Free Hungry for More (2012) by Chelsea Scott, D. Oland, J. Welch Page A

to eat your father’s food,” he nodded, obviously charmed by Tad.  Bridget was glad; she couldn’t believe that the maitre’d himself was setting their table.  “Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered, having finished with the utensils.
    “Could Tad have a glass of water, please?”
    “Of course. And for yourself, Mademoiselle?”
    “Oh, nothing for-”
    “She’ll need a glass of the good Australian Chardonnay, the Millamolong Reisling, Georges-Pierre.”
    “Of course,” the maitre’d nodded at Paul and then disappeared.
    “Is that the shark , Daddy?” Tad gasped gleefully, peering at the plates that his father had just carried to the table.
    “It is,” Paul grinned.  “Basted with lemon juice, garlic and butter, and grilled over charcoal.”
    Bridget was pleased that Paul was learning to use words that Tad could identify, even if she was beginning to panic at the sight of two plates of food.
    “I hope you both realize that these have to come back to the kitchen empty if I ever hope to show my face at work again.” Paul winked, setting the mouthwatering dish in front of Bridget and Tad.
    Bridget stared down at the steaming platter and tried to stop the rumbling in her stomach. She swallowed hard, and then looked up at Paul, who was watching her with rapt attention.
    “Go on!” he said.
    Bridget used her knife to cut off a tiny piece, which she held on the tip of her fork. She stared at the flaky meat. She was hardly a gourmet, but she could tell that it was cooked to perfection, and the smell was amazing.
    Paul was still staring. His eyes were tracing the path from the fork to her mouth, urging her to take the bite. It hovered, indecisively- and then she saw her way out.
    “Oh! Tad! I’m sorry- Nanny needs to cut it for you!”
    In truth, the fish was flaky enough that he might have managed, but she seized the distraction.
    “Is it really shark, Nanny?” Tad asked, practically quivering with excitement.
    “Yes,” she told him as she loaded a bite into onto his fork. “Aren’t you a lucky boy? You get to bite a shark instead of having a shark bite you.”
    She popped the morsel into his mouth, and then watched for his reaction. Thankfully, it was a good one.
    “It’s YUMMY, D addy!” Tad said and opened his mouth like a baby bird, begging another bite.
    “I think you have another hit,” Bridget said, smiling as she obligingly fed the child. Paul smiled tightly, “Well, that’s half of you I’ve pleased then,” he said and looked at her intently. “Now, what do you think?”
    “What do I? Oh…I…I’m just…” Bridget fumbled for an escape. She knew from Tad’s reaction that the food was going to be good. She’d never be able to stop at a delicate mouthful, and she’d simply die if Paul saw her stuff her face. “I…er…had so much breakfast…I never dreamed…maybe I could just take it home?”
    “Surely you can try one bite? It won’t taste as good heated up.”
    “Oh, but I…” Bridget twisted her fork, salivating as she looked at the delicate morsel it held. “I’m…er…allergic.”
    “You’re allergic to seafood?” Paul asked. He plucked the fork out of her hand and started to reach for the plate, when he paused, “But…the kippers?”
    “Only some seafood…” Bridget said, knowing that she must sound foolish.
    “You didn’t mention it before.”
    “But…it’s really not that big of a deal…” S he was starting to feel idiotic, “You know…er…I just get a little rash…I’ve never had shark and maybe…”
    She averted her eyes from Paul, concentrating instead on Tad, who had nearly wolfed down his entire portion.
    “I see.”
    Paul didn’t see. She could tell from his brooding expression. He thought that she simply didn’t want his food. Nothing could be further from the truth, but she didn’t know how to tell him that.
    “It smells delicious.”
    “It’s no big deal,” Paul said tersely, and picked up her plate. Tad had a