Page 8 of Losing Hope

He found a large bowl and began mixing the pasta and sauce together with some tongs. “I didn’t put any meat in the sauce. I wasn’t sure if you were a vegetarian or vegan or whatever.”

“Nope, but thanks. I like my meat.” Her face turned beet red at her comment, and his mind took the same dirty turn ashers.

Eyebrows raised, he just replied, smiling, “Good to know for future reference.”

“Oh, do you plan on being around long enough to cook for me some more?” she jokingly replied. They had both sat down at the table now, and he began scooping pasta onto her plate. She held out her hand to indicate he had served enough.

“Well, you did say that I was the best date you’d had in a while.” He scooped some of the pasta on his plate and then placed the bowl on the table. Picking up his glass and tipping it toward her, he smiled smugly. “Bon appetite!”

She clinkedher glass against his and took another long sip of her wine. Why did this feel so much like a date? She had planned on a quiet weekend alone, and now, she was sitting here by lamp light, in her pajamas, drinking wine and eating dinner with a complete stranger. It didn’t help that the stranger was pretty damn good looking and could cook, not to mention light a fire and drag trees out of the road. Did she mention how good he looked?

As if Gage could sense her looking at him, he raised his eyes up to meet hers and smiled. “How isit?”

Hope twirled some of the pasta onto her fork and scooped it into her mouth. “Hmmm.” She hummed while chewing. “Sogood!”

He smiled broadly at the compliment and continued to eat. After they both had their fill, they sat at the table drinking the rest of the wine in their glasses.

“So, you said you were here shooting a wedding? You’re a photographerthen?”

He nodded his head in confirmation. “Yeah, I don’t generally do weddings, but it was for a buddy of mine’s brother who called in a favor.”

“So, what do you normally photograph then?” She had finished her wine, so she got up, gathered their dirty dishes, and walked over to place them in the sink. She held up the wine bottle in question to see if he wantedmore.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, why not? Not driving anywhere. You want help opening the bottle?”

She grabbed the bottle opener off the counter. “No, thanks. I’ve gotit.”

After popping the cork, she carried the bottle over to the table. “Want to go sit on the couches instead, over by the fire? It’s a lot more comfy.”

He stood up and grabbed both of their glasses. “Sure, sounds good to me. I think I’m still half-frozen from thatrain.”

He set the glasses down on the long coffee table in front of the couches and walked over to the fireplace. He removed the screen, threw a few more logs on the fire, and then replaced it. When he turned around, Hope was refilling both of their glasses. She picked them both up and walked over to stand in front of the fire with him, handing him his glass. This time, when their fingertips brushed, they both looked up, eyes meeting and holding.

“So, what kind of photography?” she spat out quickly, breaking eye contact before things got even stranger, and looked at thefire.

Gage wasn’tsure anymore if it was the fire, the wine, or the way she just looked at him that was making him warm. He didn’t think he was imagining the chemistry between them, and if the electric spark he felt when she handed him his wine was any indication, she was feeling it, too.

“Mostly freelance. I work for different publications, shooting whatever they need. I prefer outside shoots, more candid subjects, like animals, people and nature.”

She nodded her head, still seemingly focused on the fire. “Any gallery showings? I’d love to see yourwork.”

“I’ve had a couple. It’s not my favorite thing, really. I like being behind the lens and having the attention focused on someoneelse.”

Hope moved over and curled herself into the corner of the closest couch and then patted the seat next to her to indicate he should sit if he wanted. “Yes, I know a few photographers, and they all say the same thing.”

He moved over to the couch and sat a few feet away from her. He was afraid of what might happen if he got too close to her right now. “I have a website. Shows a lot of my work. I’ll write it down foryou.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” She took another sip of her wine, peeking under her lashes and over her glass athim.

Was it the wine, or was she eyeing him more and more as the night wenton?

“What?” he asked curiously.

Hope’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at getting caught looking at him again. “Nothing, just wondering.”

His eyebrows raised as he tilted his head. “About?”

“Um, I was just wondering where you’re from. I never asked.” She took another big sip of her wine to try to calm her nerves.

---