It was also something I might have ordered if I’d seen it on a menu—and he’d made it after knowing me for only a little while. But how had he guessed my favorite fruit?

"I get the pepper," I replied, "And the champagne, for the hot tub. But what about the plum?"

"Did you forget that night I gave you the back massage? You were eating a plum then."

I felt my cheeks getting hot. "Oh, right. I’d almost forgotten."

His eyes crinkled as he handed the drink across the bar and lifted his own glass. "To Vegas," he said, his scarred eyebrow arched as if the toast were a question.

"To Vegas," I said, lifting my glass and clinking it to his.

Unsure what to expect from the flavor combination, I sipped the drink tentatively. As soon as it hit my tastebuds, I realized Jax was an even better bartender than I’d given him credit for. The sparkling bubbles hit first, followed by a peppery, fruity burst of flavor that felt edgy and dark, but still refreshing.

It was incredible—a drink I’d have expected to pay way too much for at a bar. I sipped smoothly. "Mmhmm," I said, underplaying how much I liked it. "It’s interesting."

Setting the drink down, I reached for the plate of fruit. Jax grabbed the plate and took it away.

"Hey, I wasn’t finished!" I cried.

He looked at me skeptically. "You were going to eat melon and grapes with that drink?"

"Is that a crime?"

Walking to the food carts with the half-eaten fruit plate, he called back to me. "Not exactly. But I think you could do better. Let me try."

"What do you mean, do better?"

He lifted covers from dishes, one at a time, but shook his head or gave a half-frown to each one. "No, not quite . . ." he muttered at the carts, then raised his head and looked at me. "Don’t you think it’s better to find food that goes together with your drink?"

Shaking my head, I smiled at him. "I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean," I said. "I’ve had wine pairings before, but it’s not magical. It’s just the food and the drink. They taste how they taste."

Jax’s eye lingered a while on one of the dishes, and he set it off to one side of a cart. "Maybe you just haven’t had the right pairing," he said, continuing his search through the feast. "When it’s right, what you’re eating and what you’re drinking don’t just taste how they taste—they taste better. It’s like melody and harmony."

After looking at the last cart, he stacked three of the covered dishes in his arms and brought them to the bar, setting them side by side.

"What did you bring?" I asked.

Jax walked back to the cart and came back with a napkin and fork.

"Only good things," he said, setting the fork next to me from behind.

I reached for one of the dishes and started to lift the cover, but Jax’s hand stretched over mine and pressed it back down. "No," he said, then softened his voice. "Relax. You’re going to let me serve you—and no peeking at the dishes, unless you want the blindfold back on. Understand?"

"Okay . . ." I said, unsure what to think, especially after he’d mentioned the blindfold again. A hint of nervous anticipation crept into my voice as I took my hand off the dish. He tied a napkin around my neck, and the sudden brush of his fingers against my skin made my heart race.

A half-smile played on Jax’s face. "Drink," he insisted, "and then try this first."

He moved the leftmost dish to my place and uncovered it. Three pieces of creamy looking cheese and a few almonds were on the plate.

After a sip of the drink he’d made for me, I took a small piece of cheese and an almond and put them in my mouth together. The cheese had a mild, sweet flavor, with a hint of something that almost tasted like maple, while the almonds gave it a smoky crunch.

"Mm," I said, my mouth still half-full. "That’s good. Really tasty."

He eyed me as I finished the bite of cheese, nodding as I swallowed. "But not as good as this." He replaced the cheese plate with another dish.

Beneath the cover, I saw something I couldn’t figure out. Four wrinkly, thick shell things surrounded some kind of meat. My nose wrinkled slightly, and I sipped at my drink to hide my reaction. "Jax, is this brains, or something?"

He gave me a devilish look. "No. And don’t tell me you’re not brave enough to try it."

I stabbed my fork into one of the wrinkled shells. "Watch me," I said with a laugh, and took a bite.

The bite exploded into my mouth, intensely flavored. The shells themselves were toothsome and rich, with a hint of garlic, while the meat filling them was smooth and almost buttery. "Wow," I said, grabbing another bite. "This one’s even better."

"I’m just glad I could get you eating. It’s morel mushrooms stuffed with foie gras."

"It’s incredible," I said as I picked up another forkful. "By the way, how do you know all of this about food?"

He smiled and shrugged. "Comes with being a rock star."

I swallowed my delicious bite, a little confused by his answer but too focused on the food to care. "Whatever you have under that last cover, save it for Chewie, Sky or Kev. It couldn’t possibly be better than this."

"You have to at least try it. I saved the best for last."

"Fine, then," I agreed. "One bite."

The dish in the center was a little larger than the others, and when he took the cover off, I smelled something, an earthy scent that reminded me somehow of Jax. I saw a sliced duck breast spread into a fan shape, its crackling skin crusted with pepper. A richly-colored sauce—red wine of some sort, I assumed—was drizzled over the top.

"Oh wow," I breathed. "That’s almost too beautiful to eat."

"You’ll have to tell me if it tastes as good as it looks," he said. "But drink first."

I set my fork down and nursed the fruity, peppery drink, closing my eyes to enjoy the bubbles on my tongue. When I finished a few sips, I realized that Jax had picked up my fork and was cutting a piece of the duck breast.

"Did you want some?" I asked.

"This is for you," he said, lifting the fork to my mouth. "Open."

I opened my mouth slightly, and felt the fork gently push past my lips. I bit down, and the fork slid back away, leaving the crisp duck skin and juicy meat on my tongue. The earthy smell was stronger, now, and I tasted it in the dish, something unfathomably deep and complex, dark and pungent. The sauce, sweet and savory in equal parts, kept the earthy taste from dominating.

"Duck with peppercorns, port reduction, and black truffles," Jax said, before I even had to ask.

The truffles must have smelled like him, I realized.

The pepperiness of the duck was echoed in my drink, and I realized I wanted another sip. When I took one, I saw for the first time what Jax meant. The drink and the food both tasted better together than they would have on their own. They almost sparked off each other, bringing new flavor combinations into my mouth that shifted and changed, but never clashed.

I took another bite of the duck breast, and let out a soft moan. "Mmmmm. . ."