Page 78 of Four Letter Feelings

“Dessert,” she answered simply, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes and he could tell from her coy tone she was teasing.

“I meant what kind.” He chuckled. She looked beautiful. Jeans and a shirt that showed off her shoulders, and split halfway up her back, it had caused him to suck in his breath as she walked past him at the door.

“Does it matter? We both know that’s not what you’re having for dessert.” Her eyelashes fluttered and she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, eyeing him hungrily.

If he wasn’t still feeling weak from his breakdown and needing to eat something, he would have suggested skipping dinner altogether and going straight to dessert. But he liked this woman and he wanted things to go right, not quickly. He wanted to date her, to get to know her and savor her. This wasn’t a once and done thing for him and he knew it from the moment he laid eyes on her in the bar, for the first time in a long time Jeremy Lewis wanted more. He smiled, knowing his mom would be squealing in delight and making jokes about him having a crush.

“What? No jokes about skipping straight to dessert?” she challenged.

He flashed her a grin and shook his head. “Too easy.”

She arched her eyebrow.

“Not you, Chels. You’re far from easy. Have a seat. I had a disaster with the soup earlier, so I pulled some out of the freezer and it’s warming through on the stove.”

“You failed at something?” She fake-gasped. “Surely not!”

“Oh, it happens. I have epic failing skills. But I’m a quick learner,” he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes.

“How do you like your meat?”

“Ugh. Is the entire evening going to be innuendo?”

“Would you have it any other way?”

“I like my steak medium...” She paused and licked her lips suggestively. “And we can talk about how I like my meat later.”

They both laughed. “You sure know how to fluster a man, Chelsea Davis. Medium I can do. Let’s have some soup first before we move on to the meat.”

***

“That was some great soup, Jer. Potato and?”

“Italian sausage.”

She groaned. “I feel like every part of this meal was planned so you could make dirty jokes about your meat and sausage.”

“Nah. Just a happy coincidence.” He tried to pick up her soup bowl but she held onto it and insisted she put their dishes in the dishwasher while he worked on the main course. They talked about his school work, hockey and AJ, and she opened up to him about her job, her family and her new online friend in Ireland.

“How can you be instant best friends with someone you’ve never even met? Wait… how do you know she’s not some fifty-five-year-old dude who wants to keep you in a cage in his basement? How do you know he’s not some psycho?”

“Ok, someone needs to lay off the true crime shows, for one, and for two, she is most definitely a psycho, but not the creepy, murderous kind. I dunno if you’ve heard, Jer, but there’s this amazing invention called a phone, there’s another one called a camera. In fact, some phones even have cameras attached. There are even apps where you can call each other – wait for it – with video, so, and I know this might blow your mind, but you can actually see the other person. I have seen her, I know she’s not a fifty-five-year-old dude.”

He chuckled. “Man, sarcasm really is your first language, isn’t it.”

She shrugged and took the plate he was offering. “This… wow… Jer, you really can cook!”

“Don’t sound so surprised! Eat up before it gets cold.”

“Seriously, this looks incredible and it smells divine!” She inhaled and he watched as a deeply gratifying smile appeared on her face.

She put the plate on the table and picked up her silverware. Eyeing him suspiciously she dragged her knife through the center of her steak to reveal a perfectly cooked medium piece of meat. Clearly surprised she sliced off a piece and popped it in her mouth. Jeremy leaned back in his chair, spread his hands in question and waited for her evaluation of his ability to cook a steak.

“Mmmm! Ok, fine. This, this you can do. This steak is perfectly seasoned and perfectly cooked.”

Next, she took a mouthful of his becoming-a-staple Brussel sprouts and moaned again.

---