I lean up and kiss his cheek. “Cute is manly, especially when you’re cooking me dinner.”
He tilts his head toward the table and chairs he bought, too, since I was here last. “Take a seat and put your feet up. I’ll bring your wine out for you.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I say, holding my hands up in complete surrender as I pull out the chair and position the one next to me so I can do exactly as he instructed.
He makes good on his word and heads back into the kitchen to grab my wine while the grill warms up. When he returns, he hands it to me and sets the JBL speaker down on the table so we have some background noise while we enjoy the beautiful spring night.
He works between the grill and the stove inside while I am in pure heaven, relaxing and listening to music.
This amazing level of comfort washes over me as I just sit here. There’s not this need to talk or wonder what I should be doing. He’s made it clear I’m to kick my feet up, so I’m doing just that.
“More wine?” he asks as he walks outside again, holding the bottle up.
I lift my glass to him. “I’m not going to turn you down.”
He goes to pour, then pulls it back with a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows. “Promise?”
I laugh out loud, realizing I walked right into that one, but play along. “Promise.”
He grins from ear to ear and fills my wine, then leans down to give me a kiss. “Dinner is five minutes away.”
“Okay, do you need last-minute help?”
“Nope. The sauce is simmering, and I’m just waiting on the chicken. Then we’re good.”
He heads back in, and I take another sip of my wine, singing along to the Kane Brown song playing.
The door opens, and he’s holding an empty glass dish and his tongs again. “Chicken is done.”
I stand and follow him to the grill to see what he’s cooking when he lifts the lid. “Um, smells so good.”
“It’s my favorite, tequila lime seasoning. It goes so well with the Alfredo.” He loads the dish he’s holding with the chicken and hands it to me. “Here, you can take this inside while I clean the grill.”
I grab the dish and head back inside, where I see the asparagus is ready and the pasta is in a big pot on the stove, looking absolutely amazing. I set the chicken down, then open his cupboard to grab two plates, followed by two forks and knives from the drawer.
“Let’s eat!” he says, clapping his hands together once he enters the kitchen.
“Your joy for food is quite entertaining,” I tease as I hand him his plate.
“Hey, I love to eat, so, yes, I get excited when I know I’m about to eat a good meal.” He motions to the stove. “Ladies first.”
I dish up some pasta, a piece of chicken, and some sprigs of asparagus, then head back out to where I was sitting. Evan is quick to join me with his plate and wineglass and sits across from me.
“Cheers,” he says, holding up his wineglass to me.
I lift mine, and we clink them together. “Thank you again for making me dinner.”
“Dig in!” he says, not wasting any time.
I do the same and am pleasantly surprised at how amazing it tastes. “Wow.” I nod. “So good. You made this sauce from scratch?”
“Sure did.”
“Where did you learn to do that?”
“Instagram reels,” he responds with a cheesy grin before taking another bite.
“You’re joking, right?”
