Page 17 of Possessive Cowboy

She throws her hands up in exasperation. I take the jaw of turmeric and toss it in the grocery bag on top of the other ingredients.

“So I take it you’re cooking him dinner,” she continues.

“Yep,” I say.

Abby walks to the kitchen island and peeks into the other bag that I’ve packed.

“Wait,” she says. “I get cooking for a man. But why are you bringing Windex? And…Raina there’s toilet bowl cleaner in here! Why the hell are you bringing toilet bowl cleaner on a date? What exactly do you think is going to happen?”

“You should see his place,” I say sadly. “Oh Abby…it’s so sad.”

“He’s a bachelor,” she shrugs. “Single men are gross. What else is new?”

I shake my head.

“I wouldn’t say that his house is gross,” I reply. “Just neglected. And…dark.”

“Dark?” Abby asks. “Like a vampire’s house?”

“Basically,” I say. “He has all of these dark rooms with burned out light bulbs. It’s like ninety percent of his house just sits dormant all the time. And it’s such a shame because it’s a beautiful house…”

I turn back to the cabinet, checking my recipe card one last time and making sure I’ve got everything. Judging by the state of Mav’s house, I doubt he has many things in his own kitchen. I’m even bringing my own salt and pepper, and my best cast iron pan.

When I turn back around, I see Abby still holding the bottle of Windex, a frown on her face.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she says.

I raise a brow. My best friend can’t keep a thing from me, and she knows it. So for her to even attempt to hide her thoughts from me feels like a major red flag.

“Fine,” she sighs. “Not nothing. I’m worried about you. All of this is…”

She gestures to the bags of cooking and cleaning supplies.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “And I don’t want to poop on your parade -”

“Isn’t the expression ‘rain on your parade?’” I wonder.

“-But this feels like going from zero to a hundred overnight,” she says. “First you’re in a funk and need a one night stand. Then you’re ready to date again. Now you’re dating Maverick which youknowI’m highly supportive of. But going over to the man’s house and cooking and cleaning? For the first date?”

“You think it’s desperate?” I ask, biting my lip.

“No,” she says quickly. “I think it’s really, really kind. And I’m worried that he’s not going to appreciate it. I know you like Maverick, and I know that when you like someone you want to do nice things for them. But what if it’s too…too soon?”

I lean against the counter, facing my friend.

“Never thought I’d see the day thatyou’retellingmethat I might be moving too fast with a man,” I say in wonder.

“You know I love you,” she says, putting the blue-colored cleaner back into the grocery bag. “And you’re right, I’m not one to be giving advice out toanyoneabout moving too fast. I’m just protective of you, you know? I don’t want another man stomping all over your heart, taking you for granted. You deserve someone who is going to match your kindness with equal or greater kindness. Maverick seems amazing, but I don’t know him. So I’m…”

“Guarded?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “Guarded on your behalf. But if you feel that this is right for you, I think you need to follow your heart.”

I frown and look down, contemplating my freshly painted toes – the color pink, picked out with Maverick in mind.

Am I trying too hard?

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