Page 82 of Into These Eyes
There’s a man about to cook a meal in my kitchen. A man who took care of me when I couldn’t do it myself. A man who made me laugh and squeal like a little kid at the beach when I’dforgotten how to have fun. A man who’s here now because I let him see behind the wall I put up to hide my vulnerable side.
A man who should be so bitter and mean after the cards he’s been dealt, his selfless compassion and gentle nature leave me in awe.
Liam’s affidavit forgotten, I sidle up beside him and lean a hip against the counter as he cracks eggs into a bowl.
His hands freeze, his eyes on mine. “Ah, shit. I should’ve asked if it’s okay to use all these. You probably want them for breakfast.”
“I don’t eat breakfast. It’s fine.” I wait for him to continue what he’s doing before I ask, “So, Benny? What’s happening there?”
While he makes a massive omelette, he explains that they came to an arrangement where he’d Uber over to Benny every second day. Apparently, if he didn’t agree to keep me safe, Benny threatened to cut ties with him completely.
I laugh. “You don’t really believe that?”
“You never know with Benny,” he says, throwing me a smile as he folds the omelette in half over the cheese and herbs. “Wasn’t worth the risk. Much as he likes to pretend he’s fine, he’s still a fish out of water.”
“It’s sweet how much you care about him.”
“Yeah, well, I just want him to be happy.” He turns toward me as the omelette cooks, the aromas filling my nostrils and making my mouth water. “So, will seeing Benny every other day be a problem?”
“No. No, of course not. It’s the nights, really. Being here on my own … it’s never worried me before …”
He gently places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll be here,” he promises. Turning away, cuts the omelette in half, grabs two plates from a cupboard, and serves it up.
“Oh, you don’t have to cook for me, I—”
“Yes, I do. And you wouldn’t want to insult me by not trying it, right? It’s only plain, but—”
“Sold,” I interrupt. “God knows, it smells amazing.”
Placing the plates on the breakfast bar, I take a seat as he grabs some cutlery and joins me on the stool to my left. Unlike when I’d sat in McDonald’s and couldn’t stomach a bite, my appetite’s well and truly back. Digging in, I groan in please when the cheese and creaminess hit my taste buds.
Gavin gives me an appreciative grin before popping a bite in his own mouth.
“So, you can cook,” I say, trying not to think about the reaction my heart has to that smile. “How did that happen?”
“Mum taught me. Once she found out she was sick, it became her mission to make sure I could fend for myself, especially since my father was useless in the kitchen. Those nights with her, following her instructions, all the little tricks she showed me, the conversations we had … they’re some of my fondest memories. Being able to do that again … well …” he trails off, extra moisture shining in his eyes.
“Another thing you went so long without.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice a little strained.
Resting my hand on his forearm, I brush my thumb over his skin. “I’m sorry.”
He stares at his plate and simply nods. But I catch the solid bob of his Adam’s apple and feel the tightening of his muscles beneath my palm. Which reminds me I’m still touching him. Again.
Removing my hand, I concentrate on eating. He finishes quickly, and by the time I’m a little more than halfway through mine, I discover the rich ingredients have me full to bursting. Remembering how he devoured my leftover hamburger, I slide my plate over to him.
He quirks an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Definitely.” I pat my stomach. “Another bite and I might explode.”
“I’d love to cook every night, to contribute to the accommodation upgrade.”
Suddenly, I recall what I’d said to him earlier. I’d told him that unless an amazing man turned up on my doorstep, I didn’t have time for a relationship. And tonight, a man turned up on my doorstep. And he wants to cook. Every night. If that’s not an amazing man, I don’t know what is.
Okay. I need to get a grip.
“I’d love that,” I say, “but only do it because you want to. You don’t owe me anything, Gavin.”
