Page 75 of A Dark Fall

I watch as he takes an oven dish from the oven and plates it up. I’m utterly in awe of how relaxed and not at all stressed he looks. If I were cooking for him at home, I’d be sweating and panicked and worried about poisoning him. But I’m not the greatest cook.

Suddenly, I don’t care about any of that though. Suddenly, I want to slave over a hot stove for him. Suddenly, I want to be some 1950s housewife who does his washing and has his dinner ready and waiting for him when he comes home.

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? As he puts the plate down in front of me, my stomach growls at the sight of his creation.

“It’s Parmesan and red pesto chicken with steamed potatoes and asparagus,” he announces unceremoniously. “Hope you like it.”

It looks and smells divine, and I pick up my knife and fork, cutting into it immediately. On the first mouthful, I know he can cook. It’s heavenly—succulent, juicy, and cooked to perfection. I give him a wide-eyed stare.

“Jake, this is amazing,” I say with my mouth half-full.

He smiles and nods, looking pleased, before picking up his cutlery to tuck into his own. “They serve it at Leo’s place. He gave me the recipe.”

We eat in comfortable silence, mainly because I’m starving and want to eat this delicious plate of food rather than talk. I can tell he’s watching me though, and as I look up I momentarily worry I look more like a caveman. Frankly, I’m too hungry to care.

“So, are you still okay for Robyn’s dinner on Friday? I’m not promising the food will be as good as this, but she normally does something edible.”

He nods, chews his food, then swallows. “If you still want me to come, I’ll come.”

“I do. I want you to come. I’d like you to meet her.”

He nods again. “So, Robyn was with you at the club that night?” he asks before putting another forkful in his mouth.

“Yes. She was the tall, gorgeous blonde.”

Jake shrugs before his eyes turn heated. “I don’t remember. Was sort of focused on someone else that night.”

My mind drifts back to that night in his office when I laid eyes on him for the second time. How completely certain I was that I’d never see him again, and how completely relieved I am to be wrong.

I stretch my feet out under the table, grazing my bare feet against his slightly. As I look back down at my plate, I see I’m only a few more mouthfuls away from finishing the entire thing. It was delicious.

“Well, that was incredible,” I tell him as I set down my knife and fork atop the plate. “You’ll have to make it again for me sometime.” I wash down my last mouthful with the rich wine, and it’s only then I glance at the bottle. It’s Bordeaux.

So, he bought me French wine.

“I definitely will.” He nods, still chewing.

I can’t believe I finished my entire plate before he did. I push the plate away and sit back in my chair to observe him. Then I remember watching someone eat isn’t polite, so I look around his stunning apartment and try to imagine him living here. Doing normal day-to-day activities such as lounging on the sofa, watching TV, and eating cereal. Not cleaning though, because he has a cleaner for that.

Ben once mentioned getting a cleaner, citing we were both too busy for housework. What I think he was saying was that he wasn’t happy with my domestic skills and I needed help.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Jake says, nudging into my thoughts. He’s finished eating and so sets down his cutlery and picks up his bottle of beer.

“Me too. I like it here.”

“So, you’re impressed then?” He gestures toward my empty plate.

“So impressed. Who knew you could cook? Or that you had a cleaner?”

“I did.”

I laugh and feel him reach out with his feet to touch mine, gentle, soft. “Yes, well, it’s not as if you’re forthcoming with this kind of stuff now, are you?” I keep my tone light.

“If you’d asked me whether I could cook or if I had a cleaner, I’d have told you.”

“Does that mean I can ask you something about yourself right now?” I sit back in my chair and bring my glass to my lips, gazing at him over the rim.

He doesn’t shift in that uncomfortable way he did at dinner as though he wanted to bolt. “Only if I get to ask you something too.”

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