5. Alex
I’m pouring two glasses of red wine as a freshly showered Elijah walks into the kitchen. He’s barefoot now in dark-wash jeans, wearing a similar-colored denim button-up with the sleeves folded below his elbow and the top few buttons left open. My eyes go straight to the smattering of dark chest hair peeking out, and I have to stop my mouth from falling open.
Holy mother of God.
Elijah smiles as he approaches me, completely unaware that he’s set my panties on fire. Scratch that. He’s melted them.
“It smells wonderful in here,” he says, looking over my shoulder at the food I have simmering on the stove.
“Thanks,” I say, sliding a glass of wine toward him. “I hope you like Chianti. It’s from 2016.”
He lets out a low whistle. “You sure you want to share this with me?”
“Isn’t there some rule that you have to share expensive wine with someone?”
“Not at all.”
I smile coyly. “Fine, but at the end of the day, who really wants to drink alone, right?”
Elijah’s serious blue eyes stare into me as if I’ve said something that struck him deeply. “Right,” he says after a moment. I’m wondering if he drinks alone often. By his reaction to my words, it would seem that he does, and that makes me sad. Because while Sean and I parted ways over six months ago now, I am not alone. I have my best friend, Allie, our group of girlfriends, and my family.
Now I want to know who Elijah has or doesn’t have. I don’t see a wedding ring on his finger, and I can only guess he doesn’t have a girlfriend because he came here alone like me.
I hold up my wine glass, deciding this man needs to have a little fun. Even if he only stays one night, I can give him a night of company. Even if it’s platonic. Because let’s be honest, if he is interested in me like I think he is, I doubt it will go any further than harmless flirting. Which is sad—I bet Elijah is wonderful in bed. He gives off that big dick energy without even trying. And he seems like a sweet guy.
“Cheers,” I say as Elijah holds up his glass. “To an evening of not drinking alone—and good company.”
The light tone in my voice has the corners of his mouth tugging up. He repeats my words back to me before he clinks his glass against mine. We bring our drinks to our lips, and our eyes stay connected while we sip the savory liquid. His gaze is strong and steadfast as he swallows, and I feel like the moment happening between us right now is erotic.
I swallow my wine and then avert my gaze, knowing that if he keeps staring at me like that, I can’t be held liable for my actions. Setting my wine glass down on the island, I feel his eyes follow me as I go to check the dinner. I grab a potholder and lift the lid on the cast-iron skillet, the hot steam wafting up. Elijah is right; it does smell amazing. Happiness fills me as I admire the rich and rustic dish I’ve created. The chicken is falling off the bone, which means it’s ready.
“Do you need help with anything?” Elijah’s velvety timbre asks, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I pick up the wooden spoon and turn around to face him.
“Nope, it’s ready.”
Elijah’s eyes track from my face to the wooden spoon I’m holding. When his attention settles on me once more, he’s blushing again. I know he’s thinking about earlier.
A playful smirk forms on my lips. I shouldn’t like that my dad’s friend is clearly thinking about me naked, but I can’t help it. I do. It feels nice to be desired, even if nothing comes of it.
“You know, a wooden spoon could’ve been a great weapon,” I tease.
A burst of laughter shoots forth from Elijah, and something inside me changes at the sound. It’s wonderful. I want to hear him laugh again.
“What would you do with it?” he asks.
I hold the spoon in my one hand then tap my chin. “Hmm. I suppose hitting you with it wouldn’t do much. But I think if I had chucked it at your head hard enough, I could have potentially poked an eye out. Or at least stunned you enough to get a head start.” He laughs again, and the tingling warmth I feel in my belly spreads throughout my entire body.
“Maybe next time, reach for something sharper.”
“Are you suggesting you’d rather I’d come at you with a knife?”
His blue eyes turn serious. “I want you to be safe.”
A lump forms in my throat. Who is this man, and where the hell did he come from? We don’t know each other, but I one-hundred-percent believe that he would’ve accepted me coming at him with a knife had it been in self-defense. Maybe it’s because I’m his friend’s daughter, but I get an odd feeling it’s more than that.
“Good thing I’m safe with you, then,” I say honestly.
His self-assured gaze falters for a split second, but then he smiles gently. “Good thing.”
Chills zip up my spine, and my toes curl against the hardwood floor. I decide it’s time to eat—otherwise, we’ll stand here all night saying weird things to each other while I try to figure out if he’s into me or if he just wants to take care of me because he knows my dad.
“Will you take our wine to the dining table?” I ask. “I’ll plate everything up and bring it over.”
“Of course.” He picks up the broad-based glasses dutifully as I turn my focus to the chicken cacciatore. After I have everything plated how I like, I walk it slowly over to the way-too-beautiful man sitting at the table.
