“Fuck!”
“What is it?” I called. “Did you stub your naked dick on the kitchen counter?”
“No. I ruined dinner.”
I hauled myself to my feet, brushed the wrinkles out of my skirt, and went to the kitchen. He stood with his hands on his hips and glared at the now-cold dinner as if he could heat it up with his laser-beam stare. “I wanted tonight to be special,” he muttered.
I stroked his arm, and he leaned into my touch. “Itwasspecial. You planned such a beautiful dinner.” Though it wasn’t beautiful anymore. The balsamic sauce had soaked into the chicken, turning it an odd purple color, and the risotto looked gluey. “Why don’t you put on clothes, and we can eat salad and dessert.” My cheeks heated when I saw the smear of chocolate mousse on the counter and remembered what it had led to.
His shoulders heaved as he sighed. “All right.”
He went back into the living room. Tossing Savannah’s lovely chicken and risotto into the trash made my heart hurt, but it had sat at room temperature for too long, and neither of us could afford to get food poisoning between our heavy workloads and holiday obligations. I pulled the salad out of the refrigerator and tossed it in the dressing, then divided it onto two plates.
Cole padded back into the kitchen in a pair of navy sweatpants and an elementary-school 5K T-shirt that fit tight across his chest. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.”
He poured cabernet into a pair of stemmed glasses and set them on the small table. In the center was a bud vase that held a trio of red roses. He lit a pair of candles next to the vase and then pulled out a chair for me. “Wow.” I sank into the chair. “This is nice.”
“I wanted everything to be perfect.” He caressed my shoulder. “For you.”
I covered his hand with mine and turned my head to kiss his wrist. “Itisperfect. Thank you.” He squeezed my shoulder and then released it.
After fetching the salad plates, he sat in the other chair. “Bon appétit.”
I shivered. “Is this going to be enough food for you? I imagine you’re the kind of guy who burns thousands of calories a day.”
“It’s fine. Besides, I already ate.” He smirked and picked up his fork.
I squeezed my thighs together. “I remember.” I was glad to be back to the flirtatious teasing, without the scary L-word. I speared some salad on my fork and popped it into my mouth. The lettuce was crunchy, and there were tangy dried cherries alongside salty bits of goat cheese, plus toasted almonds. Savannah’s signature sour-sweet balsamic dressing tied everything together deliciously. I hummed with satisfaction.
His gaze snagged mine. “Will you stay tonight?”
I swallowed. He’d asked me to sleep over, not to marry him. It would be no different from the nights I’d slept in his hotel room in Costa Rica. Or not slept, actually, because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. “Okay.”
He nodded and took another bite of his salad. “Do you have plans next weekend? I’ll have Caitlyn. We could go to a museum or the beach.”
“Friday is Christmas,” I reminded him. “My family has scheduled activities all weekend. Church, Christmas light viewing, baking cookies, you know.”
“Right.” He stabbed at his salad. “Could I meet your family sometime?”
“Um.” I blinked away visions of my sisters squealing and my mother calling the church secretary to check for openings onthe wedding calendar. “It’s been a long time since they’ve met anyone I’ve dated. They might get overexcited.”
“Have you told them about us yet?”
I set down my fork and hid my trembling fingers in my lap. “Not yet. I was waiting to see how things went, you know? Besides, the fewer people who know about this, the better.” Something flashed across his face. Fearing it might have been hurt, I said, “I’d love for them to meet you. Maybe after the holidays. After the ninety days are up.”
“Is it the age difference?”
“You mean, am I hesitating to introduce you to my family because you’re younger than me? My sisters will definitely make a big deal about it. They’re relentless. Do I care?” I tipped up my chin. “No.”
“And what about your parents?”
“They’d be ecstatic I’m finally…” How to end that?In a relationshipsounded overconfident.
“Happy?” he supplied.
“Exactly.” Iwashappy around him. The new-relationship energy we had was intoxicating. The only thing that dimmed it was anticipating the terrible things that might happen if we were found out at work.
