Nodding, I flip the omelets. “Favorite food?”
“Your cooking.” He says it so simply, so genuinely, that my cheeks flush. “Before this? I don't know. I ate whatever was convenient. Takeout mostly. The occasional protein bar at my desk.”
My nose crinkles up. I hate those overpriced bars. So tiny, and they always taste fake and leave me starving. “That's terrible for you.”
Seth shrugs. “I know. My cardiologist gave me a lecture about it. Said my diet was contributing to the inflammation around my heart.” He says it casually, but I catch the way his hand drifts to his chest. “These past two weeks, eating real food, the food we’ve made... I can feel the difference.”
I plate the omelets, setting one in front of him along with fresh fruit and whole-grain toast. “What kind of difference?”
“More energy. Less brain fog. My digestion is better.” He takes a bite and makes a low moan of appreciation that goes right to my core, which clenches.
“And my resting heart rate has dropped eight beats per minute,” he continues, unaware of how much I want him.
Then his words filter through my lust, and I blink in surprise. “Really?”
“Really. My watch tracks it.” He shows me his phone and the health app with all its data. “See? On day one, average resting heart rate was seventy-eight. Yesterday it was seventy.”
I study graphs showing the steady downward trend of all his numbers. Blood pressure, resting heart rate, and even his stress levels measured by something called heart rate variability.
“Seth, this is amazing,” I gush with a smile. “You're actually getting better.”
“We're getting me better.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I couldn't do this without you, Jennifer. The walks, the food, the way you physically stop me from checking emailbefore nine...” He grins. “You're as much a part of this as the medication.”
My cheeks burn at his compliments. “I'm just cooking and walking with you.”
“You always do that.” He sets his fork down as he studies me. “Diminish yourself. Why?”
I shrug. “I'm just being realistic.”
“No, you're not. You're being self-deprecating. There's a difference.” He leans forward. “You know what I see when I look at you?”
Not trusting my voice, I shake my head.
“I see someone who works hard and still makes time to be kind. Someone who notices when people are struggling and tries to help, even when they snap at her. Someone who literally saved my life by forcing me to take it seriously.” His eyes hold mine. “I see someone worth knowing. Worth keeping.”
My throat feels tight. “Seth...”
“I'm going to prove it to you,” he says quietly. “However long it takes.”
And looking into those intense blue eyes, I almost believe him.
CHAPTER NINE
SETH
Jennifer arrives at exactly eight a.m. and I smile from my place at the door with her cup of coffee in hand. I admit I was rather insufferable yesterday in how I handled her lateness. When eight came and went and she didn’t show up, I was gripped with worry. First and foremost that something had happened to her outside of her control. That thought was quickly dismissed, and instead irrational fear took its place.
Surely what I felt wasn’t one-sided. We kissed, held hands constantly, chatted and ate together, and did all the things a couple learning about each other would. Why would she act like that unless she was as attracted to me as I was to her?
No, her lateness was an innocent mistake on her part, not some power play to put me in my place. Jennifer was too pure and sweet to ever behave like that, let alone think that way.
Yes, perhaps our relationship was a tad on the stranger side, but I wasn’t that well versed when it came to successful relationships. So what did I truly know about love and dating? All I did know was how right she felt in my arms and how me leaving here without her at the end of the month wasn’t happening.
I’m not proud of my temper or how I flew off the handle with her. I’m a man previously known for my control. Ironclad control cost me dearly. Years of painfully rigid control andsuppressed stress that silently did damage to my heart. Jennifer is helping to heal the damage with her care and cooking, while her company heals the nonphysical part of my heart.
As she walks up to the cabin, I give a satisfied nod. No more control and no more waiting.
“Good morning.” I hand her the cup, adoring the way her eyes light up.
