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Her throat moved as she swallowed hard, and she nodded again, almost like she couldn’t trust herself to speak.
He smiled, still working to keep from cracking up. “I’ll be quick,” he said and sprinted to his room. The moment he stepped inside, he softly laughed. Her, standing at his door, face beet red, would be a scene he wouldn’t likely forget for a while. The grin on his lips stretched wider and remained while he dressed.
She’d thought of him. Enough that she cooked him dinner and brought it to him. Gorgeous and sweet and now he could add caring to the growing list of things he liked about her. He finished pulling on a T-shirt and paused at his bedroom door to take a breath. “Slow down, dude. She’s being nice. Just… relax.”
Forcing himself to keep his stride unhurried, he walked back into the living room, taking a right with another couple of steps to reach his kitchen.
“Uh, I hope it’s okay. I found plates and got drinks.” Her gaze never lifted from the food she was uncovering.
Jack stopped next to her. “Thank you for this.”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I… just… wanted you to know that I appreciate all that you're doing for us.” She finished the statement and lifted her gaze to his. “There’s no way I could do it on my own.”
For a moment, all he could do was stare at her. Every time he saw her, she was more beautiful than the last. From her freckles that seemed more pronounced after working in the sun to the gold flecks that shimmered in her eyes. And what was that alluring smell? Something soft and flowery but not eye-watering or overpowering.
He should have stopped himself from reaching over and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, but he didn’t. His gaze shouldn’t have lowered to her lips, but it did. Even while telling himself not to step closer, he shuffled even nearer to her.
His hand slid down her jaw as his thumb brushed across her cheek. There wasn’t a time he could recall that he wanted to kiss a woman more than he wanted to kiss Jo. It was like an invisible force placed a hand on his back and pushed him until he could see the lines in her lips.
Jo cleared her throat and stepped back. “You must be starving.” She smiled.
Yeah, he was hungry, but not for food. “I could eat.”
“Go sit, and I’ll bring it to you.”
“I can help.”
“I’ve got it.”
As he took a seat at the table, Jo plated the food.
He’d barely sat down before she was sliding a plate of something cheesy and gooey in front of him. He took a long whiff. “Wow, this smells great.”
She shot him a grin. “It’s a recipe I learned in college. My roommate was Italian, and she invited me home from time to time. I think I gained twenty pounds every time I visited, but they were such lovely people. Her mom made it her mission to teach me how to cook.” She chuckled. “I make it from scratch every now and then.”
Jack swirled his fork in the noodles and took a bite. Thyme, rosemary, basil, and rich tomato flavors burst on his tongue. His tastebuds were never happier for a forkful of spaghetti. He swallowed and said, “Wow. This is fantastic. The pasta and the noodles taste like they were made today.” He forked another bite into his mouth and washed it down with the sweet tea she’d poured for him. “I can see the sauce being fresh, but how did you make boxed pasta taste this good?”
Her gaze lowered to her plate. “They’re not boxed. I made the sauce, and while it cooked… I… I made them this morning.” She glanced up and back down. “I was going to invite you to dinner, but you just looked so exhausted that I couldn’t bring myself to ask you to stay. So, I boxed it up and brought it to you.” Another bashful glance.
He sat in stunned silence for a moment. “This must have taken you hours.” She’d devoted time to him. To him? No one, certainly not a woman, had ever thought of him enough to do that.
“You labor with your hands. It only seemed fitting to say thank you with mine.” She looked up and flashed a smile.
Jack didn’t know how to respond. A surge of emotion lodged in his throat. Instead of commenting further, he filled his belly with the most delicious dish of food he’d ever eaten.
Once they’d finished, Jo took his plate and began washing the dishes. He joined her at the sink and tried to take over. She’d cooked, so it only seemed fair that he did the cleanup.
“No. I’ve got it.” She said, knocking him with her hip. “You worked hard today.”
He gently hip-checked her back. “So did you.”
She scrubbed a dish, shaking her head. “Not nearly as hard as you did. I saw your eyes before you left. I’m surprised you were able to make it into your apartment.”
As he picked up a drying towel, he said, “Thank you for thinking of me. It was delicious, and I appreciate it.”
“Sure.”
Working together, they made dish duty fly by. Looking around his kitchen, it was almost like they hadn’t eaten at all. He might even say it was cleaner than when she started since she wiped down all the counters after washing the last dish.
