Chapter Eleven
Edwin
I didn’t dare bring dessert to Micah’s house for our first date, but I did run by the florist and then to PB&J for a loaf of fresh bread.
My tummy swirled with anticipation. It had been a long time since I went on a first date. I clutched the flowers in my hand and realized that this would probably be my last first date. At least, that’s what I dreamed of. Once Micah’s lips touched mine, everything in me shattered. Jacob might as well have been a fever dream.
I wanted Micah to be my last first date. My last first kiss. I wanted him for as long as I lived and beyond.
Raising my fist, I knocked on his door. He lived in the cutest mint-green house A wind chime hung from the top of his porch and the metal pieces looked like shapes of chocolate. His shutters were light brown and I realized, standing there, that his house was mint chocolate chip.
Micah opened the door and all my trepidation whooshed out of me. I was here with my mate. Nothing else mattered.
“Hi,” he said as a blush crept up his neck and into his cheeks. He had changed into jeans and a plain navy shirt, and the casual clothes suited him well.
“Hi, yourself. I brought these for you.” I held up the flowers and held my breath. This was weird. This man was fated for me, meant for us to be mated for life, but I had no clue what kind of flowers he liked. I would learn, I supposed.
“They are beautiful. Thank you.” Accepting the tulips, he moved to the side. “Please, come in.”
If I expected some kind of dig about not sticking around for dinner last time—in fact, running away from him and the very idea—it never came. Micah was so sweet and kind—accepting me and all my mess.
“Thank you. I brought bread. If it doesn’t suit the meal, it’s fine, but I don’t make a habit of going to someone’s home without a gift.”
He smiled. “That’s a good rule but I hope I’m not just someone. Come on into the kitchen. Dinner is almost ready.”
We walked through his living room, which looked like a picture taken from Pinterest. Plush couch cushions. Throw blankets laid over the backs of chairs. Books on shelves. Soft lighting. A serene place if there ever was one.
“You have a lovely home. And no, you are not just someone.”
Micah’s kitchen made me gasp. And not just because of the tall, frosted chocolate layer cake on the counter. Everything was organized and in its place, pots and pans hanging on a pegboard just like Julia Child’s. I only knew that because of the movie about her. My mate stirred something in a pot and then tasted it with a spoon he got out of the drawer. He glided around, retrieving things and checking pots as though he were born in a kitchen. He danced in his kitchen. A fluidity and ease many dancers never achieved on the stage.
My mate was incredible.
“You’re making me nervous, staring at me, Edwin.”
“I’m admiring you. There’s a difference. The way you move around, it’s…I can’t help myself. I didn’t realize there would be dinner and a show.”
He chuckled and took some pans from the oven. “It makes me nervous, but I love your eyes on me. My animal loves it too.”
“What are we eating tonight?”
After that, the conversation never had a lull. We sat down to an incredible meal of roasted chicken thighs and risotto. My bread went with the meal perfectly.
“Have you ever been mated?” I asked. Most of the conversation we’d had thus far had been about me. I wanted to get to know my mate.
“I haven’t.” He leaned back and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “I dated some in high school but after that, I was focused on learning my craft. At some point, I knew that if I believed in Fate, which I did, that my mate would stumble into my life. Or…as the case may be, he would walk into my chocolate shop making me drop everything.”
Chuckling together, I reached over the table and took his hand in mine. Every time I touched this man, my entire body flared to life. My bear chuffed inside me. He told me this was my mate and was upset I had to have proof. I was silly to him. Better late than never.
“Have you lived here long?”
Micah furrowed his brow. “Not too long. But I made chocolates from home for a while before opening up a shop.”
We talked more about how he came here. He’d moved to this small town after hearing social media buzz about the small town with a huge foodie following. Said he felt the urge to move here, in his chest. “Now I know why Oliver Creek called to me. My business is flourishing, and I’ve met my mate. Fate has a plan. If I wasn’t a believer before, I certainly am now.”
“Should we have dessert?” I asked, not wanting another course other than the man across from me.
His chest moved in and out with shallow breaths. “Are we talking about the chocolate cake or something else?”
I leaned back and tugged on his hand, bringing him to straddle my hips. “I’m not talking about cake.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re still hurting from Jacob.”
“Don’t,” I said, gripping his hips. “He has no part in this. I swear. I’ve wanted you from the first second I saw you. This is about you and me. I know what I want and who I need. It’s you, Micah. It’s always been you.”