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“It’s delicious. It’s going to ruin you for all other grilled cheeses.”
Jameson slices some fancy loaf of bakery bread and slabs enough butter to clog my arteries onto each slice. He layers cheese and bacon between the bread and drops the sandwich on a skillet. It sizzles, and my mouth waters as I watch the cheese melt and ooze out of the sides.
A few minutes later, he places the sandwiches on plates and sets one in front of me. I pause before I take a bite and say, “Jameson, what do you call it when a dinosaur crashes their car?”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me with an exasperated expression.
“Come on, play along!”
“No idea. Do tell,” he says in a dramatic voice. He places his chin on his knuckles as if he’s never been more interested in anything in his life.
“Tyrannosaurus Wrecks!”
He doesn’t respond. He just blinks at me for a moment, but then I see the light in his eyes as he gets the joke. His mouth twitches ever so slightly, but he manages to hold it together. Dang it. I really thought that one would get him.
“You need help,” he says, and then he takes a bite of his sandwich. I follow his lead, and holy smokes, he was right. This is the most amazing grilled cheese of my life. I’m taking mental notes in my head. Crap-ton of butter, no more cheapo bagged bread, bacon!
Halfway through my sandwich, his doorbell rings, and we both jump up from our barstools and race to the door like our favorite celebrity is waiting on the other side. He grabs his bowl of full-sized candy bars, and I grab my Laffy Taffys. The kids at the door whoop and holler for Jameson’s candy bars, and most ignore my candy. One girl takes a few with a pitying look on her face. What’s wrong with these kids? It’s free candy!
Jameson pats me on the shoulder and shakes his head. “Don’t feel too bad,” he says. “Once my candy bars are gone, a few kids might actually want your reject candy.”
I roll my eyes and cradle my bag of candy in my lap. I pull one out and look at the wrapper. “Oh, Jamesyyyy,” I sing to him.
“No, not again,” he groans. “Is this how it’s going to be the entire night?”
“Yes,” I say and clear my throat, getting ready to tell the joke. He gestures for me to get on with it. “Why do fish always sing off key?” I ask, desperately trying to contain my giggles. I don’t wait for him to say anything before answering, “You can’t tuna fish!”
He covers his mouth and coughs to cover up his laughter. Success! I jump up and start dancing in celebration of my victory.
“That was not a laugh! I coughed!” he argues.
“Nope. You were just trying to be sneaky.”
“Give me one of those,” he demands, snatching the bag from me. He reaches his hand in and pulls out a piece of candy. “Oh, this is too perfect. What building has the most stories?”
“I don’t know!” I say, excited he’s getting in on the fun now.
“The library,” he says with a raised eyebrow.
We both burst into laughter, and I grab a Laffy Taffy from the bag.
“Oh no. Jameson, I think someone we know hand-picked these jokes for us,” I say before reading it. “What did the skunk say when the wind changed?”
“This is creepy…”
“It’s all coming back to me now,” I say, and then I burst out into a rendition of the Celine Dion song while Jameson holds his hands over his ears. I’ve been told a time or two that my singing voice is less than stellar. I’m under no false illusions that he’ll hear my singing and go all melty over it.
He grabs my hands that I’m waving around dramatically and pulls me against his chest, then he covers my mouth with one of his hands. “Woman, you have to stop singing. You’re going to make my ears bleed.”
I bite his hand for the insult, and he screeches like a little girl. He looks down at me with a sparkle in his eye, and I want to be the one to make them sparkle like this every single day. I want all of my evenings to be just like this with him.
We haven’t kissed since that day two weeks ago because I’ve respected his wishes and taken the time to think about what I want. And here and now, I’m deciding that what I want is Jameson Lane.
I sit up straighter so that my face is right in front of his. He takes a deep breath and cradles my neck with his hand. I place both of my hands on his cheeks and lean in to press my lips to his. It’s not a long kiss. I keep it short and sweet to gauge his reaction.
“Have you decided what you want?” he asks in a whisper.
I nod my head and say, “I want to give us a shot.” He pulls me in for another kiss, and this time, I pour all of the love I have for him into it. Yes, love. I’m nowhere near ready to say it to him, but it’s there.
We’re interrupted by another round of trick-or-treaters, but once our candy is distributed, we go right back to the couch and spend the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms.
I stay awake into the wee hours of the morning. I’m going to regret it in the morning when Lo comes bouncing into my room to tell me all about the Halloween party she went to tonight.
But I can’t help it. Tonight was magical, and I’m floating on a high. Inspiration has struck thanks to Jameson, and I have to write it all now, or I won’t remember it tomorrow. My hero and heroine are in that dreamy phase of their relationship. Everything is going swimmingly. There are rainbows in the sky, puppies are running around in all their furry cuteness, and goodness, is that a unicorn? If this were a movie, this would be where they insert the cheesy montage. Things could not possibly be better for the two love birds.
