“Yeah,” Liam adds, “I’m starving.”
While my brothers and I have different jobs, we all lease offices within the same building. I sell programming plans to large corporations on the twelfth floor, Luke’s law firm is on the eighth floor, and Liam, who’s a broker, has an office on floor number three. We usually meet on Liam’s floor, but I’m late.
My phone buzzes. I’m quick to hurry and shove it in my pocket. I donotwant to get the twins’ two cents on my love life.
“Who’s that?” Liam asks with a nod to my pocket.
“I saw that too,” Luke says.
“Get out of here,” I say, shooing them out of my office until they start to move. “Where we going for lunch?”
“Yeah,” Tina from administration purrs as she slides up behind us. “Where are we going?”
I thank the heavens for the distraction and glance at my phone while the twins cozy up to Tina.
Kirsten:Can’t wait.
My heart thumps out of beat. Me neither.
CHAPTER21
Kirsten
Our date starts with a gorgeous rooftop experience. Picture dinner in an old greenhouse with glass walls on a rooftop, string lights glowing against the star-lit sky while the ocean roars in the not-so-far distance. Between the magnetic company, the flirty banter, and the unbeatable view, it’s the perfect recipe for romance.
When the waiter asks if we’d like to order dessert, I recall the bananas I have at home and offer to make one instead.
We waste no time heading to my place where we suit up and get cooking. Bananas sliced, butter sizzling, sugar crystals melting. I inhale the sweet aroma wafting from the pan.
“Smells incredible,” Beau says while hovering over the pan as well. “Amazing what you can do with bananas.”
I grin. “Right? I’m surprised you’ve never had bananas Foster before.”
“Never had it, and definitely nevermadeit. After today, I can say I’ve done both.” He leans against the counter, looking scrumptious in the lacy apron I tied onto him. “I’ve seen it on menus,” he says, “but I just couldn’t see how bananas and nuts would make an entire dessert.”
“Don’t forget the ice cream,” I add.
“We’re putting ice cream on this stuff?”
“You better believe it.” Having Beau in my kitchen is like exposing a new, private side of myself. The domestic me who takes pride in cooking nourishing meals, who actually found joy in canning the peaches we grew in the backyard, and agonized her way through finding the best method to cook a pot roast. I’ve officially nailed that one, by the way.
Just being in here with Beau, having him join me at the stove, breaks a barrier of sorts. You can’t claim you don’t know someone after he’s joined you at the stove top, shamelessly donned your frilliest apron, and swatted you on the butt with the wooden spoon you handed him.
Tonight, we’ve talked about everything from horror movies we watched as kids to the woes of watching our youth slip away with things like sunspots and crow’s feet, which happen to look unfairly good on him. From the moment he showed up at my door, handed me a blush-colored rose he’d picked from his garden, and escorted me into the car, our conversation has been fluid, flirty, and engaging.
When we’re with the kids, it’s plain to see Beau and I are compatible in all the practical ways. We parent similarly, which I like, and we both want to spend time with our kids, and spend time as a family. It’s one of my favorite things about him.
But ever since he kissed me on the couch, I can’t stop thinking about the other ways we’re compatible too. The romantic sparks that sizzled through me during that kiss were off the charts. Over the weekend, there was a fair amount of flirting going on, but nothing like tonight.
I snag the ice cream out of the freezer, grab two forks, and lead him to the breakfast nook in my kitchen. We set the skillet on a hot pad between us, plop scoops of ice cream on top, and take our first taste with a fork-tine cheers.
“Holy…” Beau mumbles. “I can’t wait to show Parker and Paige. Think I can replicate this at home?” he asks while scooping a second bite onto his fork.
I eye him up and down. “Only if you don the apron.”
He shrugs. “Naturally.”
When I hop up to put the ice cream away, I flick off all the lights but the lamp next to the breakfast nook, something I’ve enhanced since Greg left. Beside the small table and barstools, I dragged over my favorite comfy lounge chair and added a miniature bookcase that also serves as a table. I settle into this spot every morning with a cup of joe, pull out a book, a devotional, something that settles my soul and starts my day right.
