Page 16 of Other Side Of Never
My foot caught momentarily as I tripped over the voice from my past.Immediately pushing it away, I carried on.
But I took the doubt it awakened with me.
In the kitchen, I took twice as long as necessary deciding what to order.In the end, I went with my gut.
Grabbing a platter, I had the cook pile it up family style with mashed potatoes, baked chicken, green beans, and garlic bread.At the last minute, I added a side of fries.Throwing it onto a tray along with two plates, extra napkins and serving spoons, I made my way to our table.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, his jaw dropping.
I watched him from the corner of my eye as I set it down.
Sliding into the booth facing him, I set the napkins between us and picked up his plate.I lifted the serving spoon and piled his plate high, afraid to look at him and find confirmation of just how far over the line I was leaping.
Sliding it in front of him, I hazarded a glance.
And I was trapped.
Hazel eyes, serious and intense, delved into mine.
Heat climbed like a clinging vine up my neck, every scrap of self-preservation I had left urging me to flee.
Frozen in place, half out of my seat, I stared back.
He dipped his dark head toward the food without breaking eye contact and ordered, “Fix your plate, Bridget.”
His low voice slid down my spine like a lover’s tongue.
My eyes nearly fluttered shut.
I shook myself free of the hold he had on me and picked up my plate, studiously ignoring the tremor in my hand and hoping he was doing the same as I served myself and set my plate down.
You’re so aggressive, so abrasive.
Was I too much?Too bossy?Too abrupt?
Probably.
But was it a bad thing?
A small voice inside me answered that question as well.
Probably.
I picked up my fork and scooped up buttery mashed potato goodness.
There was nothing I could do now but see it through.
Kian’s voice interrupted my mental flogging.“It’s kind of nice to not have to make all the decisions.”
My head snapped up, my wary eyes meeting his.
He continued, nodding.“Growing up, it was always Mom who decided what we were having for dinner.As a bachelor, things went downhill fast.Unless I went home, it was usually fast food or instant noodles.My wife was an excellent cook.”He tilted his head to the side.“It wasn’t until I was faced with all the food planning and cooking that I realized how much I’d taken that for granted.”
“So, you do cook?”
His mouth quirked.“I’m a terrible cook.And believe me, I’ve tried.Susie’s menu is much healthier than anything I’d put together on a weekly basis.But yes, I do cook.”
Lost in thought, he looked down at the table.“I come to Susie’s for more than that, though.Isaiah is accustomed to my brothers, my sisters, his cousins, and my parents clamouring around.It’s a tough adjustment for a kid to make.”