He watches my every move as I set the food down in front of him. I try to ignore how it feels, how every part of me tingles with his focus on me like that, but it’s hard to do. So once the food is out of my hands, I head to the kitchen to grab a salad from the fridge I’d made earlier and take a deep breath. When I arrive back at the table, Elijah is eyeing his dinner plate like it’s the Eighth Wonder of the World.
“Go ahead, eat,” I tell him as I take the seat at the head of the table with him to my right. I smooth out my purple-colored skirt of the sundress I put on and place my napkin over my lap.
Elijah looks up from his plate, and in place of his intense gaze is pure excitement. “This looks beautiful.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, reaching for my fork.
As I pick it up, his hand covers mine. “It’s not nothing,” Elijah says.
I stare at his warm hand over mine, the veins prominent as he squeezes. Without thinking of it, I flip my hand over, and our palms meet. To my surprise, he takes the offering and holds my hand with steady pressure as I look at his handsome face.
His smile is sincere and gentle as he says, “Really, Alex. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. Thank you.” Then he pulls back his hand, and I’m left staring at my now burning palm, feeling as if he marked me somehow with that simple touch and his gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” I reply quietly, trying to get it together. I grab my wine and take a sip, hoping the alcohol can knock some sense into me.
There is no reason for me to be so attracted to Elijah. He’s my dad’s friend, for one. He also works with him.
And there’s the little fact that he’s older than me, though that doesn’t really matter. I’ve always said that if people are consenting adults, they can do what they want. But I know my dad would take issue with it.
I dated a man in his mid-fifties once, when I was twenty-five. Dad hated it, and I get why from his perspective since the man was close to his age. But that relationship was stable and fun. We didn’t work out in the end because we had different plans for our lives. He already had children and didn’t want more. I, on the other hand, knew I wanted babies. That desire has only grown as the years have gone on.
Sean’s face enters my mind for a split second, and I take another sip of wine. Nope, we’re not thinking about him. Or any of my exes, for that matter. Not when I have a man who I think is single in front of me. Because I for sure have already double-checked for a ring, and there isn’t one.
I give my full attention back to Elijah as he brings a forkful of food to his mouth, his eyelids closing as his lips wrap around the metal of the fork. I don’t miss the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth as he chews.
When a gentle moan reaches my ears, the tips of them turn pink, and I swear a bolt of electricity hits my clit.
“You like it?” I ask, my voice breathier than I expected it to be.
He savors the flavor of it for another moment before opening his eyes. “‘Like’ is an understatement. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I think I go into a full-body blush. Something I can’t hide because of my fair skin, a trait I’ve been told I inherited from my mom’s side of the family.
“That can’t be true. If you’re friends with my dad, you’ve been to the best restaurants in the city. Maybe even the world.”
At the mention of my dad, Elijah seems to tense a bit, and I make a mental note to mention him as little as possible. Especially since I want to explore this buzzing attraction between us.
“Oliver does have expensive taste. But I prefer meals that are made with love. And this,” he says with conviction, pointing his fork at his plate, “has been made with love.”
Yep, I’ve definitely turned the color of the tomato sauce. “That’s really nice of you.” I exhale, trying to calm my blush. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t had the chance to cook recently. But I do love it. Especially when I can cook for other people.”
I take a bite of my own food and let out a little groan myself as the rich sauce hits my taste buds.
Elijah clears his throat and shifts in his chair. “What have you been busy with?” he asks, sounding genuine. “If you don’t mind sharing.”
I shake my head and swallow. “No, not at all.” I take another sip of my wine as I think of how to answer this question. “I was engaged until about six months ago. We broke it off, which created a lot of chaos.”
“How so?”
I grab the open bottle of Chianti Elijah brought to the table and refresh my glass. His is still mostly full, so I set the bottle back down then take another long drink.
“You don’t have to say if it upsets you, Alex.”
I express appreciation for his thoughtfulness with a soft, grateful smile. “It doesn’t upset me.”
Elijah brings his attention to the wine in my hand, and I huff a light laugh.
“It’s more annoying than anything, really,” I continue. “Sean and I weren’t compatible in the end. So we broke it off. And while we hadn’t started doing much wedding planning, the breakup caused a ripple effect in our social circles.” I put my wine down. “But that’s boring and stupid. The bigger issue was that we lived together so I had to move. Do you know how hard it is to find a place that isn’t infested with roaches at a reasonable price in Los Angeles?”
Elijah swallows his bite of food, his brow pinching like I’ve noticed it does when he’s thinking. Even when he’s not doing it, I can see the fine lines on his forehead from his years of scrunching. I want to reach out and smooth the skin with my thumb. Thankfully, I have some self-restraint.
