AllFreeNovel
Share Us
MAVEN
The apartment is suspiciouslyquiet when I get home on Wednesday night.
June doesn’t run to the door to greet me like she normally does. All the lights are off. I stand in the foyer, listening for any signs of life, and find none.
“Dallas?” I call out. I kick off my boots by the door and worry rushes through me. “JB?”
“Kitchen,” he answers, and the pressure in my chest releases half a degree.
I walk down the hallway carefully, unsure of what I’m going to find. I nearly jump out of my skin when he comes around the corner and startles me.
“Dammit,” I say. “What the hell is with you and trying to scare me?”
“Sorry.” Dallas grins and drops a kiss to my forehead. “June is at Maverick’s for the night, and I’m making us dinner.”
“Did I miss a memo?” I follow him into the kitchen and slide onto one of the barstools. It smells delicious in here and I inhale, trying to figure out what he’s making. “Was I supposed to be here earlier? Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Nope. He volunteered to keep her at his place tonight so we could be alone. I’ve been busy since Sunday with all the media shit, and I know you’ve been watching her all day, every day, without any of my help. This is my way to thank you.”
“Breaking the NFL record for longest field goal will do that to you. This is sweet, Dallas, but you don’t have to thank me for doing my job. For doing something I want to do,” I say, and he walks around the island to give me a drink.
Dallas wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on the top of my head. I sigh into his chest and my body relaxes under his touch.
“I know I don’t have to thank you,” he says. “But I want to.”
I bury my face in his shirt and smile. The cotton smells like garlic and onions and it’s all so familiar. So easy, like we’ve been doing this for months. “You know I love June, but I’m excited to be alone with you.”
He pulls away and cups my cheeks. A drop of tomato sauce hangs in the corner of his mouth, and I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb. “Me, too.”
“What are you making?”
“Spaghetti. Your favorite.” His grin is crooked and his dimples pop, sharp stars on sharp cheeks. “And some garlic bread, too.”
“Now you’re just spoiling me. Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.
“Nope.” Dallas nods toward the drink in front of me. “Tequila sunrise. I hope it tastes okay.”
I take a sip and it’s citrusy on my tongue. I lick my lips and hum. “Delicious. He’s an NFL record holder, folks, but he’s also a bartender.”
Dallas laughs and moves back to the stove. He lifts the boiling pot of water and dumps it in the colander in the sink. I like watching the ease of his movements. The strain of his bicepsas he does mundane things like grabbing plates from the cabinet and grating parmesan cheese. There’s something settling in his confidence, and I smile when he slides the food my way.
“What?” he asks, and he sits beside me. He twirls the pasta around on his fork with his right hand and rests his left hand on my thigh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re nice to look at.” I moan around a piece of garlic bread. “I think your cooking might be my favorite thing about you.”
“Didn’t think I’d ever be jealous of bread, but I haven’t gotten you to make that sound.”
“The night is young, Lansfield.”
We eat while we talk about their Monday night game next week. We argue over Halloween costumes for twenty minutes before Dallas reluctantly gives in to my idea. He scoots my stool closer to him and I hook my foot around his. When we drop our empty plates in the sink, my stomach is full and my heart is happy.
“You wash and I’ll put them in the dishwasher?” he asks, and his hip nudges mine.
“You got it, boss.”
“Can you make sure you actually rinse all the food off? Not a half-assed job that leaves sauce everywhere?”
“Wow. Three minutes ago you were talking about how wonderful I am, and nowthis?It’s bullshit.” I laugh when he pokes my side, and I grab the faucet to defend myself. “Wash them yourself.”
