The Scramble: A Single in Seattle Novella by Kristen Proby

Author:Kristen Proby [Proby, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Single in Seattle, 1001 Dark Nights, Kristen Proby, contemporary romance
Publisher: 1001 Dark Nights Press
Published: 2022-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Dylan

“I can’t eat shark.”

Maddie stares at the food on my fork in absolute horror.

“Why? It’s fish.”

“It’s not fish. It’s shark.”

“I hate to break it to you, but it’s a traditional food here, and it’s really just fish.”

I eat the bite and swallow as she stares on in concern. “See? Fish.”

I decided tonight was a good night to take Maddie into Reykjavík for the evening to tour the city and make our way through the restaurants.

A food walk of sorts.

We started with cocktails and appetizers and are now having our entrées at one of my favorite places in the city.

“I’d like to try the fish stew,” she says, shaking her head and peering down at the menu.

“Are you a picky eater?”

“I never thought so.” She takes a sip of water as if she has to get rid of the taste of shark, even though she hasn’t had any.

God, she’s fucking adorable.

“You must eat all kinds of food since you travel so much.”

“Yeah, there’s not much I haven’t tried. If shark makes you queasy, you probably don’t want to go to places in Asia where they eat bugs and stuff.”

Her skin goes a little green at the thought, and I laugh.

“I think you’re safe with the stew. And we’ll get some bread. After this, we have to walk down the street to get a traditional Icelandic hotdog.”

Maddie blinks in surprise. “A hotdog? I thought that was an American thing.”

“I don’t know the history of the hotdog,” I admit thoughtfully and take another bite of the shark. “But I can tell you that they’re famous here.”

“Nice, I like a hotdog now and then. Wait.” Her face sobers. “Is it made out of shark and lamb head?”

The server interrupts us, and Maddie requests stew and bread. When we’re alone once more, I smile at her.

“First of all, the hotdog stand is tiny—like something you’d see on the street in New York. It’s been there for more than eighty years, and it’s never missed a day of being open, no matter the weather.”

“Wow.” She looks impressed, so I keep going.

“Second, I do know that while American hotdogs are made of pork or beef—sometimes chicken—Icelandic hotdogs are made from lamb meat. But not the head. And no shark. It looks like a regular hotdog, Maddie.”

“Okay.” She sits back as the server sets a steaming bowl of soup with crusty bread and butter before her. “Wow, this looks good.”

“Yeah, it does.”

She tries a bite and then looks up at me in surprise. “It is good.”

“Told you.”

She digs in, and I enjoy watching her eat. She’s not shy about it, and it’s refreshing.

“How’s the bread?”

She takes a bite and then sighs the way she does when I’m buried deep inside her, and she’s about to come.

It makes me squirm in my seat.

“Damn, I think they made this fresh. Today.”

“It’s likely.”

I grin, glad she’s enjoying her meal. We take our time with it, and when we’re ready to leave, Maddie takes my hand and leans her head on my shoulder as we walk out into the brisk evening air.

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