Page 23 of When We Are Falling

Dressing fast, I make my way to the kitchen. The sound of the water running in the guest shower is a faint reminder that Blake is here, in my home. And I can’t believe it.

It’s like balancing on the edge of a precipice, gazing down at the glittering prize below, knowing that one wrong move could send me crashing down. The anticipation is both thrilling and terrifying, a heady mix of hope and fear.

I should hate this feeling. I spend my life trying to make sure all the variables are taken care of. But I’ve had a crush on Blake for years. The fact we’re edging closer to this thing I’ve wanted for so long but never really believed would happen is mind blowing.

Bandit is staring at me, so I fill his food bowl with food and start preparing a simple pasta dish. Water goes on to boil, then extra virgin olive oil into my enameled cast-iron skillet. Garlic and onions soon sizzle in the pan, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma.

Bandit finishes his food and turns to stare, watching as I drop the pasta into the rapidly boiling water. “Well, buddy, looks like we did it. Can you believe Blake is here? In our house?”

Bandit tilts his head, as if he’s actually considering the question. I laugh and continue chopping tomatoes. “I know, right? She’s something else.”

Bandit lets out a small bark, and I nod. “Exactly. And she’s not afraid to challenge me. She pushes back, and I kinda love that about her. And did you see her smile when she was playing with you? Man, it was like the whole beach lit up. She’s got a smile that makes you want to do anything just to see it again.”

Bandit wags his tail harder. “You like her too, don’t you? I could tell. You’re usually a good judge of character. Remember that time you growled at that guy who turned out to be a total jerk, refusing to pay his bill at the end of the charter? But with Blake, you were all over her from the start.”

Bandit barks again, and I grin. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy.”

I set the table for two, pouring us each a glass of red wine, then drain the pasta and serve it with a simple puttanesca sauce. The water stops, and moments later, Blake emerges, fresh-faced and stunning.

The sweatpants and T-shirt are too big, but she looks perfect. She’s carrying her dirty clothes under one arm, including her bra and panties. Which means underneath my clothes, she’s wearing absolutely nothing.Holy shit.

“Let me get you a bag for your dirty stuff. Do you want me to wash it for you?”

“That’s fine,” she replies, accepting the neatly knotted plastic shopping bag I retrieve from under the sink. “Thanks, though.”

“You look more comfortable, at least.” I hand her a glass of wine once she finishes stuffing her clothes in the plastic bag, swallowing and trying not to stare at her chest or think about the fact she’s not wearing panties.

“I feel a lot better. Thanks again.” She sits down at the table, eyeing the meal I’ve prepared. She takes a tentative bite of the pasta, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Wow, this is amazing. I had no idea you could cook like this.”

A flush of pride. “I’m glad you like it. Cooking is one of the ways I unwind after work.”

Blake twirls another forkful of pasta, puts it in her mouth, savoring it. “Well, you’re definitely good at it. This is better than the boxed mac’n’cheese I would have served up for you.”

We continue eating, and there’s a charged energy I’m sure I’m not imagining that makes every glance feel electric.

“So, Mr. Boss Man can cook,” she teases, raising her glass of wine, taking another sip. “What other hidden talents do you have?”

Leaning back in my chair, staring at her mouth. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She laughs, the sound light and musical. “Maybe I would. Enlighten me.”

“Well.” I lean in conspiratorially. “I can juggle.”

Her eyes widen in mock surprise. “Juggle? Really?”

“Yeah, but only if you count barely managing three oranges as juggling,” I admit, grinning.

“Impressive. Anything else?”

I pause, pretending to think deeply. “I’m also pretty good at fixing things around the house. And I can make a really good martini.”

Blake raises an eyebrow. “You’re a man of many talents, Ethan Carter. Who knew?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “I like to keep some things a mystery.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job of it.” Her voice is softer, the playful edge giving way to something more serious. “I didn’t expect this side of you.”

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