Page 11 of Scarred Mountain Man
“I asked Aiden to come by and help me figure out what to do with all the ingredients you bought.”
“I hope you didn’t use all the ingredients in one single meal.”
He raises his eyebrow.
“I think that’d be impossible.”
I giggle at his stern look and sarcastic tone.
“Come here,” he says before wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing me. I melt against him, I missed his lips on mine. His big arms wrap me up and I feel his taut abs between us.
“I missed you,” he whispers in my ear.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
When I step back slightly, I see his smile. It’s not wide, it’s shy but so honest, I think my heart is going to burst. Do I love this man? Is it possible to love someone after a day? It can’t be, right? It feels right though.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes!”
He guides me to the dining table which is already set up with a beautiful intricate lacy tablecloth, two candles in the middle and one tall jar with a rose in it.
“This feels very romantic.”
“I thought maybe we could have our first date.”
It’s cute he thought this through. Never in a million years did I think a rough man like him could have this sweet a heart.
I stand on my tiptoes so I can plant a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, that sounds nice.”
It’s a good evening, there’s plenty of conversation but plenty of silence too, which we both appreciate. It’s like we get each other's rhythms, the best time to talk and the best time to just appreciate the food in front of us without words.
“Will you show me your paintings?” Oliver asks as we finish the delicious dessert Aiden prepared for us. Oliver said he didn’t want to risk making something inedible, so he ordered it from his friend.
My cheeks burn before I have the time to collect myself.
“Why?”
“I’m curious. I’m curious to know why you blush every time we talk about them honey.”
“No reason,” I answer too fast.
“I doubt that. But you don’t need to tell me.”
“It’s just…it’s embarrassing…”
He doesn’t push me, waiting for me to either change the subject or continue. I choose the latter.
“Let me get my business cards and I’ll show you. I always carry them in my bag.”
He points towards the flashlight before I grab it and go to the bedroom. Do I really want to show him? I realize I do. I want to share every part of me with him and although that’s scary, there's some relief too. To have someone know me completely. Not just the mask I put on for the world. To some I’m just a happy-go-lucky girl who always smiles, to others I’m the painter who rarely networks, to him I want to just be myself. Themultitudes that exist within me finally merge for someone to see the full me.
I’ve got a few different business cards, each with one of my paintings on the front. It’s a fun way to show off my work, and having variety keeps things interesting.
“You don’t have to show me,” Oliver says when I get to the dining table. I can see he’s not lying, he’d wait for me to be ready, I know that.
“I want to.”
