“I hope so.”
“You are.”
He lets go of the pan and turns toward me. “I love you, Cassie.”
My heart seizes. It thuds so hard I can hear it in my head. “I love you too.”
The pan sizzles. I wrinkle my nose as a burning smell wafts across the room.
“Oh, shit,” he cries.
I’m the worst girlfriend in the world when I laugh and back away.
He turns off the element and pulls the pan from the heat. “I guess it’s time to eat.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?”
His eyes narrow. “I’ll make you pay for that.”
“I’m sure you will.”
He nods toward the dining table. “Go and take a seat and I’ll serve this up.”
I do as he asks and smile as he places a plate in front of me. It doesn’t look too bad, but the steak is a little scorched. If it were barbecue, it’d look perfect.
He sits across from me.
I pick up my knife and fork and make the first cut—at least I try to. I can’t meet his gaze as, even with a steak knife, I have to slide the knife back and forward until I cut a slice.
He watches as I raise it to my mouth and slip it in.
And then I chew. And chew. It takes a while, but finally I’ve chewed it enough to swallow. “You know, this isn’t too bad. Just a little tough.”
He snorts. “It’s not great. You don’t have to pretend.”
“But it’s made with love.” I flutter my eyelashes at him before laughing and soon he’s joining in.
“So, pizza?”
I place my hand on my heart. “I thought you’d never ask.”
His eyes grow sad, and he lets out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Cassie. I wanted tonight to be perfect.”
“It is.”
Patrick’s eyebrows rise.
“No, it really is,” I say. “The only thing that matters is that we’re here together. That’s all. Maybe next time I can cook for you.”
His lips twitch into a smile. “Do you remember when you entered that baking competition and won with that chocolate cake you made? And then we took off with it and ate the whole thing between us?”
“We were ten.”
He laughs. “You were always better at that kind of thing than me. I had two left hands.”
“Maybe I can teach you to cook.”
“Maybe when we move in together.”
