10. Old School Country #2
Once I was up, I moved to sit a cushion over from him so he didn’t feel overwhelmed.
He wasn't even in my home for thirty minutes, and I literally fell on his lap. I was burning up inside and out from embarrassment and want. Clearing my throat, I reached for my coffee and took a deep sip to cool myself off. It gave me something to focus on and kept my hands busy, so I didn’t pick at them or furiously rub them together.
I went to grab the cover and tuck my feet under me, but he grabbed me and pulled me into him and tucked me into his side. “That's better. I could feel you overthinking from over here.”
I rolled my eyes at him and flicked the TV on. “Anything sound good to watch? I’m usually not big on TV personally, but I have a few shows I like.”
“Nah, anything is fine, I promise.”
“Hmm, let’s see, how about Criminal Minds?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, I haven’t watched this in a long time, but I remember loving it. I think there are a few seasons I haven’t seen either.”
“That was the correct answer, although we’ll need to change the fact you haven’t seen all the episodes.”
We sat together and watched till it was time for me to start dinner.
Occasionally, we’d chime in about the unsubs or the cases.
Spencer absentmindedly traced random patterns on my skin wherever he could touch.
Even the times we lulled into silence weren’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite, actually.
Grabbing my phone from the table, I checked the time and noticed I needed to hop up and get to cooking. I decided to bring my speaker into the kitchen and set it on the island to play some music while I cooked.
The soft sounds of old school country and pops and sizzles from the stove filled the space as I set to work.
Spencer sat perched on a barstool, watching me as I moved around the kitchen, singing to myself as I did.
The savory scents of meat and fresh spices filled the air as I worked and mixed everything together, carefully layering the cooked pasta, sauce, and then cheeses together in the old blue speckled Pyrex dish.
A thin layer of sweat clung to my forehead from the heat of the kitchen. I grabbed the dish towel by the sink to wipe it away and faced Spencer.
“Alrighty, so now we have to let it cook in the oven for about an hour, and then it will be ready. Do you want a drink? I have a couple of different wines, and I have a bottle of whiskey too.”
“A whiskey gal, huh?” he said with his eyebrows raised in a questioning look.
“Sometimes, yeah, I like to mix it with Dr. Pepper and cherry or just straight if it’s been one of those days, ya know? When everything seems to go wrong, you rip your favorite shirt, slam your finger in the door, and drop your coffee all before lunch time.”
“That certainly sounds like a day you’d need some straight whiskey, maybe even multiple glasses.”
“Happened one too many times too.” I grabbed the bottle of whiskey out, two glasses, and poured us each one. Tilting my glass toward his, we clinked them, and I swallowed down the amber liquid to help ease some of the remaining nerves I still had.
While we stood there When You Say Nothing At All by Alison Krauss started to play.
Spencer stood from his spot at the bar, slowly walking toward me with a look I couldn’t quite place in his eyes.
He gently took the cup from my hand, setting both of ours on the island, and then pulled me into him as we started to slow dance in the kitchen.
“So country, huh?” he asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
“Yeah, I know it’s not everyone's cup of tea, but I love it. Songs like this also remind me of happier times with my mom when I was younger. She loved old school country, so I have a soft spot for it.”
The sun was starting to set, and the oranges and purples of the sky were beginning to peek through.
He looked into my eyes like they held every answer he had ever and would ever ask the universe.
Seeing someone look at me so longingly scared me.
I lay my head against his chest to break his eye contact while we moved around the kitchen.
He decided to spin me out and back against him, causing a laugh to bubble up, which turned into a snort.
“Oh my god, I can't believe I just snorted while you’re dancing with me. That’s got to be the most embarrassing thing I’ve done.” I shook my head and laughed. He slid his finger under my chin and tilted my head up so I could look him in the eyes.
“You know you don’t have to put down every little quirk you have, right?
