“Me too.”
When he faces me, he’s frowning. “Els, you know I think you’re gorgeous…right?”
I scoff a laugh.
“No. Seriously. Forget what you overheard for a second, okay? Think about us from the start.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to sound like an arrogant prick when I say this, but I have options, Els. I don’t struggle attracting women, and I’m not a wallflower scared of my own shadow.”
“If this is supposed to be helping…”
“I approachedyou. I askedyouout for a drink. It took me three attempts before you agreed. For anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered. You’re the only woman I’m interested in here.”
“But then why…?”
“This experience is all new for me. I’m coming to grips with feelings…and futures…and what life might be like if I let someone else in. I joke about my parents, but they weren’t role models for building a healthy relationship. You probably won’t understand.”
“I do.”
“And I never realized how much that push and pull they taught me can hurt someone until I saw you cry. I…” He swallows down the emotion that’s making his chin wobble ever so slightly. “I truly never meant to hurt you.”
Luke doesn’t expect my forgiveness. He leaves the confession hanging in the air and focuses on the ingredients he’s spreading over the countertop. Then, he flicks open cabinets until he finds a skillet.
“Ah ha!” He waggles his eyebrows.
I blink.
How does he act so nonchalantly after what he just shared? I fist my skirt with restless fingers. I never thought Luke requested the arrangement out of fear. I assumed he wanted to keep his options open.
I pull out a chair and sit at the tiny dining table tucked in the corner, watching him work from a safer distance. “What dish do you think is good enough to bribe an apology out of me?”
“Look, I’ll be completely honest and admit I can’t remember if you told me your favorite dish. So, when all else fails, you get Nonna’s linguine.”
“You have a Nonna?”
“Had. She passed away a few years ago.”
“Oh, Luke. I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“Don’t be sorry. She made it to eighty-five and admonished me for not giving her as many great grandbabies as my sister until her very last breath.”
“AtrueNonna then?”
“The truest. She was a delight.”
Our chatter turns less personal as Luke falls into an effortless rhythm around my kitchen. Half an hour skips by with stories about the restaurant and the clinic until he lays a perfectly presented plate in front of me on the dining table. He eagerly waits for me to take my first bite.
“Well?” He’s practically leaning over the table as the fork heads for my mouth.
The flavors melt in waves of garlic, tomatoes, and the beautiful silky pasta he made from scratch. The moan of pure contentment is, thankfully, only in my mind.
“It’s edible,” I say.
It’s just about the most amazing pasta I’ve ever put in my mouth. Better than the high-end restaurants I used to eat at. But I’ll never admit it to him.
“High praise.” Luke grins. “So, what do you have planned this weekend?”
