Chapter 5
5
MALLORIE
I was in the weeds. In college, while working as a server in a restaurant near campus, I’d heard the kitchen crew use that term when they were overwhelmed with orders.
But this wasn’t a restaurant. It was the kitchen in a cabin that wasn’t even mine. I didn’t have some boss breathing down my neck. So why was I so stressed?
A knock on the door answered that question. Crap buckets. It was already seven? I pulled open the oven and checked on the garlic bread. Not quite ready yet.
Sighing, I tossed the oven mitt onto the counter and rushed to the door, jerking it open. Only when I was face-to-face with my dinner guest did I remember I was supposed to take the time to straighten up and look calm before opening the door. His wide-eyed, alarmed expression quickly reminded me, though.
I took a deep breath and summoned a smile. “Come on in.”
Gosh darn, he was handsome. So handsome. And somehow, just looking at him had calmed me a little, and I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was his bulky build and bulging muscles. He could take care of anyone who tried to mess with me.
But I had a feeling it was more in the neutral expression on his face. Nothing seemed to rattle him—not even the smoke pouring from his car last night.
Speaking of which. “Did you get your truck back?”
Memphis shook his head. “Brock couldn’t get to it today.”
I shut the door behind him and smiled to myself as I headed back to the kitchen. That meant he’d need a ride tomorrow morning. I’d have another reason to see him after tonight. I was surprised by how much I liked knowing that.
“It smells amazing,” he said.
That was the garlic bread. “Oh crap,” I said, rushing back to the stove.
I grabbed the potholder and pulled open the oven door. Sure enough, the garlic bread had gone from underdone to overdone in a matter of seconds. That was the way it always seemed to go.
“The bread got a little crispy on the edges,” I said, pulling it out and setting it on the stove.
I’d expected Memphis to head over to the table and stand awkwardly, but instead, he came directly into the kitchen. As always, his presence seemed to fill the area. There was just a tension in the air when we were near each other.
“Looks great to me,” he said. “I like my bread with a little char on it.”
I looked over at him. He was humoring me, I was sure. But he was looking around.
“Let’s grab a plate and dig in,” he said.
“I can plate it up and bring it to the table.”
He shook his head. “You’ve done all this. I may as well help out.”
I looked at the prepared food on the stove, ready to be served. Normally, plating would be part of the process, but it was spaghetti and meatballs. It wasn’t like I could make it look all that fancy.
“Thank you.” I pointed to the cabinet directly in front of him. “That’s where I keep the bowls.”
I would have reached over and grabbed them myself, but he was kind of in the way, and I wasn’t sure if he’d think I was invading his space if I stepped closer. He reached up, opened the cabinet, and withdrew two wide-lipped, rimmed bowls that I pointed out.
He handed me one. “Ladies first.”
I scooped a generous pile of noodles onto my plate, followed by sauce. I thought about what he’d said that morning—something about not being used to being driven. He’d gone quiet after that, so I didn’t mention it, but it wasn’t like he was specifically uncomfortable about a woman doing the driving. I had a feeling it had a little more to do with not being in control.
But ladies first? That was pure gentleman, all the way. Although I’d spent most of my life hearing that I should be independent and not rely on a man, there was something nice about being taken care of. I’d never had that, and I found I wanted it more than I’d imagined I would.
Once we were settled at the table, the real nervousness kicked in. It was hard to deny this was an actual date. I’d invited him over and cooked for him. I’d even spent extra time getting ready. It took a lot of work to look like I wasn’t even trying to look good.
What did someone talk about on a date with a man who’d definitely lived an interesting life? My first instinct was to ask questions, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about his past. There was a darkness about him that hinted at something he was trying hard to forget.
“So, what made you want to become a lawyer?” he asked after digging into the food, showing his clear surprise at how good it was.
I gave full credit to my grandmother. It was her recipe. But he pointed out that I was the one who’d carried out that recipe. I personally credited my good genes. Granny B. passed her cooking skills down to me.
“My parents went through a rough divorce when I was a teenager,” I said. “My dad was never around much. Always ‘working.’” I set down my fork and did air quotes with the word before picking it back up again. “He pretty much screwed my mom through the court system. Watching what she went through, I decided I wanted to dedicate my life to helping women navigate the divorce process.”
