Page 106 of Faking It with the Firefighter

I reached for her hand, catching her palm in mine. The touch blazed through me, innocent and intimate and thrilling at once. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”

She hadn’t torn her hand away, and her gaze met mine. “Well, you’re not the only one. Winston’s missed you too.” She chewed her lip.

“Oh, he has?” I grinned. “Poor cat.”

She nodded. “He keeps wandering from room to room, sniffing around and saying,Rex’s shoes. I need to poop in Rex’s shoes.”

I laughed. “Maybe I should pay him a visit. I’ve got some old sneakers he might like.”

She giggled in a defenseless way. I wasn’t sure she’d completely forgiven me, but I felt hopeful that the walls she’d built to keep me out were beginning to crumble. She held my gaze for what felt like an eternity, then said, “How about dinner tomorrow night? My place.”

Dinner? With Abigail? Tomorrow? It was like a dream come true.

“I’ll be there.”

FORTY

ABIGAIL

Smoke billowedout of my oven, and the charred remains of the first lasagna I’d ever attempted appeared inedible. I groaned, grabbed the dish, and marched it to the kitchen trash.

I glanced up at the clock on the microwave. Rex would be here any minute, and I didn’t have dinner for us. I’d felt so good last night when I came home that I ate the rest of my Chinese takeout.

The only thing left in the fridge was a bottle of chilled Chardonnay and half a block of cheddar cheese. And just the grocery store brand, not even the fancy stuff. I never should’ve invited him over for a meal. What made me think I could cook a nice meal for him?

It’s just…he’d done the billboard and the Chinese food and then I’d seen him, looking dark-haired and muscly and so beautiful, and I hadn’t been able to think clearly.

No one had ever done something like that for me. Even the standing takeout order with Lotus Flower—that seemed to be asource of ridicule when anyone found out about it—Typical Abigail, living like she’s in college.

But Rex never responded that way. He’d gone out of his way to pay for my order for an entire year. That meant something, and not because of the money. It was the gesture that told me that he accepted me, even if I worked too much to cook and couldn’t cook even if I had the time. He valued me and my work so much that he bought a damn billboard spot to proclaim my accomplishments.

And paradoxically, all of those accepting gestures had made mewantto take care of him, cook for him, show him I appreciated him.

But as the lasagna slid out of the brand new ceramic dish I’d bought purposefully for this meal and slopped into the black trash bag, I felt like the same ole failure. Again.

I hadn’t even made the sauce from scratch! I’d dumped ground beef in a pan and poured a jar of tomato sauce on top. The noodles had been oven-ready, and I’d tried to make up for my shortcomings by using way too much store-brand cheese.

And now the whole thing was in the garbage.

As tears filled my eyes, the rumble of a pickup truck sounded Rex’s arrival. Despair opened a pit in my stomach.

I’d invited him over for dinner and I had nothing for him. No food. Not even a frozen pizza to throw in the oven. So much for showing my appreciation. He’d probably take one look at me, sweaty from my failed attempt at Italian, tomato sauce on my shirt, and decide that I was too much trouble.

Wasn’t that how it always went? Too difficult, too impulsive. Not enough.

I looked in the trash, ready to cry. And I saw thetakeout containers from last night. Takeout that Rex had arranged, because he accepted me. Because he loved me.

I exhaled.

The doorbell rang. It struck fear in my gut, but it was too late to do anything about it now. I sucked in a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and did what I always did: faced the challenge head-on.

FORTY-ONE

REX

My heart was poundingas I rang her doorbell standing in the glow of Abigail’s porch light. The paper grocery bag in my hand crinkled, and the autumn-colored bouquet in the other let off a sweet perfume.

It had been a long day. I’d been distracted, thinking of her. Thinking of this moment right here, when I finally got to see her again.

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