Emma:God don’t tease me. 7 o’clock already feels too far away.
Emma:What should I bring?
Me:Just yourself.
Emma:And my devastating charm and good looks?
Me:Those are a given.
Emma:See you at 7
I set my phone in the cupholder and start the Subaru, the engine humming to life. The drive back to Dark River is a couple hours, winding highway through forest and farmland, but I don’t mind. I’ve got a menu to prep, a table to set, and a woman I can’t stop thinking about waiting at the end of it.
My kitchen smells like roasted garlic and brown butter, chanterelles sizzling in the pan, fresh pasta drying on the rack by the window. The sun has dipped below the horizon, painting the sky over the sound in shades of orange and pink and deep purple, the view stretching out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that sold me on this place the moment I first walked through.
I check the artichokes in the oven, golden and crisp, almost done, and give the pasta water a stir. Everything is on track. The table is set with candles and cloth napkins, the bottle of chilled Chardonnay on the counter. Most people serve white wine at refrigerator temperature, around 40 degrees, which is too coldfor a great bottle like I’m serving. Halfway between room and fridge temp is ideal, and I want tonight to be perfect.
The doorbell rings, and I wipe my hands on a dish towel, take a breath, and go to answer it.
She’s standing on my porch in jeans and a soft cream-colored sweater, her red hair loose around her shoulders. She’s smiling at me like she’s been counting down the minutes, and I realize I’ve been doing the same.
I pull her inside and kiss her before she can say anything, because I’ve been thinking about kissing her since the last time I kissed her, and the surprised laugh she gives against my mouth is the best sound I’ve heard all week. She melts into me, her hands coming up to grip the front of my shirt, and I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her there, just breathing her in.
“Hi,” she says when I finally let her go, slightly breathless, her cheeks flushed.
“Hi.” I reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my thumb brushing along her cheekbone. Her skin is so soft. The softest I’ve ever felt. “Come in.”
She steps past me into the entryway and looks around, taking in the space. I watch her face as she does, feeling a little nervous in a way I wasn’t expecting. This is my home. The place I’ve built for myself and Chloe. Bringing Emma into it feels significant in a way I can’t quite articulate.
I’m proud of this house. It was an older place when I bought it, a bit run-down, but I’ve put years of work into it. Refinished the hardwood floors myself, knocked out a wall to open up the living space, replaced the windows with new ones that stretch across the entire back wall and let in the light. The kitchen flows into the living room, all warm wood and exposed beams, and beyond the windows the yard slopes down toward the trees and the glittering expanse of the Puget Sound in the distance.
“Theo,” she says, turning in a slow circle, her eyes wide. “This place is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I close the door behind her and lean against it,watching her take it all in. She looks right here. Like she belongs in this space, in my life. “I’ve put a lot of work into it over the years.”
“Well it shows. It’s incredible.” She looks up at the beamed ceiling, the pendant lights I installed last summer, then inhales deeply. “Wait, what is that smell? It’s amazing. I’m already starving.”
“Good.” I take her hand, leading her into the kitchen. “Because I plan on feeding you very, very well.”
She follows me into the kitchen, her eyes moving over the spread on the counter, the fresh pasta draped over the drying rack, the chanterelles glistening with butter in the pan. Her mouth falls open a little. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.” She presses a hand to her chest dramatically, and I laugh.
“I hope it lives up to expectations,” I say. “Glass of wine?”
“Yes.” She leans against the counter, watching me. “I could definitely go for that. What kind is it?”
“Luna Terza Chardonnay,” I say, pouring her a glass and topping off my own. The pale gold catches the candlelight, glowing warm. “They’re part of Solstice Estates down in Napa. My brother Alex visited recently and came back completely obsessed. Apparently their wines are some of the best he’s ever had.” I hand her the glass. “You mentioned you liked wine, so I had him bring me a few bottles.”
She takes it, her fingers brushing mine, and raises it to her lips. She takes a sip and her eyes go wide. “Oh wow.” She looks down at the glass, then back at me. “That’s really good. Like, really really good.” She takes another sip, slower this time, letting it sit on her tongue. “Okay, your brother has excellent taste.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.” I lean against the counter across from her, watching her enjoy it. “Though it’ll go straight to his head.”
She smiles at me over the rim of her wine glass. “It was torture being away from you this week.”
I set down my glass, reaching for her. I pull her close, my hands settling on her hips. “You have no fucking idea. I’ve been counting down the hours.”
“Yes, it’s terrible being apart.” She loops her arms around my neck, wine glass still dangling from her fingers. “I’ve taken to scrolling my phone to distract myself in the evenings and now my entire TikTok algorithm is just cooking videos and romance novel recommendations.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have TikTok. I’ve never been on it.”