I thought it was cute.” He shrugged, and I squirmed under his gaze because, again, I wasn’t used to having anyone besides my therapist and Emma call me out on my bullshit or hold me accountable.
We had only just met, but it was like I had known him for so much longer.
I didn’t know how to respond, so I averted his gaze.
“Allie, look at me.” His tone was gentle but firm. The command in his voice made me want to follow him, no questions asked, but it also made me want to not listen at all. I figured it was still too early to be my full bratty self, so I reluctantly shifted my gaze and looked at him.
“Good girl.” A shiver went up my spine, my breath caught, and my eyes fluttered closed.
Well, that was for sure a new kink unlocked for me.
“I don’t know everything about you yet, or what’s happened to you that makes you feel like you have to be so perfect all the time, but I’m going to do whatever I can to undo it and show you that it’s okay to have flaws and make mistakes. We all do it, it’s only human.”
“That definitely sounds like a heavy baggage conversation for another day.” I stepped back away from him and took in a deep breath, needing to clear my head. I wasn’t ready to dive into my issues, not yet. “Want to go out back and sit so I can let Dolly out?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, that would be nice. Dolly, come on, girl.” She perked right up and ran over to him, sitting down at his feet and looking at him like he was her favorite person. Same girl, same.
Spencer and I headed into the back yard.
This was one project I was really proud of.
My mom helped me hang fairy lights across the covered area, we found the cutest checkered-print outdoor rug to go with the patio furniture I found a deal on, and I had a grill set up too.
My papa was a grill master and taught me all I knew, so having one was a must.
It was also one of my favorite spots to read. Shelves were lined with different-sized lanterns and dotted with some smaller plants I found at our local nursery. Giant potted plants that my granny gave me were spread around the porch as well. It was the ultimate cozy outdoor spot.
That all too familiar pang of grief shot through me as memories of my granny and papa swarmed my mind.
It had been a little over three years since we lost my papa, and almost two since my granny.
There were so many times something would happen in life, and I’d reach for my phone to call and tell them, just to remember I couldn’t anymore.
As time continued to march on, the drowning sensation of grief resided, but in moments like this, knowing that Spencer would never meet two of the most important people to me, threatened to pull me back under.
We sat down on the sofa, and Spencer slung my legs across his and pulled me close to him.
The safe line we placed to keep this friendly was starting to blur.
I still hadn’t looked anything up regarding dating a coworker, but I was already caring less and less.
Spencer calmed me in a way that nothing and no one ever had.
The only other person's company I enjoyed this much was Emma’s.
We sat like that while he rubbed my calves.
I noticed throughout the day that he liked touching me and would do so at any chance he could get.
If he couldn’t, then he’d adjust himself to a position that he could.
We listened to the song of the outdoors, the cicadas singing and the grasshoppers chirping, while Dolly did laps around the yard, burning her energy.
It was so peaceful existing in each other's orbit, and we sat there for the longest time in companionable silence.
My timer went off to take the food out of the oven, so we wrangled Dolly to get her inside, and then I got to work making sure everything was finished.
I hadn’t cooked for anyone besides my mom, sister, and Emma, so part of me was nervous about whether he liked it.
I knew I was a good cook. My granny would teach me tips and tricks whenever I was at her house, and she always let me help her out.
It started with mixing bowls of batter, to learning how to properly coat and fry chicken, to learning her secret homemade cinnamon roll recipe that I still make to this day.
Lasagna was a fairly easy meal to cook, but I still wanted it to be perfect. Spencer helped me bring everything to the table while I turned the music down to background noise. I couldn’t help but watch as he dug in for his first bite. He closed his eyes and let out a hum as he did.
“Mmm, this is so good! I may need you to teach me how to make this because it’s delicious,” he said while trying to cover his mouth so he didn’t have food flying everywhere, which made me laugh.
“Seriously, this has to be the best lasagna I’ve ever had, and if you ever meet Carson’s mom, don’t tell her I told you that.
” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics.