Page 34 of Broken Boundaries

I shake my head. I should’ve probably at least had a snack to soak up all the alcohol in my system, but I haven’t gotten around to it. “No, not yet.”

“Well, I made dinner and realized I made way too much. Would you like some?”

That’s so nice of him to think of me. “Oh, sure. That sounds great.”

“Do you want to come to the house? Or I can bring you some. Whatever is best for you?”

“I’ll come over. Save you a trip. Let me get some shoes on.”

I quickly slip my sandals on and meet him back at the door. We walk slowly over to his house. The summer sun hasn’t quite set completely yet tonight, and it’s giving a beautiful glow across the mountains.

“It’s so nice here,” I say quietly. “So peaceful.”

“It’s one of the things I love most about this place.”

I never imagined myself in a small town. I always thought I was made for city life, which is why I moved to Atlanta as soon as I could. But now that I’m here, I think I could really get used to this.

I follow Brooks into his house, and it smells absolutely amazing. He walks into the kitchen, where I see there’s a giant pan of lasagna, a big bowl of salad, and a pan of garlic bread sitting out on the counter.

“Wow. That’s a lot of food.”

“I told you, I made too much,” he says, grabbing two plates from the cabinet.

“Did you accidentally make too much, or did you make this knowing you were going to ask me over?”

He freezes and looks at me from over his shoulder. “Would you be mad if I said I knew I was going to ask you over?”

I laugh, and he instantly relaxes. “No, but I hope you know you don’t have to feed me.”

“I know that, but I want to make sure you’re ok and that you’re comfortable here.”

“Because you don’t want to lose the best assistant you’ve ever had?” I tease.

He chuckles as he picks up the spatula and cuts into the cheesy lasagna. “Exactly.”

He fills a plate up before he hands it to me, then does the same for himself and takes a seat next to me.

The lasagna is easily in the top ten best foods I’ve ever eaten. It’s been so long since I’ve had a home-cooked meal. Zach and I weren’t great at cooking, so most of the food we ate at home was frozen.

“This is so good,” I say with a moan. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t take you as a chef.”

He chuckles, and I realize how close we’re sitting as his knee gently grazes the side of my leg.

“I don’t know if I would call myself a chef, but I’ve been on my own long enough to have figured some stuff out.”

“Like making killer lasagna?”

He smiles and glances over at me. It must be the wine in my system because the look in his dark eyes makes my stomach flip. Yeah, has to be the wine.

I look away quickly. “Why are you on your own if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just haven’t met the right person, I guess. I’ve always been so busy with the ranch that dating was on the back burner.”

I take another bite. “You don’t think when you’re old and gray you won’t want to have a partner to sit out here and watch the sunset with you?”

“I’m already old,” he says with a laugh.

I playfully shove his very muscular shoulder, and he laughs. “You are not old.”