It hadn’t been easy, considering Mom struggled just to pay the bills. I’d gotten scholarships to cover part of my undergrad, but my law degree was putting me deep in student loan debt.
But I was hoping to make enough to pay it back once I actually graduated. That was part of the reason I was working so hard. I wanted to cram in as much as possible each semester so I could graduate and start earning money.
“And your mom is the one who lives in Boone?”
I nodded. “My dad moved to Canada soon after the divorce. I saw him once the first summer, and I found a way to get out of it every year after that.”
His neutral expression gave nothing away. Was he judging me? Feeling sorry for me that I had such a shitty relationship with my father?
“It had little to do with him,” I rushed to add. “I was a teenager. I wanted to spend summers with my friends. I also did a lot of babysitting when I was in my early teens. I didn’t want to give up the money.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “That’s exactly why I never wanted to be a father.”
I stopped chewing for a second to stare at him. He didn’t want to be a father? That should be good news for me. He didn’t want any children. Maybe that meant he didn’t want anything more serious than this. And neither did I.
So why did it feel like my heart sank a little at that comment? Why did it seem like bad news?
“I go in the opposite direction,” I finally said after I swallowed. “To prove I can be a better parent than mine were. I’m going to kick ass as a mom…someday.”
I said that last word clearly and succinctly. My goal was to make it clear I had no plans for any of that stuff in the near future.
“After you’re established in your career, I assume?” he asked.
“Exactly. I swore off dating. I just wanted to avoid taking the focus off getting my degree as fast as possible.”
“So you can start on your future.”
I nodded. “I’m not someone who just dates for fun. I’m a hopeless romantic. When I lose my virginity?—”
He started choking, reaching for his glass of water to get a handle on things. Meanwhile, I was left realizing what I’d just blurted out. I hadn’t even meant to drop that bomb on him. Maybe it was his neutral expression. Or maybe I just felt like I could be open with him. Whatever the case, the words came pouring out, and it was too late to take them back.
“Did you just say you’re a virgin?” he asked.
May as well go with it now. I took a deep breath, set down my fork, and wiped my mouth before speaking.
“It sneaks up on you, you know,” I said. “One day, you’re sixteen, and it’s not all that unusual to not have had sex yet. Then you’re seventeen, then eighteen, and one by one, your friends start leaving you behind. And now, here I am at twenty-three, and I don’t know anyone who’s a virgin. Well, except one of my high school friends.”
I assumed Cassady wasn’t one anymore. I hadn’t asked her questions about her new boyfriend. To be honest, she was so busy, I hadn’t even seen her lately. She was no doubt in that madly-in-love phase where she wanted to spend every second with her new man.
Maybe I was relating all too well to that right now. I could see giving up time with the girls if it meant looking at this handsome face. And that wasn’t like me at all. I was usually the first to say I’d never give up girl time when I found a guy. Why did I suddenly see myself becoming one of those women?
“So you’re going to wait until you graduate to do something about that?” he asked.
It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. How could I have forgotten so soon?
“I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, it’s not exactly on my to-do list, but I can say I’m not the type of person who would just sleep with someone for the sake of sleeping with him.”
“You have to be in love?”
“No.”
I was frowning by then. I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. I’d spent very little time examining my thoughts on this matter.
“I mean, I guess I’d have to have more than a physical attraction to the person. I don’t have to marry him, but I’d want it to be more than just a one-time fling, you know?”
He nodded. “I get it. I was never much for casual sex either.”
Just hearing him say the word “sex” did something to me. Warmth spread through my whole body, centering on the area between my legs.
“I think I’d want it to be someone like you,” I said.
Now I really had his attention. He’d sliced off his second piece of garlic bread and took a generous bite. I worried he might choke again, but he managed to keep his cool, neutral expression in place.
I, for one, could not believe I’d actually said those words. What was going on with me? I was known for being direct, but I’d never been able to talk about stuff like this, even with my closest friends.
“Older and more experienced?” he asked. “Hot and highly intelligent?”
“All of the above. Nobody I’ve ever met has gotten me this close to considering it.”
There. My face was warm, and I knew it was probably showing. I was pretty fair-complected, and my cheeks tended to turn red when I was feeling shy.
“Well, I can say this,” he said. “I’ve never met a woman like you, and it’s been a long time since I’ve even thought about breaking my no-women rule. But you definitely have me thinking about it.”