Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Steff checked the oven and saw the cheese was beginning to bubble just like Astrid had said it would in the video she watched. Dalton should be here any minute, and then she would be able to serve it almost immediately.
She could’ve held off putting the Shephard’s Pie into the oven for about another ten minutes, to give them time to talk before eating, but it didn’t matter to her. They could just as easily talk after they’d eaten.
The building’s front door buzzer sounded, and she smiled, knowing it had to be Dalton. She pressed her intercom button. “Hello.”
“Is that Steffanie Price?” A strange man’s voice filled her apartment, and her happy mood dissipated as quickly as a squirt of perfume in the air.
“Who’s this?” Her name wasn’t listed by her apartment number. How had he known who she was? And where she lived?
“I’ve got a delivery for you, if you’re Steffanie Price.”
Steff let go of the button and took a deep breath.
She hadn’t ordered anything. And when she did order something, she had them leave it in the lobby and she would collect it later.
One of the reasons she’d moved into the building was because of the ability to allow people into the building’s lobby only.
Or press the other button on her apartment’s intercom console which would unlock the front door and the elevator for three minutes, plenty of time for a person to get inside and into the elevator.
Most times, she was able to not list her apartment number, but if she had to, then she used her neighbor’s.
Mrs. Baker had been lovely about it when she’d moved in and asked her if it was possible.
She hadn’t questioned Steff as to why, she’d just said yes.
If she had, Steff had a story made up to explain away her request. Perhaps there had been something Mrs. Baker had seen which had convinced her that the circumstances for Steff asking weren’t normal.
The buzzer sounded again, and Steff jumped. “Sorry about that,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear the worry in her voice.
“That’s okay, ma’am. You are Steffanie Price, right?”
“I’m in the middle of something. Please leave the box in the lobby.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I need to hand it to you.” He sounded affable enough, but his voice had lost a bit of the cheeriness it had seconds ago.
How did she get around this?
The last thing she wanted was for a delivery guy to come up to her apartment.
Nor did she want to go down and meet him.
Never before had she had a delivery person be a stickler for protocols.
Most were happy to dump it and run as they usually had a full truck of items, and any time they could catch up on their delivery schedule, they were happy to.
Her buzzer sounded a third time. “I’m thinking,” she said, getting irritated at the guy.
“Steff, it’s me Ja-Dalton. I grabbed that delivery for you. Hope that’s okay.”
“Oh my god, yes. Thank you.” She immediately buzzed him in, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wasn’t going to go into a panic attack, but the fear had been real. Thank goodness Dalton had turned up and was able to help her out, and she didn’t have to let a total stranger up.
Although the guy said he had to hand it to her, why had he been happy to give it to Dalton?
What did it matter how or why, the problem had been solved, and she hadn’t had to leave her apartment. She’d find out what was in the package when Dalton arrived.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door and a muffled, “It’s Jag.” She smiled that he’d used his nickname and not his first name like he had when he’d buzzed her apartment.
She supposed it was confusing for him with her calling him Dalton and all his friends calling him Jag.
Steff made a mental note to ask him what he preferred, and she’d call him that.
All her life she’d been Steff, even though her full name was Steffanie.
Her parents had never called her Steffanie, they’d always used Steff, and she never asked them why.
She’d never find out now, and it didn’t matter.
Steff hurried over to the door and pulled it open. Dalton stood holding a big box, along with a plastic bag containing two bottles of wine hanging from two of his fingers. “Goodness, let me help you.”
She went to reach for the box, but Dalton lifted it a fraction. “It’s good, I’ve got it. It’s not that heavy.”
“Okay. Come in.” She stepped to the side to allow him to pass.
As he went past, she caught a whiff of his fresh pine scent. It reminded her of the aspens in Colardo when she’d gone skiing one year with friends from college. It had been a fun trip, and at a time when life had consisted of studying and partying without a care in the world.
Life had been easier then, but then tragedy had struck and her parents had died, and the realities of how hard life could be set in. If only she’d known at the time that her parents’ deaths weren’t even the hardest thing she’d ever endure.
“Something smells good.” Dalton placed the box on her coffee table and sniffed the air. “Which one of Astrid’s delights are you making?”
“Her Shephard’s Pie.”
Dalton groaned. “Oh yum, my favorite.”
Steff laughed. “I thought her stuffed mushrooms were your favorite.” She had thought about making them, but she didn’t want to do it wrong and then spoil them for Dalton. So, she’d stuck with the pie. It wasn’t complicated to make.
“I think you’ll find out, the more we hang out together, that everything is my favorite.”
“You don’t have one favorite thing at all?” Did she have a favorite food or drink? She loved Coke and chocolate. They definitely were hers.
“Why settle for one when you can have many?” He came up to her and placed a kiss on her cheek. The action spontaneous, and her skin tingled from the brief touch.
It was also the first time he’d done it without silently asking for her permission, and she was okay with that. She was glad. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to always ask.
Steff understood why he was doing it, and she loved him for it. But in her mind, it wasn’t necessary anymore, as they weren’t strangers now. How could they be after what he’d done for her?
