took Meg’s menu as well and bustled away.
She shifted in her seat, glanced around the restaurant, and looked a bit uncomfortable. “So…when we get back, the principal wants to send me to a training for—”
“Hey, none of that.” Finn quickly cut her off. “We are on vacation. No talking about work. Anything else is fair game, but not work.”
Time to push her even further out of colleague mode. She’d see the kiss as a lapse and was now trying to backpedal to familiar ground. He couldn’t let that happen.
He tilted the breadbasket toward her. “Have some more bread and tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
Appearing discomfited, she stuffed a nugget of bread into her mouth. She chewed for a moment before she spoke. “I have a dog named Hugo. He’s a basset hound, and I think he needs Prozac because he has these big, sad eyes and constantly looks as if the world is ending. He sighs like a disappointed grandmother, too.”
Okay, he hadn’t expected that one. Snorting, he leaned back in his chair. “How did you end up with a depressed hound?”
“I went to the pound looking for a perky terrier and ended up with Hugo.” Rueful affection filled her voice. She plucked up another piece of bread and waved it through the air. “He was a dead dog walking, and I couldn’t leave him there to get the needle. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him.”
“Sounds like my cat.” He gave a low laugh.
Disbelief filled her gray gaze. “You have a kitty?”
“An enormous, mean tomcat. No one would call this beast a kitty.” He had the claw marks up and down his arms to prove it every time he tried to give the tom a bath. The groomers refused to touch him anymore. “I inherited him when my mom died because he hates my dad. Seriously, he attacks on sight.”
“Ouch.” She arched her eyebrows. “What’s this terror’s name?”
“George.”
“There was an evil King George in England. George III ruled during the American Revolution. Okay, the U.S. regards him as a tyrant, but I doubt he liked us much, either.” She shook her head. “Sorry, history nerd tangent. I hope I never meet the evil cat.”
“My George would love you,” Finn protested.
“How do you know that? He doesn’t love your dad.”
“Because he’d be dead meat if he attacked you, and George is a master at self-preservation. Mom and Dad let him get away with it. I wouldn’t.” Because he wanted Meg visiting his house. Often. The cat would have to get used to it or he’d be locked outside more often than he liked. In the rain.
The waiter arrived with their meal, and there was a moment of reverent silence as they took the first bite.
“Mmm.” Meg moaned, an expression of utter ecstasy molding her features. She shut her eyes, her tongue sliding out in a slow, sensual sweep to lick her lips.
Finn’s cock stiffened at the look on her face, reminding him that he hadn’t gotten to finish what they’d started in his room. Jesus, what he wouldn’t give to see her wearing that exact expression in his bed.
She glanced at him and froze, no doubt noticing his hunger now had little to do with food.
He let a small smile kick up the corner of his mouth. “You’re amazingly beautiful, Meg. I’ve never gotten hard watching a woman eat before.”
A flush washed up her cheeks, heated awareness flashing in her eyes. Her gaze dropped as if she might see his erection through the table, but he was grateful for the cover. It was one thing to want her—another to embarrass himself in public.
“I…I don’t know what to say. What happened upstairs was—”
“Not something we need to discuss over lunch.” The last thing he wanted was to hear her tell him about it being a mistake. He took a gulp of iced tea, hoping it would cool him down. “Enjoy your sandwich, Meg. Don’t mind me if I enjoy you enjoying it.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Pervert.”
“You’re welcome.” He toasted her with his glass, and then