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Devlin & Gwen: Preparing the Way by Gwen McKenna and Devlin O'Neill

I just love Bullfinches. It's such romantic restaurant, with low lighting and pillar candles on all the tables. Candlelight glints off vintage china and crystal, with potted trees and antique room dividers to help block the tables from one another, and on this particular evening I was grateful for that small bit of privacy. On any other evening, I would have cuddled close against Devlin as we sat in our favorite booth, but tonight, even though we were sitting side by side, I sat stiff and straight and tried to keep my distance.

"How's your lobster bisque, princess?"

"Fine."

I knew Devlin hated one-word answers, but I didn't care. I wanted him to know that I was still pouting. I swirled my spoon in the thick stew and shifted my weight.

"You're not eating. Don't you like it?"

"It's OK."

He sliced off an inch of baked tentacle and held it on his fork. I shifted the other way, attempting to relieve my discomfort. ...

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