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“What are you thinking about with that beautiful smile on your face?” he asks, his happiness clear for me to see.
Returning his smile, I admit, “I’m thinking about your yard. It’s amazing and must have taken a long time to get like this.”
He nods, unable to hide the delight my pleasure in his backyard has brought him. “It took a couple of years, and it’s only been finished for about eighteen-months. It started off as something to do, something to take my mind off everything, and it took on a life of its own. I’m proud of it.”
I smile. “And so you should be. My favorite part is the small orchard you have and the look of the water feature as you peer through…it has a calming effect.”
Taking a long drink of his longneck, he agrees, “It is. Many nights I’ll sit by the water and watch the fish swimming around. It’s relaxing.”
I sit up. “Wait… You have fish?”
Now I get the panty-dropping grin. “Yeah, I have fish.”
About to jump up and go see, he stills me with his hand. “We’ll eat and then we’ll go down there… I have a surprise that you’ll like even more than fish.”
Raising a brow, I comment, “Oh.”
He chuckles. “Not that kind of surprise.”
Now as the light evening breeze caresses over me, I’m more curious than ever, but Jace is staying quiet about the surprise. I doubt I’m going to get any clues from him until he’s ready.
“Here, I think everything is ready,” Jace says as he begins loading our plates with food. I join him at the table.
“This looks really good. I love to eat food cooked on the grill, but if I’m in charge, everything tends to get burnt.”
He grins and finishes chewing a piece of red pepper. “Yeah, I hear you. I still do on occasion. It tends to depend on whether or not I get distracted on a call or doing something else.” He shrugs.
We sit at the table and my stomach grumbling again has me cutting a piece of chicken and tasting. The flavor bursts on my tongue with the creole dressing Jace used to coat the chicken. It’s spicy, but not too much that you can’t taste and enjoy the mixed flavors.
“This is good.” I sample another piece. “Actually, it’s really good.” I grin.
“I never get tired of this sauce. It’s one my mom would make when Ryder and I were kids growing up.”
“It’s homemade?”
“Yeah. Mom’s very protective of her recipe.”
Working my way through the chicken and peppers, I say, “This should be bottled and sold. She’d make a fortune.”
“Mom won’t part with it. My grandma passed it on to her and so on. Think I’m the fifth generation to have the recipe.”
I start on the small baked potato as we settle into a comfortable silence while we enjoy the peace of the evening. Most of all, I’m soaking up being with Jace, knowing that I’m going to be spending the night with him. At least, I hope tonight I am.
The thought of Jace in the thralls of a nightmare while I’m with him scares me because I know that it will kill me to leave him to deal with it himself. I’ve promised him that I’ll lock myself in his bathroom, or mine for that matter, and I will. It’s a promise that I have to keep no matter what because I know if I break it and he hurts me, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.
I don’t want him having to live with hurting me, but I didn’t lie when I said that I trusted him. My only hope is that he eventually trusts himself.
Before I know it, everything on my plate has disappeared, including the lovely glass of rosé that Jace had poured me while he was cooking the food.
Laying my knife and fork across my plate, I look at Jace and meet his gaze. With a soft smile, I tell him, “That was delicious and probably the most I’ve eaten in days.”
He frowns. “Why haven’t you been eating?”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind…and I’ve been missing you.” I reach out, and offer my hand across the table, which he takes. “Don’t think too hard on it. We’ve talked and after we’ve walked through your trees and I’ve seen the fish and the surprise, you’re taking me to bed, and we’ll still be there in the morning.” Jumping to my feet, I tug him to his and grin. “I can’t wait to wake up with you in the morning. I’ve never had morning sex.”
“Savannah, you’re not helping.”
“What?” I question, innocently. He has a nice bulge going on behind his zipper, which I make sure to rub against when I lean in for a sweet kiss, albeit a brief one.
