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“I will eat anything you put in front of me. Just tell me how to help.”
“Right, well, you wash these.” I load up his arms with the vegetables that need rinsing and pop the onions, garlic, and carrots on the counter.
I fill a pan with water to boil and preheat the oven before I start chopping and peeling as Graves brings over the freshly washed vegetables.
Snagging a piece of sliced carrot, he sits on one of the bar chairs and watches me. “You are scarily fast with a knife,” he observes, making me grin as I speed up, making his eyes open comically wide.
“Shit, woman, I know I said I’d eat anything, but I’d rather not have fingertips in my sauce.”
“Don’t worry, I’m an expert.” I tease before tossing the vegetables onto a baking tray and drizzling them with oil. I pop them in the oven and set the timer.
“You want a drink?” I grab the open bottle of red from the fridge and look at him.
“I don’t drink,” he answers quietly.
“No worries. You want water or juice or something?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay, well, while we’re waiting, how about we fight over movies?”
I grab my glass of wine, head to the sitting room, and flick on the humongous TV before browsing through the movie selection.
“So, what do you want to watch?”
“I’m not fussy, but I’m sensing you’re an action movie kind of girl.”
I feel my cheeks get hot. “I do like action movies.” I pick at the hem of my shorts.
I feel his eyes on the side of my face. I try to ignore him, but when he grins, I glare at him.
“What?”
“You like romance movies, don’t you?”
“And so what if I do?”
His hands fly up in a sign of surrender. “Hey, no judgment from me. I just never expected it from you. I happen to like a good rom-com as much as the next person.”
“My friends are assholes and tease me about it because it doesn’t really fit with the whole vibe I put out there. But movies are all about the fantasy, and that’s what love and romance have always been to me. A fantasy. Something make-believe.”
“You’ve never seen it in real life?” His grin drops now.
“Not until recently. Let’s just say my experiences are limited, but I always believed it was out there. It was just something for other girls, not for the likes of me.”
“Hey.” He sits down beside me and takes the remote from my hand.
“I don’t like the way you talk about yourself like that. Like you don’t think you deserve to have someone love you.”
“It’s not that I believe I don’t deserve it.” At least not now. I’m older, and I’ve lived a little. “It’s that I’m not that person, you know? I’m not girly, and I throw a mean right hook. I know how to use a gun with more expertise than most military units, and I’m opinionated and—”
He presses his finger to my lips. “And you’re perfect exactly as you are. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume you have girlfriends who are more girly, as you put it?”
I think of Sugar, Dulce, and Lollie, and nod.
“Some men want high heels, tight clothes, blingy jewelry, and the sexy swagger that comes with the confidence of knowing you look good. Some guys want the wallflower beauty who sits in the shadows and has no idea how attractive she is. Her quiet presence brings out a nurturing need, and some men need that. They need to be the protector.”
I nod, which is why dating is so hard for me. Men take it as a blow to their ego when, out of the two of us, I’m the one usually more equipped to take down an armed intruder.
