Chapter Eleven #2
I reset the timer, then cocked my head at her. The pink in her cheeks had turned to a deep crimson, like she was embarrassed by her admission. After tossing the oven mitt onto the counter, I came over to where she was sitting and cupped my hand around the back of her neck, leaning close to her ear.
“Then it’s a good thing I like doing it.”
Eden laughed and relaxed under my palm. “I guess it is, yes.”
“What was that look on your face?” I asked gently. “Did you think I’d be upset that you hate cooking?”
For a second, she bit her lip, then her gaze lifted to mine, shining with that vulnerability I’d only caught glimpses of before. I stroked the side of her throat with my thumb until she nodded.
“Why? Because it’s a traditionally female job or something?”
A tiny shrug was her only response, so I leaned in close until our foreheads were touching and her eyes locked on my face.
“I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but let me assure you I give zero shits about gender roles or societal expectations. I know how to cook not only because my mom refused to raise helpless man-babies, but because I enjoy it. I’m more than happy to feed you, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Anything else you hate doing?”
Her lips quirked. “I don’t ever make my bed.”
“A rebel,” I mused, kissing the tip of her nose. “You should know I find rebels very fucking sexy.”
When bright laughter finally burst from her lips, I vowed to spend as much time as she’d let me making her laugh, whether that turned out to be days or weeks or the rest of my life. I managed not to voice that thought and scare the hell out of her, though.
“How was your first official weekend?”
Her nose wrinkled and her eyes dimmed slightly. “Fine, but my tires were all flat when Addie drove me in yesterday.”
“What?” I blinked at her. “All of them?”
“Yup. They weren’t slashed, just deflated, like someone let the air out.”
“Why would anyone do that? Especially while it was parked on the street and anyone could have seen,” I muttered, shaking my head.
She offered a tiny grin. “You think Carter has an alibi?”
“I think Carter would go to war against anyone who tried to mess with you,” I replied. “Were you able to get them fixed?”
“Yeah, a mechanic from that Saucy Wrench place came by to replace them. Apparently my old ones were verging on bald anyway, so I guess whoever it was did me a favor, because now I have four brand new tires to get me through any lingering snow we might get.”
I frowned. “Did you file a police report?”
“They stopped over and took a statement, but it was probably just kids messing around. Though they did say if I’d been parked in your spot, some of the cameras on Main Street might have caught it.”
“Then park there,” I said firmly. “Please. All the more reason for you to take that spot. I don’t want anyone messing with your car, Eden. Or you.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, but finally heaved a sigh and replied, “Okay, fine.”
I stroked her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin and the way her lips parted at my touch. If I didn’t focus on dinner, we’d end up doing something other than eating together, and she’d said she was starving.
Time to change directions again.
“So, Garden of Delights—which is a killer name, by the way—is closed on Mondays?” I asked, hoping to sound casual.
“Yes, and I’m not sure it’s as cool as Dueling Dragons, but thanks. With a name like Eden, I figured I might as well play it up.”
So far, she’d spoken very little of her parents and only mentioned her brother once. I didn’t want to dig too deep, not when things were still light and easy between us, but I hoped she might throw me a few crumbs.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but it sounds like a hippie name,” I ventured.
She scoffed. “My parents are far from hippies. They’re extremely religious. Like, a woman’s place is in the home, wearing long skirts and having lots of babies and being subservient to her husband.”
“Hence the assumption I’d want a woman to cook and clean for me,” I said softly. When she nodded, I grimaced. “Shit, I’m sorry. That had to be tough.”
“We don’t have much of a relationship. It’s fine. I had Addie’s parents growing up, and they always treated me like I was one of their own.”
Running a hand over my beard, I said, “I guess your parents aren’t terribly supportive of you owning a business then, huh?”
“Being thirty-two and unmarried? Not supportive. Going to college instead of finding a godly man to guide me with a firm hand? Not supportive. Owning a store that sells sinful, immodest lingerie? Unforgivable. Needless to say, I haven’t told them and have no intention of doing so.”
“Eden,” I murmured, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin under her ear. “You’re an incredible human being and that store is already a smashing success. Your parents are the idiots missing out on all that is you.”
She sucked in a breath and dropped her forehead so it hit my shoulder. Though she didn’t speak, her shoulders shuddered under my other hand. It was a long moment before she lifted her head again and met my eyes.
“I don’t want to give them another minute of this time with you,” she said firmly.
“Then we’ll stop talking about them.”
Her resulting smile was a bit tentative, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful—or any less tempting. I gave in and kissed her, slow and soft and sweet, until I knew she was as tempted as I was to forget all about her parents, about dinner, about everything outside of the two of us.
When I lifted my head, I bit back a triumphant grin at her dazed expression, brushed my thumb over the flush in her cheek, and set about serving up our dinner.
This is a marathon, I reminded myself.
Then again, I’d never been a very good runner. Maybe a few little sprints were a fine addition to my slow but steady jog toward the future. I had long legs—I could even manage a few hurdles in my way.
Most likely, I’d have to let Eden decide our pace as we journeyed onward, and if the look in her eyes was anything to go by, she had some very definite ideas about that.