Page 43 of Comforting the Grump

“Before you do that, Chef Ennio has a dinner to prepare,” I reminded him. On the drive back, he’d insisted on cooking us dinner rather than ordering in as I had suggested.

Ennio scoffed playfully, nudging me with an elbow as he passed by, heading toward the kitchen. “You’ll thank me when you’ve got a plate full of fresh food in front of you…including vegetables.”

I feigned a puzzled look. “Vegetables? What are those?”

“Exactly my point.”

I watched him go, the sway of his hips almost hypnotic after a day spent shoulder-to-shoulder on the cramped boat deck, scanning the waves for the elusive orcas. Something warm unfurled within my chest—an emotion that felt too much like tenderness. I shook it off, the gruff edges of my nature bristling at the sentimentality.

He stepped into my kitchen, and I followed him, leaning against the doorway, arms folded across my chest as I observed him rummaging through my cabinets with a familiarity that alarmed and comforted me. “Despite my joking, I appreciate this, you know? You taking care of dinner.”

The words were awkward on my tongue, like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. But they were true. And damn if I didn’t feel a surge of gratitude.

“Of course,” he replied without looking back, his tone light. “It’s no big deal, Marnin. Besides, who else is gonna make sure you eat something other than takeout?”

“Ha-ha,” I shot back. Sarcasm, my trusty shield. Yet, as I watched him move about my kitchen with ease, the tension began to ebb from my shoulders. There was something undeniably soothing about the clink of pots and pans, the rhythmic chop of knife against cutting board. Ennio hummed some indistinct tune, and I found myself swaying slightly, a reluctant leaf caught in the gentle current of his energy.

“Go sit down. Relax.” He caught my eye with a pointed look. “I’ve got this.”

“Fine, fine.”

I flopped onto the couch, the cushions accepting me like an old friend. From here, I had a clear view into the kitchen—the golden glow of the overhead lights casting a halo around Ennio’sfigure. His movements were deft, assured, and every so often, he’d glance over, a smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, Marnin?” he called out.

“Yeah?”

“Open a bottle of wine, will you?”

“Your wish is my command, your highness,” I said, pushing myself up with a groan. But inside, I was smiling. There was no denying the simple pleasure of this moment—just me, Ennio, and the quiet intimacy of a shared meal. It was a kind of contentment that, until now, I hadn’t realized I craved.

Thirty minutes later, we sat at my small dinner table to enjoy the simple pasta with fresh pesto Ennio had made. The rich aroma of garlic and herbs hung in the air, and the wine I’d opened at his behest was a perfect companion to the meal—smooth, with just a hint of oak that lingered on the tongue.

“I’m assuming you want to hit a club tonight?” I asked after wolfing down half my plate. “I’d be happy to come with you and keep an eye on things.”

He looked up from his plate, his eyes holding mine—a clear blue that reminded me of the sky just before dusk. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m beat. Today’s adventure took it out of me.”

I shouldn’t be happy he wanted to stay home. His goal was to find a partner, and I should assist him. “We could try The Neon Flamingo, a newer club with a great DJ and a fun atmosphere.”

“Maybe next time,” he said, setting down his fork and leaning back. “I’m really enjoying this—being here. With you.” His gaze was earnest, almost vulnerable, and it struck something deep within me.

Uh-oh. Alarm bells were going off, red and loud and flashing. “I’m not sure?—

“Relax. I’m not trying to trick you into anything more than sex. But it’s okay to like your company, no?”

I blew out a breath. He knew me well. Maybe too well, which was a bit of an unsettling thought. “Of course. I mean, I can’t help but question your sanity for wanting to hang out with me, but yeah. I just wanted to…” I vaguely gestured.

“Manage expectations. I understand. We’re on the same page, I promise.”

Relief filled me. “Okay.”

After dinner, I cleared the last dishes and put everything in the dishwasher. I’d told Ennio to go sit. Auden’s mom had taught me that people who cook don’t do the dishes, and I stuck to that rule.

Besides, it gave me a little time to think. Ennio’s words had left a confusing warmth in their wake, and I found myself at a loss, unmoored in the sea of emotions his simple preference to stay in had stirred within me. What were we supposed to do? Hanging out felt somehow too…close. Too intimate. I needed to do something with him.

“Hey, how about we watch a movie?” I suggested when I finished the dishes and headed into the living room, where Ennio had installed himself on my couch, clutching his second glass of wine.

“Ooh, yes! Have you seenRed, White & Royal Blueyet?”

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