He grabs lettuce and vegetables from the refrigerator and sets them on the counter. He ignores my question. “You want to do the salad?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
He gives me a cutting board and knife, and I get to work. I keep watching him out of the corner of my eye, trying to make sense of all this.
He gets out the chicken, preps it, and turns on his indoor grill. He’s quick and efficient, and as I finish cutting up all the vegetables for the salad, he has chicken grilled and potatoes made.
He quickly sets the table, and we both sit down to eat.
A few bites in, I see him watching me, and I know I can’t just go on without any answers. “What is this?”
He stabs a piece of chicken. “Dinner.”
I try to let his answer placate me, but it doesn’t. I’m someone that always needs answers. I don’t like surprises, and now I like them less and less. I stab the salad with my fork, and we eat in silence until it becomes too much for me. “This is really good, Eli.”
It feels like instead of eating, he’s watched me the whole time, but he agrees. “The salad is really good too.”
I point at his food. Heck, he’s barely touched it. “You haven’t eaten anything.”
He shakes his head and forces his gaze to his plate. “Sorry, I’m enjoying watching you.”
My eyes widen, and I swallow the bite I just ate. I set my fork down and straighten my shoulders. “What’s going on?”
He looks at me with confusion.
I gesture to the food and then us. “What is this? Did you bring me here to let me go or?—”
He cuts me off. “No, of course not. I won’t lie to you, Sass. You know that. Well, I take that back. I have lied to you before, but I’ll never do it again.”
A cold chill goes down my back. “You lied to me? When? About what?”
He’s still, watchful, and speaks very slowly, as if he’s worried that what he’s about to say is going to bother me. “Five years ago, when we kissed, I lied to you and told you it was because of the alcohol.”
I grip the edge of the table, needing something to hold on to. “Why did you kiss me?”
He reaches for me but must think twice, and his hand drops to the table just a few inches from mine. “I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t imagine not kissing you.”
I shake my head, confused. “But?—”
He nods. “I know. I screwed up. I told you it was because of the alcohol. You were twenty years old. I was thirty, and I was worried about Kane and?—”
I shrug. “What? You’re not worried about Kane now?”
He looks into my eyes. “I talked to him today. I told him I wanted to start dating you.”
Shocked, I scoot my chair back from the table and stand up, hand on my round belly. “I can imagine how that went. Did he remind you I’m pregnant? Wait, let me do it. I’m pregnant, Elijah.”
He stands up and comes around the table to stand next to me. Like any other time he’s this close, my senses go haywire. Hereaches for me, and right before his palm touches me, he asks for permission. “May I?”
I nod, and he puts his hand on my belly and holds me there. “I think I know you’re pregnant, Sassy. I was there. I heard the heartbeat. I saw him on the screen. Hell, I have a printout on my refrigerator.”
I turn my head to look at the refrigerator, and sure enough, the pictures from last week’s appointment are up there. “I had wondered why you wanted a second set and then where they went. Why? I don’t understand.”
I’m so confused by it all. Elijah cups my cheek in his palm. “Date me? That’s all I’m asking, for you to consider dating me. We can spend time together, get to know each other, and see where this goes.”
I bring my hand up and cover his. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He drops his hand from my face. “You don’t want to be with me?”
