Page 92 of Crossroads of Love

Does Hank know that I know, and that’s really why he came to the house? Was he trying to come inside to threaten me and Jayla? Or worse?

“I’ll get Mike to look into stuff, too. I’m really proud of you, by the way. You’re handling everything so well, but you’re also being self-aware and reasonable, which is huge. Before, you shut down and crawled into yourself.”

I nod, lost in my thoughts again.

Who knew I would be having a breakthrough at work today?

I’m still numb from the flood of information, but at least I’m starting to figure out solutions.

A few hours later, I call Gavin.

“Hey, Jay is staying the night at a friend’s house tonight since she’s no longer grounded. Do you want to come over for dinner?” I ask Gavin over the phone.

“I would love that. What time?”

“Eight?”

“Perfect, I’ll bring the wine.”

“Wine? Are you trying to seduce me, sir?”

“Is that all it takes?” he teases.

“I guess you’ll find out. You might want to bring more than one bottle, though. It’s been a long day.”

“I got you.” He laughs. “Is wine strong enough? Maybe I need to grab some whiskey.”

“Might need to just buy the entire liquor store after the last week.” I giggle.

“Are you a little stressed?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

My knees go weak with the innuendo, but I can’t stop smiling at the thought of getting to spend an adult night alone with him.

When everything is spinning out, he’s all I can think about. I really just want to fall right into his arms tonight.

The kitchen smells of garlic, basil, and something simmering that’s starting to make my stomach growl. I smile to myself as I stir the pan, watching the sauce bubble gently. Gavin will be here any minute, and I want everything to be perfect. He loves pasta, and tonight, I’ve gone all out with handmade fettuccine, a rich white sauce with roasted tomatoes and garlic, and some perfectly seared chicken to top it all off. There’s also a fresh Caprese salad chilling in the fridge, the mozzarella soft and milky, with bright red slices of tomato drizzled in balsamic glaze. My secret weapon, though, the one thing I know he won’t be able to resist, is the garlic bread. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, slathered with butter and garlic, and just a sprinkle of parsley.

I slide the bread into the oven and take a deep breath. Cooking is sometimes my way of decompressing and showing love, although I haven’t been able to do it a lot lately. Haven’t felt like it anyway. But tonight, it feels like more. An energy hums through me, and anticipation sparks in my veins because I know what’s coming. Gavin and I have not gotten alone time for weeks now, and I’m ready for whatever happens next. I just hope he is, too.

I glance at my reflection in the oven door's glass, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. My dress is simple, soft, and flowy. It hits just above the knee, and the neckline shows just enough to keep things interesting.

I look good.I look happy.

The doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat.

“Perfect timing,” I mutter, wiping my hands on a towel as I hurry to the door.

When I open it, Gavin is leaning casually against the porch railing, two bottles of wine in one hand and that easy, crooked smile on his lips that always makes me weak in the knees. His dark hair is slightly tousled like he’s just run his fingers through it, and his blue eyes shine with amusement as he looks me up and down.

“Well, don’t you look nice,” he says, stepping inside and handing me the bottles. “Did you get all dressed up for me?”

“Maybe,” I tease, raising an eyebrow as I take the wine from him. “Or maybe I’m just hungry and didn’t want to eat alone.”

He laughs, a deep, warm sound that makes me grin wider. “You’re a terrible liar, Lena.”

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