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” She glanced at the box sitting on the table. It was a generic brown box. Nothing out of the ordinary. Yet she was still apprehensive about opening it, particularly as there were no markings of the company where it had come from.
“Do you want to open it?” Dalton asked, following the line of her gaze.
“We’ll eat first. Dinner was almost ready when they buzzed me about it. I’m assuming it was the postal service that delivered it?”
“No, it looked like a personal courier.”
That set her nerves off even more. “Oh.”
Why did she always default to something bad was going to happen when anything came out of the blue?
Maybe Cynthia sent her a gift? Or Teresa. Or someone else from her old job.
She quickly discarded those thoughts because why would they be sending stuff to her now, when she hadn’t spoken to anyone from her old job in two years, and Teresa would’ve delivered it herself? Same with Cynthia.
“Talk to me Steff, I can see something’s troubling you.”
“It’s probably nothing. Let me check dinner. I don’t want it to get burned.” She made her way to the kitchen and immediately grabbed the oven mitts she’d left on the top of her oven and slipped them on.
Steff heard Dalton moving behind her, close enough for her to be aware of his presence, but not close enough to inhibit her movements. A puff of steam wafted from the oven when she opened it, and she leaned back to let it pass before reaching in and pulling out the dish.
“Don’t tell Astrid, but that looks even better than hers,” Dalton said right over her shoulder.
The cheese was a beautiful golden color. The aroma of the meat and herbs, mingling with the tomato from the sauce she’d used, had her stomach grumbling in appreciation. “You haven’t tasted it yet, so I’d be holding any praise if I were you.”
“Something that smells and looks as good as that is going to taste divine. Do you want some wine? I got two bottles; one is non-alcoholic, and the other is alcoholic. Both are white, and the guy at the liquor store assured me they both taste good.”
“I’ve never had non-alcoholic before, shall we try that?”
“We can. I’ll put the other bottle in the fridge, and we can try it next time.” Dalton strode back to the living room to pick up the bag where he’d left it.
Steff liked the sound of next time—a lot.
As Dalton opened the bottle of wine and poured it into the wine glasses she’d gotten out for him, she cut the pie and put it onto two plates.
It didn’t stay the perfect square like she’d sliced it, but that was fine.
Steam rose from the pieces as she placed them on the table.
“We might need to let this cool before we dig in.”
“I don’t mind if it’s scalding hot, when you’re out in the jungle and eating lukewarm MRE’s, you appreciate a good hot meal even more when you have them.”
“MRE’s? What are they?” She forked a portion of her pie up and blew on it to cool it down.
“Meals Ready to Eat. They’re not the tastiest things to have, but they’re full of carbs and fit easily into our packs. You get used to them after a while. Even the most basic of home cooked meals are tastier after you’ve been eating MREs for over a month.”
“I’m sure they would be.”
Dalton took his first bite and groaned, his eyes drifting shut. “Yep, so good. And I still stand by the fact that it’s better than Astrid’s.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.” Although she couldn’t deny the thrill at thinking her food tasted better than a well-known celebrity chef’s did.
His smile dropped and his whole countenance became serious. “I think I’ve already told you I won’t lie to you.”
There was nothing threatening about his words, but Steff sat back a little at the intensity coming off him in waves. “I-I’m sorry.” She ducked her head as she felt the sting of tears prick the back of her eyes.
“Fuck, Steff. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You di-didn’t.” God, now she was the liar.
“I did. Look at me, hon,” he said gently.
She looked up and found nothing but compassion in his blue eyes. He really was being gracious to her when he should call her out for the very thing he promised he’d never do to her. “I’m sorry I lied,” she whispered.
How had they gone from being relaxed and chatting normally, to her ready to bolt in her own home?
Dalton moved until he was squatting in front of her, his hand resting lightly on her knee.
“No, I was the one who went over the top. I scared you, and I’m annoyed at myself for causing you distress.
I know why you said I didn’t scare you. I understand why you did what you did. I’m not angry at you for that.”
His words soothed her, and the fear that had clawed up her back receded. “If you can say you won’t lie to me, and I know you mean it, I should be able to give you the same back. I promise I won’t lie to you again.”
He smiled, and her insides melted a little at the way one corner of his mouth seemed to lift a little higher. He was so good looking, and she didn’t know why he was interested in her when she was such a mess. “I don’t need that promise, but I appreciate it.”
They gazed at each other for a long moment. His hand remained on her leg, a welcoming weight that didn’t frighten her. She’d talked to her therapist about Dalton’s presence in her life at the moment, and Donelle had encouraged Steff to take baby steps.
Deep in her soul, she knew that if she asked Dalton to move away, or to stop what he was doing with her, he would—without question.
“We should finish our meal, I’m not sure it will taste as good cold,” she said, breaking the bubble they’d been existing in.
“We can’t have that.” He stood and brushed his fingers across her cheek, her skin tingling in its wake.
There wasn’t much conversation as they finished eating. Steff didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, as it was comfortable, as if they’d had a million meals together, not just two.