AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Before she can knock on the door, I wipe my palms down my jeans and steady myself with a quick breath. She rings the bell, and I spring into action, not wanting her to wait out there too long. "Hey," I greet as I open the door.
"Hey," she smiles back.
Her eyes take in the place. She's not shy about it. Her hip cocks out and an eyebrow raises. "What?" I question, feeling like this is some test I should be passing.
"It's just so clean and nice looking for someone who got in trouble lighting off fireworks. I thought it would look like a frat house."
I rock back on my heels. "That's fair, but believe it or not, I actually own this house. So, I try to keep it up as nicely as I can. Except ya know, on Fourth of July."
"You own? How's that feel to be God's favorite?" She pulls her purse tighter around her shoulder.
The chuckle works its way out of my mouth. "I'm not anyone's favorite, except for my dad. He helped me, because he wanted me to have something of my own. It was a huge dream of his that I have something that is mine. He gave me some money to help with the down payment, and we gutted this place. It was the fixer upper of all fixer upper's. It took us eight months to get this place the way it looks. But he's right. I'm extremely proud of it, and I about shit my pants when we got stupid and lit fireworks a bit too close."
She grins up at me. "Well at least you learned a lesson."
"Oh, I learned one," I chuckle. "You interested to see what I've made for you?"
"Dying to know."
"You might be surprised, Kara. You never know," I smirk.
"I might be. But I'm the one who's gonna make that decision. So, show me what ya got."
CHAPTER SIX
Kara
I'm slightly nervous as I follow him into his kitchen. I am entirely unprepared to see what I do. His kitchen is my dream. Stainless steel appliances, cabinets painted a dark gray that almost pulls blue in the darkness coming through the back windows. White marble countertops are spotless and inviting. Contemporary lighting provides enough where it's needed, and softens where it isn't. "You have a pot filler," I gasp with jealousy.
He laughs. "I do. When Dad and I were designing this place, he said I'd appreciate it if I were ever going to make dinner often. Since I do, I use it all the time."
"You make dinner a lot?" I'm learning many things about him tonight.
"When I decided to buy this place and gut it, I didn't have a ton of money. Still repaying college loans too," he shrugs. "So, while I do go out with my friends to the bar, I don't spend a ton as I'm paying down stuff. Dad helped me more than he should've, but he wasn't able to take care of everything. The amount of free labor and construction work he gave me for this place was well into the hundreds of thousands. My friends helped too, which is why they hang out here all the time when we aren't working or at Monroe's."
The scent of whatever we're going to eat permeates the room. "What else are you going to surprise me with tonight?" I tilt my head to the side.
"Hopefully everything you never imagined I would be."
Our eyes meet, and I get lost in the green depths of his. I've seen them in many different situations and they tend to change colors depending on what's happening. It runs the gamut from very light to dark, like the luscious floor of the rainforest. "I don't really know you at all do I?" My voice is quiet as I observe him. "Does anyone really know you?"
He scratches the back of his neck, ducking his head down. "There are very few people who do, and I prefer it that way."
"Why? You always seem so open with everyone." I'm beginning to realize many of us have secrets.
"It's complicated."
I walk over to him, and grab his hand in mine. "We're all complicated, but can I put it out there I would love to get to know your complications?" I'm never this forward, but there's something about him standing in this amazing kitchen, telling me little snippets that make him the person he is. I'm taking them all and putting them in my pocket; pieces to the puzzle that make up this man.
He runs a palm over his stubble. "You're probably just about the only person I'd let do that."
The responsibility is enormous, and I'm willing to take it all. To figure out what makes this man tick, and why he feels as if he can't be himself around people. "I appreciate that, but right now, I'd love to know what you made me for dinner?" I raise an eyebrow in question.
Right as I say the words, the timer goes off. He walks over to the counter, grabs an oven mitt, sticking it on his hand. "Hope you like chicken. I used my own marinade recipe on it. And we've got some roasted vegetables to go along with it. Picked up some fresh-baked bread at the bakery and made some garlic toast with it too. I'm hungry after a long day at work."
My eyes roam his body, taking in the way his t-shirt hugs his pecs and ab muscles, and the almost deliberately loose fit of his jeans. He's lean, strong, and I ache to drag my fingernails along his flawless skin.
"Like what you see?" A grin spreads across his face.
