“Are you sure about that?”
She had a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and it made me smile. I liked this playful side of hers. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”
“Oh, yes. This is going to be good,” she laughed, rubbing her hands together in excitement. “Do we have enough time to stop for lunch?”
I was hungry, so it sounded like a good idea to me. “Yeah.”
“Perfect! I want to pick where we go.”
“As long as it isn’t somewhere you’ve been before, that’s fine by me,” I agreed.
“It’s a newer place that I was hoping to be able to visit before I left LA, but I haven’t made it there yet.”
She gave me the address, without mentioning the name of the restaurant. When I pulled up in front, I realized that I should have asked more questions. “A tea shop? Remind me to check to see where the closest In-N-Out Burger is so we can hit the drive-through on our way to the ferry.”
“You did say you could handle my girliness,” she reminded me. “And there’s nothing more girly than high tea at a shop that looks like you’ve stepped into a fancy set forAlice in Wonderland.”
“I probably shouldn’t have made it so obvious this early in our relationship that I’d do just about anything to make you happy,” I grumbled after I found a parking spot and helped her out of the car.
She reached up and kissed me on the cheek, whispering in my ear, “Except it means the world to me that you did.”
Fuck if that didn’t make it all worthwhile. Arabella was a reward worth any sacrifice.
“I might have to turn in my man card after this,” I sighed as we walked into the shop. I pulled her chair out for her and cringed when I sat in mine, waiting for it to break under my weight. It held, and I was pleasantly surprised when the waitress brought the teas we ordered. My woman had just as much of a sweet tooth as I did, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering she was a pastry chef. She got the whoopee pie tea, and I picked the kettle corn. We’d asked for two of their tea for two specials since Arabella wanted to try everything and I was starving.
It didn’t take long before the waitress dropped off two towers, each with sandwiches on the bottom and sweets on the top. I was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed the food, devouring deviled egg salad, avocado, prosciutto, caramelized onion and mushroom, and smoked salmon sandwiches. And the sweets...the only time I’d tasted better was the cake Arabella had made for Vaughn and Carissa’s wedding. There was a great selection on both of the trays—macaroons, fruit tarts, brownie bites, mini berry cheesecakes, scones with clotted cream, lemon curd, and homemade jam.
“I’ll take some of those brownies to go with it,” I told our waitress when she cleared the table and asked if we each wanted an iced tea to take with us since we’d ordered two of the specials.
“What happened to the In-N-Out plan?” Arabella teased me as we walked out.
“I don’t think I could choke down a burger after everything we ate at the tea shop,” I admitted wryly.
“See!” she cried. “You liked it more than you thought you would.”
“No, I just flat-out liked it.” I earned myself another one of her glowing smiles with that.
“I knew you would,” she gloated. “How about you leave most of the food decisions to me since I’m the expert?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I handed her the paper bag with the extra brownies after she slid into the passenger seat of the rental. Then I patted my stomach in satisfaction as I walked around the car and climbed inside. “I guess now’s as good time as any to tell you that I had the kitchen at the cottage stocked by the local grocery store.”
“Is that your way of asking if I’ll cook for us while we’re there?”
“I’m not going to say no if you’re offering, that’s for sure.” She laughed lightly and shifted in her seat to face me. “But I also got some stuff to throw on the grill, so you won’t have to do all our meals.”
“That was thoughtful of you, but I’m more than happy to take charge of our meals. It’s been awhile since I’ve cooked for someone other than myself, except for in a professional capacity. The kitchen’s my domain, and I’m looking forward to showing off for you. I have a feeling it’s going to be very satisfying to cook for my man.”
It felt fucking great to have her call me that and see how excited she was. It was also easy to picture her in a different kitchen—the one in my home in Atlanta...barefoot and pregnant.
7
ARABELLA
When Gaige had said he’d booked a cottage for us, I was picturing something small and quaint. Not a full-fledged house with an ocean view. “Three bedrooms? Does that mean you’re planning on us not sharing?”
I meant to say it as a joke, but there was also an underlying vulnerability that came out as I spoke. After spending the last couple of nights with Gaige—with him sleeping while fully dressed over the covers that first night because I wasn’t about to let him sleep on the couch, and then wrapped in his arms with both of us completely naked for the limited amount of sleep we’d gotten between bouts of sex the second night—I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he actually said yes.
“No,” he growled, tugging me into his arms. “It means I wanted us to have the privacy that the hotels and bed and breakfasts couldn’t provide. The room with a king sized bed is ours, although you could easily talk me into breaking in the queen and both twin beds, too, if you’d like.”
