Wild for Him

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WITH a slight frown, Ben Cabrera glanced down at the formal place setting arranged in front of him, silently contemplating the array of forks, spoons, and knives laid out for him to use. Even for a casual lunch meeting for three, the large, long dining table had been lavishly decorated with painstaking perfection, with a white lace-edged tablecloth, three extravagant bouquets of fresh flowers, and unlit tapered candles in two matching silver candelabras flanking each end of the table. Then there was the expensive, gold-rimmed china he was supposed to eat off of, the cloth napkins that had been folded into a fancy, intricate design, and the delicate crystal glasses with stems that looked so fragile he was certain he'd snap them in two with his fingers if he wasn't careful.

The thought nearly made him wince. As an ex-Marine who'd fought in the Iraq War, he was more used to rowdy mess halls and MRE field rations. After his last tour of duty had ended and he'd returned to the States, he'd settled into a bachelor existence, preferring take-out or prepackaged food and paper plates that didn't require a whole lot of thought or cleanup. As a security agent, he'd honestly never been in a situation where his dining etiquette was called into question.

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