Chapter 16 #3
“No, I had an interior designer pull this together for me.” He scratched the back of his head. “I told her I wanted it to be warm and comfortable.” He peered at me. “Do you, uh, do you like it?”
“Yes, it’s all you. It’s rough, yet warm. I think she delivered what you asked for.” I side-hugged him.
“Good. Well, let’s get these steaks started.” He strode to the long kitchen island and picked up a plate with two ribeye steaks, smothered in seasoning. “I used Montreal Steak seasoning. I hope you like it. Most people do.”
“Good.” I didn’t know what that was. I followed him through a set of open sliding pocket doors and onto his covered patio.
The right offered an outdoor kitchen and dinette, while on the left, the patio furniture formed an outdoor living room with a television hanging on the outside wall of the house.
“This is a great location for a party.” I stuffed my hands into the front pockets of my jeans as I turned my gaze onto his long pool, stretching into desert landscaping, and beyond, the jagged McDowell Mountains. “You have a marvelous view, too.”
“Thanks.” He lifted the lid on the barbecue and dropped the steaks on the grate. Sizzling filled the air along with the scent of beef with a hint of garlic and onion. So far, I’d approved of the seasoning he used. As a hunger pang spread through my stomach, I rubbed my hand over it.
“Hungry?” He shut the barbecue lid and strode toward me. “Would you like some red wine? I have a few decent bottles. Jett Jarvis taught me what wine to buy. He’s from California.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s a wine snob, or so I’ve heard Mason say.” I chuckled. They made quite a pair, but their differences complemented each other. “Yes, do you have a Merlot?” I was in the mood for a heavier wine.
“I do.” Rubbing his palms together, he flashed me a grin and jogged into the house.
I stood on the patio, watching the setting sun throw hues of orange and turquoise across the sky. It was nice here. Quiet. Unlike my place, which always had the sounds of the restaurants and bars below it. No wonder Margot didn’t want to leave.
He returned with two fat, stemless glasses of wine. “Here.” Handing me one, he stood beside me. “I have mashed potatoes warming and a salad already prepared.” He held his glass up. “To a second nice evening alone?”
“Yes, exactly.” I tapped my glass on his and sipped it, the strong oak flavors mixing with a hint of spice on my tongue. “Wow, that’s good.”
“Thank Jett next time you see him.” With a chuckle, he strode to the barbecue and flipped the steaks. “They’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“Can I do anything to help?” I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cooked me dinner. Cooking had been a necessary evil back in college, usually comprising frozen pizza or ramen noodles when it was a late night and all the restaurants were closed.
“You can set the table. I laid everything out on the kitchen island inside the house.” He checked the steaks with a long electronic thermometer.
“Sure.” I set my wine on the dinette and then headed inside to do my part.
After plating our food and sitting at the table with the wine bottle centering it, I looked over my meal.
The steak sat in a pool of juice, and the mashed potatoes had a large pat of butter melting over them.
“This looks delicious, Alex. I think it’s probably better than most of the restaurants in Old Town.
” With a grin, I picked up my knife and fork and cut into my steak.
“Thanks, Julian. I’m glad we could do this together.” He scooped mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Hey, did you ever speak with Ian?”
“I did.” After eating a bite of steak, I said, “I told him I wasn’t interested in getting back together.” Should I disclose the entire conversation? Maybe not. He only needed to know that I’d rejected his offer.
“How did he take it?” Alex’s eyes narrowed as he chewed some steak.
Now I had to tell him more. “He wasn’t happy, but eventually he understood, and we left our status as friends.” I sipped my wine.
“Okay.” His mouth tensed. “I must admit, I don’t like the idea of you meeting him for meals anytime soon.” He stuck his fork into his salad. “I mean, he still has feelings for you.”
“I don’t have any current plans to hang out with him, and it doesn’t matter.” I covered his hand with mine while it rested beside his plate. “I only have feelings for you.” The irony—here he was, living with a woman who’d kissed him a few nights ago.
He studied me as if pondering my words. “Yeah, okay.” He ate more steak. “After we eat, let’s watch a movie and let our food digest before, uh, you know.”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Before we fool around?” My dick woke. Simple blow jobs would be nice. My ass was still a little sore after last night’s pounding.
“Yes.” With a flush climbing across his cheeks, he shook his head. “Though, maybe we should get it out of the way and then watch the movie.”
“Or maybe we blow each other while watching the movie.” I ticked my brows at him. Yes, I was putting ideas into his head.
He adjusted himself. “Or that.” He shoveled more potatoes into his mouth.