My eyebrow lifts. “You cook?”
I’ve never seen him in the kitchen before. We’ve had meals together, but it’s usually been at the Halsteads’ ranch house where Julie insists on doing all the cooking, or at the diner with friends.
He scoffs as he moves his hand from my knee and stands. A flicker of disappointment blooms in my chest at the absence of the comforting weight of his touch.
Heath heads to the fridge and opens it, peering inside. “Ma taught Walker and me when we were kids. Said she wasn’t raising men who couldn’t pull their weight around the house. Funny enough, Pops isn’t allowed to help out beyond barbequing. She doesn’t trust him with anything else since he tends to go rogue with the spices.”
He takes out a carton of eggs, a block of cheese, and a bag of bacon bits and sets them on the counter. I’m surprised he managed to find enough in my fridge to make anything since it’s usually empty.
“Grams makes a mean bowl of spaghetti, and I can manage toast without burning it most days, but that’s where my culinary skills end,” I admit with a small shrug. “We survived on frozen dinners and takeout when she lived here.”
“And now?”
“I’ve upgraded to slightly healthier frozen meals.” I leave out the part where I’ve been stretching every dollar lately, and takeout is one of the first things I cut.
Heath rifles through the cabinets until he finds a pan and sets it on the stovetop. “Well, now that I’m here, I’m happy to take over the cooking if that’s all right with you.”
“That would be great, but, um… how would that work?” I trace a small circle over a worn scratch on the tabletop. “Do you prefer to grocery shop or do you want to make me a list? I can cover the groceries since you’ll be doing all the cooking.”
Heath doesn’t strike me as the type who cuts corners on groceries, no doubt prioritizing quality over saving a few dollars, which is nice if you can afford that option. But for me, it’ll mean learning how to coupon or finding a side hustle to foot the bill.
He leaves the stove and sits beside me. “I’m paying for the groceries. Hell, I’m covering all the bills while I’m here.” I start to protest, but he raises a finger. “I know you can pull your weight, but this is the least I can do. The ranch is profitable, and whether you like it or not, half of it’s yours.” He nods at the ring on my left ring finger.
I let out a shaky breath. “I can’t ask you to do that, Heath. It’s too much.”
He takes my hand, his gaze holding mine. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
The overdue notices buried in the back of my catch-all drawer flash through my mind, and I consider how much easier it would be to pay them off if he handled the bills moving forward. But as much as I want to accept his help, I don’t want him to think I’m using him.
What I haven’t told him is that I made a list of all my expenses, separating personal ones like rent and utilities, and plan to ask him to pay half. It was my way of proving I’m doing my part and that I want this partnership to be fair. I even practiced how I’d bring it up and have been stewing over the right way to broach the subject. I’ve been in survival mode for so long I’ve forgotten how to accept help, let alone ask for it.
No matter how accommodating Heath’s been since I told him about the baby, I didn’t expect it to last. I’ve been waiting for him to slip back into his cold, distant demeanor. However, I’mbeginning to think I’m seeing a new side of him that I haven’t gotten the chance to meet until now. A side that’s making it harder by the hour to convince myself this can remain strictly practical and free of any personal attachment.
“Let me do this,” Heath pleads when I don’t answer right away. “Just think of all the red velvet lattes you could buy if you didn’t have to worry about the bills.”
“Careful,” I whisper, leaning closer. “Now you’re just talking dirty.”
He grips the sides of my chair and drags it closer to his until our knees are touching.
“Is it working?” he murmurs.
A sly grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Maybe.”
He’s so close I can feel his breath brush against my cheek. “What’s it going to take for you to let me take care of your bills… and you?”
“A lifetime supply of red velvet lattes and farmhouse complete with a wraparound porch and a view of the mountains,” I tease.
“Done,” he agrees instantly.
I laugh it off as a joke, but the look in his eye makes me wonder otherwise.
“I’ll accept your offer, but don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re wasting your money,” I warn.
Heath trails a finger along my jaw, sending a shiver rippling down my spine. “Taking care of you isn’t a waste of money, Charlie. It’s a privilege.”
I’m starting to think I’ve entered the twilight zone, where Heath has gone from adversary to doting husband overnight. Unfortunately, I’m just a girl, and his swoony gestures are clouding my judgment. If I’m not careful, he’ll break down every wall I’ve built to protect my heart—and I can’t afford to let that happen. Not when we have a baby on the way, and my priorityhas to be creating a stable future for us that doesn’t include falling for my baby daddy.
I shift back, creating some much-needed space. Heath seems to notice and returns to the stove. I ignore the pang of disappointment at losing his touch. It’s just my hormones acting up. With time, it’ll be easier to be around him without my body betraying me… at least I hope so.
