Page 71 of Forged in Steele

Jared held out his hand. “Dinner’s ready.”

Nervous about sharing a meal alone, she slipped past him and jogged down the walnut stairs. Another thing she wouldn’t choose in her own house. She would want light floors. White oak, maybe.

She rushed to the kitchen and silenced the beeper. With big mitts on her hands, she opened the oven and removed the basic meal her gran had taught each of the girls to make. A one-pan meal with chicken thighs, carrots, onion, potatoes, and garlic.

The tangy garlic scent snaked from the pan.

Jared came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t know you could cook so well.”

She looked at him. “First, you should taste it before saying that, and second, it’s the only real meal that I can consistently do well.”

“Looks and smells good.” He leaned closer. “Unless of course you’ve changed your perfume to garlic.”

They laughed together, but tension weighed heavy in the air. He seemed to be uneasy too, or maybe she was projecting her feelings onto him.

“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll serve.” She shooed him away before she gave in to the feelings threatening her common sense and kissed him.

“I’ll pour some water.” He searched the cabinets, lifting out two glasses and taking them to the water dispenser in the refrigerator. “I guess it’ll be good that we had a meal here so we know where the dishes are for the visit tomorrow.”

“I could always say you’re the kind of husband who avoids the kitchen.” She spooned the veggies into a bowl and inhaled the savory aromas.

He glanced at her as he filled the second glass. “That would be sexist, though. I could say the same of you.”

“And who cooked dinner?” She carried the bowl to the table and wrinkled her nose at him.

He set down the glasses and took a seat. “You told me to wait until I tasted it.”

She swatted at him, and he snagged her hand to tug her into the chair next to him. She’d barely hit the seat when he leaned over and gave her a quick but passion-filled kiss.

She pulled free and caught her breath. “We shouldn’t.”

He continued to hold her hand, his touch making her want to move closer.

“Someone could be watching the house,” he said. “This will make our cover more believable.”

“Um, Jared.” She extricated her hand and stood. “The window faces the fenced backyard. Pretty sure no one is out there watching.”

“Yeah. I know.” He grinned. “But figured I had to have a legit reason to kiss you or you might get mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She stood to get the platter with the crisply browned chicken thighs. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She joined him at the table, handing him the platter and taking a seat in the same chair. She shifted it away from him and earned a raised eyebrow for her effort.

He took a thigh and dropped it on her plate then served himself. “Would you ever consider starting again? You and me, I mean. Dating?”

“I don’t know.” She emptied a spoonful of veggies on her plate.

“Is it because of my job or because you don’t trust me?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Do you think you can ever trust me not to hurt you again?” He took the veggie bowl from her. “Because I won’t.”

She paused, fork in hand to look him in the eye. “How do you know that for sure?”

He set down the bowl and held her gaze. “The past few days have shown me how much I still care about you. How much I once cared about you. What a terrible mistake it was to leave you.”

“I’ll admit I care about you too, but my trust issues extend way beyond you.” She sat back. “If I can’t trust God who is perfect, how can I ever trust another human with all of their flaws?”

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