Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
R owdy
We were cutting it close by the time we got back to my place, but I hadn’t wanted to rush her. I wanted her to fall in love with St. David. I wanted her to stay and fall in love with me.
“You hungry?” I asked as we walked in the door. “I’ve got meatballs and sauce on the stove. “I just need to start the water for pasta.”
She bit her lip. “I really should pick up Krista. I don’t want her to overstay her welcome.”
I put my hands on the back of the couch and leaned forward, watching her glance at my arms for a second before reconnecting with my gaze. I’d taken off my sweatshirt and pushed up the sleeves of my t-shirt.
“Daisy already has plans to feed the kids and bring them to the game.”
“I still have to check in.”
“Of course. No problem.” I nodded over my shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Come find me when you’re done.”
She hesitated for a second, before returning my nod and pulling out her phone. I had the water boiling by the time she walked back into the kitchen.
“You get hold of Daisy?”
I opened the package of fresh, but store-bought, pasta – hey, I wasn’t that amazing in the kitchen that I could make my own pasta – and dumped it in the water.
“What’s this town’s dark secret?”
I turned to look over my shoulder and gave her a confused smile. “Huh?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a look that was definitely suspicious. “I mean, are you all serial killers by night? Is the water polluted? Are you witches and you curse everyone who stops here to forget this place as soon as they leave? There has to be a reason everyone’s so nice. And don’t give me some song and dance about how small towns are this magical fairyland where everyone’s amazing. No place is this perfect.”
My smile kept growing with every word. Her almost comical confusion made my blood sizzle for some reason. She just looked so damn sexy.
“You think I’m perfect, huh?”
I wanted to get a smile out of her, and I did, but I could see she was still stewing about something. And I wasn’t exactly sure what.
Her exaggerated sigh and rolled eyes made my dick harder, if that was even possible. Good thing she wasn’t looking below my belt.
“No, I do not think you’re perfect. No one’s perfect.” She paused. “Except maybe Jon Bon Jovi, and that’s not open for discussion. Right now, we’re talking about you.”
“We are? ”
“Well, we’re talking about this town. And you’re part of this town. So spill. What’s the deal?”
“Can I drain the pasta while we talk?”
She waved an imperious hand toward the stove, which I took to mean I had permission. So I grabbed the pot and upended the contents into the strainer I already had in the sink.
“Well, the town’s not magical and neither are the people who live here. Trust me, if we were, we’d win a hell of a lot more games.”
I grabbed a dish from the counter and piled pasta on it and showed it to her. She barely glanced at it as she nodded. So I moved back to the stove to load it up with sauce and meatballs.
“The water’s definitely not polluted. We draw straight from the reservoir that’s fed from a spring in the hills.”
I handed her the plate then made my own with twice the amount of food and waved her toward the table at the window at the back of the kitchen. The window overlooked the woods and was my favorite place to eat.
She did a double take at the view before she took a seat and glared at me. Like I’d done something to offend her.
“I mean, come on. Look at that.” She pointed out the window like I’d didn’t know what was out there. “That’s not fair.”
Since I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I turned to see what she was looking at, but it was the same view I saw every morning.
“I mean, yeah, it’s pretty. And no, there are no serial killers in town. At least, not that I know of.”
With a huff, she started to twirl pasta around her fork. “It’s too perfect here.”
Still smiling, I watched her take a bite and waited for her reaction. Maybe I could seduce her with food. I liked to cook, and I liked to feed people with the food I made. I especially wanted to feed her.
“And that’s a bad thing? ”
She didn’t answer right away, her lids lowering for a second as my red sauce hit her taste buds.
“Oh my god. Why does this taste so frickin’ good?”
Grinning, I forked up a mouthful, making her wait for my answer. She looked so fucking beautiful with that scowl on her face.
“Trade secret.”
It took her several seconds to respond and, when she did, it was with an “Ugh.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s not really a secret. I add a little Worcestershire sauce with some red wine and a parmesan rind.”
“So, you’re like some secret gourmet chef?”
I snorted. “Hardly. This is like the only thing I do really well. When you live on your own, you either cook or you spend a lot of money on takeout. My mom made sure her kids knew how to cook.”
We ate in silence for a while, but I knew she was still chewing over something.
Finally, her voice soft, she said, “I’m afraid I like it here too much.”
My hand paused with the fork halfway to my mouth. “Why are you afraid of that?”
“Because we have to go home.”
Yeah, that’s not what I wanted to hear. “Why?”
“Because we’re not really supposed to be here.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
She blinked. “I don’t honestly know.”
“Then maybe this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.”