Page 32 of Soaring and Saucy

This was serious.

Everything.

Stephanie’s feelings were on the line, and it wasn’t just him fooling around, flirting with her, or trying to win her heart. There was real damage that could occur to someone he respected tremendously. He recognized why he was so nervous about a relationship or commitment now. It was because he was afraid that he would fail her, falling short of the man she needed him to be.

And that terrifying monster in the dark now had a face.

His.

10

STEPHANIE

This was going to be so hard to be strong around Lance, she thought wildly trying to will her heartbeat to slow down somewhat. That man was just too pretty for his own good, and when you combined that charm with all those sexual advances and innuendo tossed in her direction – it was a lethal mix that was going to bring down her resolve like a ton of bricks.

In the two months since she had last seen him, he appeared a little more tan than before and just as devastatingly gorgeous, but there was something else. There was a vulnerability in his eyes when he looked at her now like he was scared of her.

I knew he wasn’t the type to stick around, and I must have been a fool to toss out a condition like marriage to the first guy who looked at me sideways, she thought silently, clutching her robe tightly around her as she watched him get out of her car with the marriage license.

Men like him were ‘players’ always searching for the next bit of fun around town. They weren’t the type to settle for one person, but a part of her desperately wished he was. As he walked up, he looked at her strangely and gave her a slight smile before nodding.

“Let’s get you inside and off your feet. You look tired, and dinner is probably almost ready.”

That half-decent comment, the vulnerable feelings within her, combined with a gentle hand on her back, was a lot. She had felt so stuck, so very alone lately, and that simple morsel of kindness was her undoing. Blinking back tears, she couldn’t look at him as he led her inside, talking to her.

“I’m a horrible cook, and usually the mess hall handles everything, but I can follow directions and learn, right?” Lance began quietly, chuckling softly as he pulled a baking sheet out of the oven. “When I was a boy, we were dirt broke and my mama would make these for me. Even when I go home and visit, she’ll still do it.”

“You call your mother ‘Mama’?” she asked thickly, touched by this sudden side of him. “What is it she makes? It smells good.”

“I don’t care how old I get. She’ll always be my mama… and will still whoop me with a flip-flop if I get outta line,” he chuckled, joking with her as she stared at him, fascinated. “Mamas and Grandmas are special like that, you know? Some guys hang out with their dads, but I was always a mama’s boy. My dad held two jobs when I was growing up, so I wasn’t as close to him, and I guess that scares me because of my job.”

That simple statement was telling. She felt her lip wobble as her chin quivered, about to have a royal sob situation… only to hear him speak.

“Do you like pigs in a blanket? Man, my pigs look more like bloated, half-dead swine right now, and I must have done something wrong. Mama’s don’t look like this in the slightest,” he volunteered, sliding a plate in front of her with a single curled hot dog almost in a ‘C’ shape with two mauled biscuits around the weiner, flopped open, and cooked like that. It was so weird, so strange looking, and so unexpected that she burst out laughing tearfully and looked at him. His dark eyes softened as he smiled tenderly at her.

“Can’t say I didn’t try…”

“No, that’s true,” she offered, nodding and reaching for a napkin from the holder on the table to dab her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a hormonal mess for two or three weeks now, and I cannot help it. It just hits all of a sudden.”

“It’s fine and perfectly understandable.”

“It’s not fine when you start crying at animal shelter commercials – that is how you end up with a herd of dogs.”

“It’s a pack… and I don’t think anyone would blame you,” he smiled, getting his plate and sitting down opposite of her. “Let’s eat while it’s hot, and then we can do something weirdly normal, like sit on the couch together and talk or watch television. I can pass you a tissue if the threat of puppies suddenly appears on the screen. Nefarious little fur monsters…”

“Oh, hush up,” she wept, reaching for another napkin in sheer dismay because all of this normalcy and sweetness was completely disarming her.

“Mustard?”

“Ketchup.”

“Welp, we’re done,” he teased openly, nudging the bottle toward her. “Maybe I should get rid of that license after all.”

“Probably,” she admitted, wiping her eyes. “I mean, you haven't seen the sacrilege that is my normal go-to snack.”

“Oh?”

“Doritos dipped in blue cheese dressing,” she confessed, expecting him to flinch and he just smirked, lifting an eyebrow at her again. “What?”

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