Page 7 of Second Chances
The thought of seeing him sent a shiver of desire and anticipation through her. Even though she was still mad and was still determined to punish him, she couldn’t help but admit that she missed his overbearing presence.
Packing up her things, she called an Uber to take her back to his penthouse.
~Hey, Caroline wants me to come to brunch. So, it looks like I will be joining. Hope that’s ok!
- Of course! See you on Friday, if not before!
Determined to make the last third of her day just as productive as the rest, she got in the car and emotionally steeled herself for battle.
Chapter Three
Boy,he had pulled out all the stops.
It was the first thing that came to mind as Beth stopped short just inside the door to slide her key back into her bag. There was a giant vase of red roses on the entry table in front of which sat a large glass of white wine. She set down her bag by the door and walked over to the table. In front of the glass was a small note:Drink Me.
Funny,she thought as she took a sip of what turned out to be a Riesling,asshe did kind of feel like Alice stepping through the looking glass into Wonderland.
Beyond the table, she could see into the dining room where the table was set, but no sign of Darcy. The smell emanating from the kitchen was incredible and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that a sandwich from Starbucks probably wasn’t sufficient for lunch. Out of habit, she took another sip of wine since she was still holding the glass; she realized on swallowing that she really should wait until she had more food in her if she was going to take control of the situation tonight.
Hearing some commotion, she ditched her heels and quietly crept towards the source of the noise: the kitchen. Peering into the room, her breath caught at what was in front of her; Darcy was standing at the stove, shirtless and in her favorite pair of his sweatpants, with an apron on. She would have laughed at the ensemble if she hadn’t found it so sexy.
It must be the wine - it’s hitting me already.
She watched him while he finished preparing what looked like a sauce for their meal, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in.He was cooking for her.He could have just ordered food or hired someone to come in and cook for them, but here he was, shirtless and slaving over the stove. She smiled at the effort he was putting into the night.
Hopefully, he puts that much effort into our much-needed conversation.
He began to whisk some flour into the pan when some of the sauce splashed up onto his hand.
‘Fuck,’she heard him mutter as he set the whisk down and moved toward the sink to rinse his hand. His movement brought her into his view and he stopped and stared at her for a moment, seeming surprised to see her.
“Hi,” she said quietly, taking another sip of her wine.
Shit!She wasn’t supposed to drink anymore without food.
“Hey,” he replied, still awkwardly staring at her. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” His gaze broke with that comment as he moved to wash his hand.
“Sorry, I got a lot accomplished today so I figured I should head out on time. I didn’t know what time dinner was and I didn’t want to be late.” He didn’t sound mad, yet she still felt like she needed to justify why she was back.
“Shit. I’m sorry - it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head at himself, realizing how he had sounded. “I just was hoping to have it finished and ready before you got here. My meal preparation is a little unglamorous.” He explanation was hesitant, still unused to having to explain himself. It was a little thing, but she gave him credit for his attempt.
“Dinner will be ready in five. I made chicken and mushroom marsala,” he continued as he pulled a dish out of the oven and began to pour the sauce over whatever was in it, “I hope that’s ok.” He looked up at her with genuine concern as if it just occurred to him what would happen if she didn’t like that meal.
“Yes,” she said with a small, reassuring laugh, “I love mushroom marsala.”
“Good,” He visibly relaxed and then continued, “if you want to change and relax, I’ll just finish up here.”
He was clearly uncomfortable with her watching him cook and trying very hard to shoo her from the kitchen. As much as she was enjoying herself, she had bigger things to unnerve him about.
She smiled and said, “Ok.”
Taking one last look at the gorgeous, proud man, who would have thought that having an audience while cooking would make him feel so vulnerable? She almost took another sip of her wine but realized what she was doing just as the glass touched her lips; she set it on the kitchen counter before turning and leaving the room.
She did actually want to change, but into what was the question.
She only had her work clothes and the clothes from the party; she hadn’t really needed anything else over the weekend but now, she knew showing up naked to dinner, while it might further Darcy’s plans for the evening, would not help hers.
Walking into the bedroom, she opened up the closet, figuring she would have to find something of his to wear.
