Page 84 of Unexpected Forever
Charley’s back is to me and I lean against the wall, enjoying the scene of her shaking her ass to what I now recognize as “Flowers” coming from her phone.
Her cutoffs leave her shapely legs bare and my hands itching to stroke her skin. The oversized T-shirt slips down one shoulder as she moves them in time to the song, and her ponytail swings as she bobs her head.
Lust unfurls in my belly, making my temperature rise.
She brings the spatula, covered in what looks like chocolate icing, up to her mouth, using it as a microphone, belting out the words to the chorus.
With a spin, she turns my way and screams when she sees me, sending the spatula flying before it lands on the floor with a splat. “Holy shit, Nate!”
I can’t help it. I laugh harder than I’ve laughed in longer than I can remember.
“Nate, it isn’t funny,” she whines.
I hold my stomach, pulling myself together. “Oh babe. Yes, it is. The look on your face.”
“It’s rude to stand there without announcing your presence.”
I continue to chuckle, and her lips quirk, trying not to smile while she cleans up the spatula mess.
“By the way, I don’t mind buying you flowers, and if you come to Florida with me sometime, I’ll write your name in the sand. But I gotta say, talking to yourself sounds like a personal problem.”
“Haha, you’re funny.”
Still smiling, I walk farther into the kitchen, surveying the area. “What are you doing?” I ask, then sniff the air. “Is something burning?”
“Oh shit!”
She dashes to the oven and pulls out a pan.
Dropping it on the island, she waves the smoke away, and looks down at…I don’t know what.
“Damn it! I can’t believe I let it burn.”
I come to stand beside her, examining the project on the pan. “What is it?”
She sighs, her eyes sad. “It was your birthday dinner.”
I look down at her, my lips parting. “You cooked dinner for me?”
“Well, I tried. Megan said you liked Beef Wellington so I tried…” She sighs and shakes her head. “That dish is a real bitch.”
She flings an arm out. “I made an absolute mess of the kitchen and all I got for my efforts is this large piece of charcoal.”
My chest swells at how good she is. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Firefly.”
“What’s that?”
“I do enjoy Beef Wellington, but you could have made me a PB&J and I would have loved it. You know why?”
She shakes her head, her eyes steady on mine.
“Because no one has ever made me a birthday dinner. I usually spend my birthday alone or with my teammates depending on our schedule.”
“Your mom never made you a birthday dinner?”
I shake my head, but the weight in my chest whenever I talk about my parents is lighter than I remember. “Nope. That’s why I don’t care what you would have made me. The fact you thought to do it in the first place is enough for me.”
She holds my gaze. There’s kindness and understanding swirling in them. It’s like a balm to my soul that I’m not sure I deserve.