“I have to say I haven’t had to look for a place in a long time. But I’ve heard the market is bad,” he says.
“I live on a teacher’s salary, so finding a place in my budget near my school isn’t easy, either.”
Again, Elijah’s brow pinches. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then he closes it again.
“What is it?” I ask.
He sets his fork down and wipes his mouth. His blue gaze penetrates mine again. “Forgive me if this is rude, but I would think Oliver would be glad to help you.”
I grin. The question doesn’t offend me. I’ve grown up with privilege and get asked questions like this all the time.
“He would,” I say, warming at all the times my dad has slipped money into my account only for me to return it. “And trust me, he’s wanted to. But after I graduated college and got my first job, I refuse to take his money. I like to buy my own things, pay my own way. That was something Sean and I argued over a lot, too.”
I stop myself from getting angry thinking of the arguments we used to get into. One time, I gave my credit card to the waiter at a nice restaurant, and he was pissed for two days after, saying I made him look like a broke idiot who couldn’t pay for his fiancée’s dinner. That was one giant red flag that made me start to question everything with him.
“Can I ask you something?” Elijah says, his brow still pinched.
“Only if you promise to relax.”
Elijah raises an eyebrow at me. “I am relaxed.”
My restraint crumbles, or maybe the wine is hitting my system, but I can’t stop myself. I reach across the table and press my thumb into his forehead, against where the skin is scrunched. The whole time, Elijah sits in his chair, his eyes watching me carefully. It doesn’t escape me that his breath has picked up at my touch and nearness.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that if you keep your face a certain way for too long, it will get stuck that way?” I tease, moving my thumb across the textured skin.
Elijah expels a breathy laugh, and his brow finally relaxes. Satisfied, I lower my hand and sit back in my chair. “See, was that so hard?” I ask.
He beams and reaches for his glass, taking a long sip. “Thanks for your help.”
I make a silly salute. “Anytime.”
With a shake of his head and a long exhale, Elijah’s shoulders relax, too. I top off his wine for him after he sets it down, and then we settle back into our meals.
We take a few more bites before I ask, “What was it you wanted to know?”
He swallows his bite of food. “Honestly, this is more of a selfish thing to ask.”
“Ooh.” I smirk. “Go on.”
He chuckles. “Oliver speaks about you quite often, but he never mentioned you got engaged or that you were even dating anyone. I wonder why he never spoke of it.”
I chew and swallow another bite of food as curiosity fills me. “Why is that selfish?”
The hand that was bringing Elijah’s wine to his lips pauses in midair. His brow almost furrows again, but he stops it. “It’s only that your dad and I are close. That is a huge deal in your child’s life, and he said nothing. It makes me think we aren’t that close.”
“Oh, no, don’t think that,” I answer. “It doesn’t surprise me that he didn’t say anything. He hated Sean. My dad hates all the men I date.” Elijah’s brow pinches once more, and I wonder why that made him bristle.
But I soldier on. “Sean swept me off my feet with promises of settling down, babies, all the things I told him I wanted when we first started seeing each other. But Dad suspected from the beginning that he was dating me for some weird status thing and to help get one of his new media businesses off the ground. Dad wasn’t very happy when we got engaged, but he went along with it because he thought I was happy.”
“And you weren’t?” Elijah asks.
I shrug, pushing my near-empty plate away. “I was at first. Or at least I think I was. Honestly, I don’t know. I think I was happy with the idea of Sean more than anything. And eventually, from what I could tell, Dad was right. When I started talking about family plans more aggressively, our already meager wedding planning halted altogether. After months of nothing, I finally told him either he wanted a family with me, or he didn’t. His silence told me everything, so I broke it off.”
Elijah sets his fork down on his empty plate. “I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Don’t be sorry. Do you want more food?”
He pats his stomach. “If I eat any more, I’ll burst. But thank you again. You didn’t have to feed me after I intruded on your getaway.”
“Technically, we both kind of intruded on each other’s getaways.”
“At least let me help you with the dishes.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s no trouble. I like doing dishes.”
My eyes narrow at him. “You’re lying.”
A nice smile graces his lips, enough that he shows me his straight white teeth. “It’s relaxing. I like the repetitiveness.”
“Interesting. I guess we make a good team then, because dishes are my least favorite part.”
“Then I’d be glad to help.”
“You wash, I dry?” I ask, pushing up from the table.
Elijah stands with me, offering his hand like we’re making a gentleman’s agreement. “Deal,” he says.
With an amused smirk, I put my hand in his warm palm and shake.
“Deal.”