“Yes. I’m starving, actually,” I share. “I worked through lunch.”
He chides me gently about that and offers to cook, saying he's just thrown a lasagna in the oven.
“I love lasagna. What time?”
Before I know it, we’ve made plans, and I’ve got his address plugged into my GPS. He’s not far, and Goddess help me, I’mactually thrilled about that. After seeing him nearly every day last week, I missed him this weekend.
And yes, I know how weird that sounds. We’ve known each other less than a week, and here I am, going over to his house for dinner. He suggested it because most of the local restaurants close early on Sundays, and I’m so hungry I’m up for eating pretty much anywhere right now. It’s not like it’s an actual date though. I mean, I’m still in my work clothes.
Drat, I’m still in my work clothes.
I pull over and sniff my pits, verifying that I don’t stink, which is a good thing. But my hair is probably a mess and I’m—
“Stop it, Holly,” I chide myself, redirecting my thoughts. “You look fine. Besides, you’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
Like I’m special. No matter what I’m wearing.
Thoughts of Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick enter my mind as I refresh my ponytail and get back on the road. The way they looked at each other, as if they were the most wonderful things in the world. That’s the way Jake looks at me. How I feel when I’m with him.
So what if it doesn’t make any sense on paper? Timelines can be compressed and expanded at will, so why should this one be any different?
My GPS instructs me to turn left, and nervous excitement floods my body as I get closer to Jake’s address. I wonder what his house will be like?
I imagine it will be well-ordered and practical, like he is, but he could surprise me. He already has in many ways. I certainly never saw him coming. Never imagined I’d be so into him either. I’d thought love was out for me. Done. A pipe dream. But it’s real. Or it could be.
I think it definitely could be with Jake.
Only one way to find out.
Getting Real
Jake
“Mmm, Jake, this is delicious.”
I can’t help grinning at Holly’s praise, and the fact that she’s already had two helpings of my lasagna and is working on her third. At least she’s not shy when she eats, and damn, is her happiness a sight to behold.
“I still can’t believe you made this,” she continues, cutting another bite. “This is like ambrosia of the gods territory good.”
I chuckle at her assessment. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it,” she says seriously.
I don’t miss the little groan of delight as she takes another bite, and have to surreptitiously adjust myself beneath the table. She’s killing me with those little sounds of pleasure she’s been making as she eats, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Well, I might change the fact that we’re sitting across the table from each other rather than being in another position together, but one thing at a time.
That she came over at all is huge, especially since I just sprang the invitation on her. I’d like to say I don’t know what got into me, but that’s not true.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell her honestly. We’ve chatted about all sorts of things, but not this, not yet. “I know we just met, but after seeing you every day this week, it felt strange not seeing you yesterday and today.”
She nods, reaching for her water. “I feel the same way.”
My heart rate speeds up at her admission, and I resist the urge to reach across the table and take her hand when she sets her glass back down.
“It’s weird though, right?” she says, her brows furrowing slightly. “I mean, we just met a few days ago, and here we are. I can’t believe I actually came over to your house.”
“I’m glad you did.” Unable to help myself any longer, I reach across the table after all, gently slipping my fingers around hers. “I love spending time with you, Holly, and I’m glad we can share this meal together.”
