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Chapter Fifteen
Harper
“There’s my baby,” I coo as I enter my house, Snuggles happily wagging her stubby little tail, tongue hanging down her chin. She jumps on her hind legs, anxious to receive her first rubdown of the evening.
“If it isn’t the ugliest mutt in town,” Latham says behind me, entering my house and essentially stealing my dog’s attention. Snuggles takes one look at our visitor and jumps with excitement. She practically pees down her leg as he takes a knee and pets her.
“Deserter,” I mumble, tossing my keys and purse on the table. “You see I’m home, I’m fine. You can leave.”
“No can do, Sweetheart. I bought sandwiches, remember?”
“That was an hour ago,” I remind him, heading into the kitchen.
Snuggles’ nails clip on the hardwood floor, the light jingle of her tags filling the small kitchen. I open the fridge and find a pound of hamburger and some of Mom’s homemade egg noodles. Digging the rest of the ingredients out of the cupboard, I get to work on one of my favorite easy peasy comfort dishes.
I toss the hamburger in the skillet to brown and place a pot of water beside it to boil. “Something I can help with?” he asks behind me. When I glance back, he’s leaning casually against the doorjamb, tight black T-shirt molded to his impressive upper body. It’s almost as magnificent as the bottom half.
“I don’t think so. It’ll just take about twenty minutes to mix this all together.”
He doesn’t say a word, but comes over and has a seat at the small bar for two. I barely even know he’s there while I brown the hamburger and put the noodles in the boiling water. Once both are done, I drain the water and then add the meat to the pot. A large can of cream of mushroom soup, some milk, Velveeta cheese, and salt and pepper are thrown in too, and I start to stir it together until it’s rich and creamy. When I’m satisfied with the results, I grab two plates from the cabinet and dish up dinner.
Latham glances down at the contents before grabbing the fork beside the plate. He takes a hearty forkful and shovels it into his mouth. That wonderful, yet infuriating mouth that brought me so much pleasure earlier, yet smarts off and makes me angrier than a bull in a cage. “This is delicious,” he says as I take a small bite.
“Thanks.”
“Is this one of your mom’s recipes?”
“Nope, actually, it’s one of mine.”
He glances over and raises and eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, when I first moved in by myself, I would experiment with different ingredients. I learned a lot at home with Mom, but it’s hard to make huge homemade meals when you’re cooking for one. So, I started trying new things and quickly learned you could put cream of mushroom soup in just about anything and make it taste fantastic,” I say with a shrug. “This is one of the very first things I created, though I’m sure it’s not completely original, but it’s still one of my favorites.” He doesn’t answer, which has me glancing his way. “What?”
“You’re amazing.” His eyes are locked on mine, and even though I look for it, I don’t find a single hint of humor or mocking.
I don’t say anything, just dig back in to my meal. It doesn’t take long before our plates are clean (he had seconds). When I try to stand up, he sets his hand on my arm. “Let me.”
I keep my mouth shut, but stay seated as Latham picks up our plates and rinses them off. He maneuvers around my kitchen effortlessly, and a bit too comfortably for my liking. He grabs the pot and brings it to the counter, glancing my way when he gets there. I point to the cabinet to the right, where he pulls out a plastic container and scoops the rest of the dinner inside. Then, without being prompted, he places all of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. When his task is completed, he crosses his arms and leans against the counter the way he did the other night.
“Can I ask you something?” His eyes are on mine and I can feel the seriousness in his question.
“Sure.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“You weren’t there. I needed to get back to work.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”
I open my mouth, but close it quickly. I take a second to collect my thoughts before I speak. Glancing down, I run my hand over the slightly raised texture on my countertop. “I got scared.”
“Of me?”
I quickly look back up, my eyes connecting with his brown ones. “No, never. I was scared of how…comfortable I felt.”
“I wasn’t exactly expecting you to be gone when I woke up in the morning.”
“It was a little hard to get home early in the morning without a car and wearing a prom dress.”
