Page 56 of Kiss and Tell
“I wouldn’t normally serve tomatoes out of season,” he says. “But I wanted to impress you with my knife skills.”
“You did,” I promise. “And when you didn’t store them in the fridge, and had a properly sharpened knife, and even knew tomatoes aren’t in season yet.”
I pick up my fork and knife, keeping my eyes on my plate so he won’t know how badly I want to see his reaction to the fish. “People don’t understand how much of a difference those details make. I preach that stuff on my show all the time.”
“Where do you think I learned all that? I told you, I watch your show. We’ve cooked together a ton of times. You just didn’t know it.”
“Seriously?”
“I prop my iPad on the counter, stream the show, and make stuff with you step-by-step. I have to pause it a lot, especially if it’s a technique I don’t know, but I’ve got most of them down now.”
I sit back, completely speechless.
His eyebrows go up. “Creepy?”
No. Definitely not creepy. I shake my head.
He takes his first bite of fish, chews twice, pauses, lets out a soft sigh, and keeps eating.
What does that mean? I’m out of practice in reading him. He has to like it. It’s good fish. I can tell before I even taste it.
I take a bite to make sure.
“Incredible,” he says as I verify that fact with my own tastebuds, and I relax.
I need for there to be words between us, light words, distracting words. It feels dangerous to sit in silence with this man. I feel a verge, and casual conversation will keep me from its edge.
“Tell me more about Norway,” I say.
“One of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been,” he begins. The rest of the meal passes easily as we share notes on travel.
He refuses to let me help with any of the remaining cleanup when we’re done. “I’ve got it. I’ll walk you home.”
We’re quiet on the trail. He doesn’t speak again until we stop in front of my cottage.
“I had a great time today.”
I smile up at him. “I did too. I like making new, uncomplicated memories here. Friend.”
“Yeah.” He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear then lets his hand fall away. “I agree.”
I haven’t been this nervous about a goodnight on the doorstep in years. I want him to kiss me. But also, I don’t. I don’t want the game to be over yet. Either way, I can’t stop staring at his mouth.
He notices and smiles, leaning down. But he only slides his arms around me in a hug. It’s not a comforting hug. It’s not a “had a great time” hug. It’s a hug that says “stay tuned for more” as he pulls me against him and makes his hands active participants, molding me to him from hip to chest.
I feel every one of his next three breaths before he lets me go, and that’s when I quietly release the breath I’ve been holding since he touched me.
“Goodnight,” he says quietly and waits to see me in.
“Keeping me safe in the high-crime ‘hood of Oak Crest?”
“No. Just stealing every extra second with you I can, friend.”
“Nicely done, Sawyer Reed,” I say softly, and he gives me a small smile. “Good night, friend.” I slip inside and lean against the door.
No, definitely not ready for this game to be over yet.
Chapter 18
