Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
And yes, we’ve talked. He calls me every night after work. One night, it was on his way home. One was right before he went to bed, and the others were as he was hitting a drive-thru for dinner. That’s where my idea stems from.
I’m going to make him dinner.
Instead of going home, I turn my car into the grocery store parking lot. I know from our conversations he’ll eat just about anything. I decide to make buffalo chicken pasta and garlic bread. I pick up a few things that I need for home and circle back around to the cereal aisle. He liked the Rice Krispies treats I made for dinner with his family, so I’ll make him some more of those. I don’t know if this counts as fighting, but I’m putting myself out there. I’m going to show up at his place uninvited. I don’t have to stay to eat with him, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t hope he’ll ask me to stay.
Rushing home, I get to work making dinner. It’s not a lengthy process for the pasta, so I start with the Rice Krispies treats first. They, too, don’t take long, but they can be cooling while I start dinner.
An hour later, I have everything packed up. I’ve changed my clothes, and my car is loaded as I make my way toward his house. I don’t know if he’s home yet, but that’s okay. It’s a nice night for the second week of May. I have a blanket in my car for emergencies if it gets too cold, but I think I’ll be just fine reading my Kindle on his front porch until he gets home. I have a hot bartender that needs some of my attention. That is, at least until Merrick gets home.
It’s a few minutes before seven when I pull into his driveway. Grabbing my purse, which holds my phone and Kindle, I climb out of my car and move to the front porch. I settle on the swing and get lost in my book. When I hear tires on the gravel, I look up and see Merrick pulling into the driveway. Turning off my Kindle, I shove it back into my purse, before making my way to my car where I pull open the back door.
“Hey, you. This is a nice surprise,” Merrick says. He’s smiling widely, as if he’s happy to see me.
“I know you’ve been working long hours this week, and you’ve been eating out, so I thought I’d make you dinner.”
“You made me dinner?” There is surprise in his tone.
“I felt sorry for you,” I tease.
“I’ll take it.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “That means you were thinking about me. A man can’t complain about that,” he says, smirking. “Let me take that.”
I hand him the buffalo chicken pasta, grab the container of Rice Krispies treats and the garlic bread, and follow him inside.
“This smells great, Court. Thank you,” he says, placing the dish on the stove. “I stink. Let me shower and we can eat.”
“Oh, I don’t have to stay.”
“Babe, you made me dinner. You’re staying. Besides, I haven’t seen you all week. I’ll be quick.” He disappears down the hall.
I stand in his kitchen with a swarm of butterflies in my belly and a smile on my face because he wants me to stay. Shaking out of my Merrick fog, I preheat the oven and dig around until I find a cookie sheet to place the garlic bread on. Once that’s in the oven, I work on dishing us both a plate of pasta and putting them in the microwave to warm them up.
By the time a shirtless Merrick is back in the kitchen, in a pair of sweatpants and bare feet, I have two places set at the kitchen island.
“Thank you, Court.” He doesn’t waste any time sitting down and digging in. He stands and goes to the fridge. “Beer? I don’t have wine or anything to offer you. I have sweet tea or Dr Pepper.”
“Sweet tea is fine. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” I wrinkle my nose and he laughs. “Really, it can’t taste like alcohol for me to drink it.” His grin widens. “Just another boring facet of Courtney.”
He points at me. “None of that.” He pours me a glass of tea and takes his seat. He scarfs down his pasta and garlic bread and goes back for more. He doesn’t even bother to heat it up. “This is so damn good. What is it?”
“Buffalo chicken pasta. It’s basically buffalo chicken dip with pasta noodles.”
“So good.” He moans as he takes another bite.
I’m not gonna lie. That sound, I feel it between my thighs. My attraction to this man is off the charts. I hear his brother telling me to fight for what I want and wish I had the courage to just put myself out there.