Page 212 of Torrid Passion
“It’s the same for me. It just seemed to stretch forever,” she says.
“I hear you. If you remember, I was pretty forthcoming about how much I loved living with you when Falcon Crest dropped you back at the guesthouse. I thought I was going to be in New York for six days. The extra four screwed up my plans.”
“What plans?” she asks.
“Later. For now, I want to hear all about my kick ass scriptwriter girlfriend’s meeting with UTV.com.”
“What’s there to say? They thought I was brilliant!”
“Of course,” I chuckle. “One thing is for sure, you dressed the part.”
“I must’ve changed five times.”
“As usual, you nailed it.”
Kyla is wearing a feminine designer yellow blouse and a slim-fitted black skirt that hits her under the knees. Her matching yellow heels and handbag complete the look. Her stylish pulled-back hair means business.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Come on. Let’s go,” I take her hand and lead her out to the deck.
“Loki,” she says when we step outside. “What’s all this?”
“Since we’re no longer on Balboa Island, I thought I’d bring Balboa Island to Manhattan Beach. I’m not going to pretend to be at Mrs. Simmons’ level, but she was kind enough to coach me so I could prepare one of your favorite meals.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The first time she prepared the beer cheese fondue and roasted veggies, I was afraid you wouldn’t leave me any and I would be forced to prepare some mac and cheese to avoid starving,” I chuckle.
She swats my arm. “Are you saying I stuffed my face?”
“Pretty much,” I laugh. “It was the same scenario every time she served up that dish. I figured I’d learn how to make it.”
Her brown eyes light up. “Did you really?”
“Yeah,” I smile.
“I love how you notice the little things.”
“When it comes to you, I notice everything,” I set her straight. “I was told you’re on a cheesecake binge these days, so I dropped by Harriet’s Cheesecakes and picked up their crème brûlée cheesecake for dessert.”
“I can’t believe my cousins sold me out again.”
“They’re my secret spies,” I wink. “Sit. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Kyla didn’t hold back. She devoured the meal with gusto.
Pride pumps my chest after her enthusiastic response.
After finishing a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and polishing off two slices of cheesecake, we’re still on the deck enjoying a delightful night.
“Dare I say your beer cheese fondue is as good as Mrs. Simmons’… if not better,” Kyla says, wrapping the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders.
“Are you getting cold? Do you want to go back inside?”
“No, I’m okay. I want to stay out here a little longer. It’s a beautiful night and I get to be with you. It’s almost as if we were still on Balboa Island.”
