Page 54 of Nuts

The water boiling over the top of the pot brought me back to reality.

While he used the bathroom, I cooked the rice and sautéed the vegetables. When I realized the meal was ready, I found it odd that he hadn’t returned to the kitchen.

I turned toward the hallway. “It’s ready!”

“I’m coming,” he shouted.

Before I turned around, he opened his bedroom door.

Holy cow.

The change was subtle, but it was enough to cause my heart to skip a beat. Dressed in dark jeans, sneakers, and a button-down shirt, he looked fabulous.

I stole an eyeful of his handsome looks and swallowed hard.

He tugged against the tail of his shirt as he walked, and then looked up. My heart rose into my throat. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from him. I waved my hand toward the stove behind me.

“It’s uhhm. It’s. It’s ready.”

“Let’s do it,” he said. “My mouth’s been watering since I had that sample.”

I was wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of jeans. The look had become somewhat of a trademark of mine. Short of when I worked at the dealership, it was all I wore.

The change from my typical wardrobe to dressing sloppily came in my latter high school years. After being asked on dates, taken out, and then later cast aside because of my revolting leg, I decided to make a change. The alteration to my appearance didn’t prevent male interest altogether, but it sure minimized it.

In turn, it lessened my pain.

“Let me uhhm. Let me change really quick, okay?”

He stepped aside and then shrugged. “Okay.”

A hint of his cologne found its way to my nose. Without me consciously telling them to do so, my hips began to twist back and forth.

It was my cue to leave.

“Be right back.”

I shuffled to the bedroom. A wisp of his scent and the image of him stepping from his bedroom followed me.

After much thought, I nervously emerged from my room in a fitted tee, an old pair of tight-fitting jeans, and my sneakers. Other than seeing me at the dealership in my cleavage-revealing uniform, I was sure Percy had never seen me wearing anything but baggy jeans and a hoodie.

I held my breath and walked toward the kitchen. Normally I’d perceive wearing the fitted shirt and the tight jeans as a risk, but for whatever reason, I felt that Percy wouldn’t cast me aside if he found out about my leg.

His eyes went wide. “Damn. That’s cute.”

“I always like the way you look,” I said. “But you look nice, too. I like that shirt.”

He swallowed hard. “You look good all the time, too. But I like those jeans.”

“Thank you.” I grinned. “Ready to eat?”

“Ready if you are.”

We filled our plates and sat down. After a few bites of chicken, he ate some of the vegetables and then looked up. “You can cook this any time. Christ on a cracker, girl. You’re a keeper.”

A keeper?

I gazed blankly at my plate. “A keeper?”