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“Oh, wow.” I laugh. “That’s a drastic change.” Smiling, I look around the completely finished kitchen, loving the white, light blue, and navy color combination. It’s like the sky and ocean have bled inside through the large window above the farmhouse sink that looks out to the water.
“I know.” He laughs, rocking back on his heels. “The kitchen is more important than the living room, den, or bathroom down here.”
“What smells so good?” I ask, holding back a moan. It’s heavenly.
“That’s the surprise,” he says, almost shyly, looking even cuter. “I made us dinner. If that’s okay…”
“Yeah, that’s okay,” I tell him, genuinely caught off guard. Kyle rarely cooked for me. He always said that he spent all day in a kitchen cooking for other people so he had no desire to come home and cook for me or himself.
I hated it. If I cooked, he’d always have a criticism despite the fact that it was always delicious. I know I’m a good cook, he just thought I was inferior because he was aprofessional.
Fucking dick.
At the time, it didn’t bother me. He was never outright rude or anything, it was just in the way he said certain things. But looking back on it now, it bothers the hell out of me, and I wish I paid a little more attention.
“You okay?” Tyler asks, touching my arm.
“Oh, sorry, yeah,” I say quickly, shaking myself out of that memory.
“Where did you go just then?”
I go to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, but stop when I realize I have it up in a bun. “Just a memory that has me wondering why I was with Kyle for as long as I was.”
“Want to talk about it?” he asks gently, his blue eyes sincere.
I love that he offered, but I shake my head no. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“Sure.” He nods.
“So, what did you make?”
Walking over to the oven, he pulls out a covered dish, and places it on the island in the middle of the kitchen.
I sit at one of the stools where a place setting is waiting, and watch him with eager eyes take the lid off. Steam rises, and along with it comes the heavenly scent of meat, potatoes, and vegetables.
“Oh my god, Tyler,” I groan.
Laughing, he fans the steam away so I can see his aqua eyes dancing with humor. “Just what I like to hear, sugar.” He winks.
“Shut up,” I say through a laugh, and he slices me off a few big pieces of pot roast and dishes me out a couple potatoes and carrots. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Making himself a plate, he sits at the stool around the corner of the island from me and nods, wanting me to eat first. And with one bite, I’m in heaven.
“Holy shit,” I moan.
“Sugar, my mind is going to a lot of places with all those sweet, dirty sounds you’re making.”
“Sorry,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. I didn’t even realize how sexual I sounded. He’s just a really good cook. I’ve never had beef so tender and full of flavor.
“No worries.” He smiles. “I can cook for you anytime you’d like. It gets boring just doing it for myself all the time.”
“You don’t cook for your women to impress them?” I taunt, smirking.
“Mywomen?” He laughs. “Do I strike you as a man with many women?”
“Yeah,” I answer honestly. “But only because of your face, body, smile, and eyes.” I shrug nonchalantly, trying to keep it light, despite being dead serious. He has to have women lining up to be with him…there’s no way he doesn’t.
“You’re going to make me blush, El,” he says, giving me his boyish smile. “But you’re mistaken. I don’t cook for women I date. But for friends? Friends, I cook for.”
