a bite.
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Sed said, having no qualms about devouring his own dinner.
“What bothers me?”
“The fact that I fixed your plate.”
“What bothers me is that you decided what I wanted and how much and where on my plate it should go.”
“I know you don’t like me to make decisions for you, but don’t you think you’re over-reacting?”
“Probably,” she admitted. “But I can’t help it.”
“Try,” he challenged. “Learn to compromise.”
“You don’t compromise either,” she said, spearing a bit of yellow squash and popping it into her mouth.
“I compromise with you more than I’ve ever had to compromise with anyone else,” he said. “The problem is, we both like to be in charge.”
She couldn’t argue with that. It was blatantly obvious.
“So if you let me be in charge every once in a while, I’ll let you be in charge occasionally, and we’ll both have that need met. The rest of the time we can butt heads and argue if you like.”
“I don’t like to argue,” she said.
“Right,” he said, the word twisted with sarcasm. “And I’m sure that’s why you became an attorney. Because you hate arguing so much you decided to do it for a living.”
She flushed as she realized he was totally right. She loved to argue. In fact, no one argued with her the way Sed did. And few men would have been strong enough to give it to her as good as she gave it. Most men were afraid to cross her. Not because she was scary, but because they were attracted to her and thought by bending to her will, she’d be more likely to give them what they wanted. But not Sed. Sed pushed her relentlessly. It was one of the things she loved most about him. And the very thing about him that drove her crazy.
“So I like to argue,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not the only one. You like to argue too.”