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I’m pretty sure my jaw hits the floor but I do my best to slam my mouth closed before he notices. Having Dante cook me a dinner isn’t something I didn’t even know that I wanted but now that it’s a possibility I can’t think of any other way I’d rather spend tonight. Suddenly, realization hits me and I deflate. “I really wish I could, but Hollie has a date tonight with Archer and I promised her I would help her get ready.”
I can see him physically rear back at that revelation. “What do you mean Hollie has a date with Archer? He’s her boss and like, twelve years older than her.”
“What’s the problem with that?” I ask, my tone coming out more harshly than I mean it to. “They both really seem to like each other. It’s just a date.” I’m sure that my avid defense of Hollie and Archer has nothing to do with my desire to date my own much older boss. Nope, it has nothing to do with that at all.
“I mean, if it’s what they both want, I guess it’s okay. I’m just surprised is all,” he says. He has that cute furrow in his brow that he gets when he’s thinking deeply on something. Like always, I want to reach up and smooth it out.
“Her date is at seven,” I say nervously. “I could bake at home and then bring it over then?”
“Sounds good, it’s a date.” My breath catches and Dante’s face immediately turns a shade of red I’ve never seen. “I don’t mean adatedate. I mean, well you know what I mean.”
Of course he doesn’t mean it’s anactualdate. I get that. Even if for just the tiniest of seconds my heart had leapt in my chest. “Oh, course not.” I laugh, hoping he doesn’t see the pink that’s surely spreading across my cheeks. “But I’m warning you, when you have to spit whatever I make out into the trash, I’m going to say I told you so.” His only response is a smile and a wink that makes my knees a little weak.
ELEVEN
Dante
What the fuck was I thinking?I really am a spectacular idiot. I’m supposed to be keeping my distance from Violet, not inviting her over for home-cooked meals. I just couldn’t seem to stop myself.
After we left the store and got back to the house, I sent her home for the day. There was nothing pressing that needed to be done and I wanted to give her time to do her baking. When she talked about how bad she was at it, I felt horrible. I know Bianca told me it was bad, but I didn’t expect to find that even Violet believed it.
I could see in her eyes how much she loved doing it. It doesn’t matter what she brings over tonight, I’m going to find something good to say about it, even if it’s the worst thing I’ve ever eaten. It’s not like she’s going to be getting a gourmet meal out of me.
I move around the kitchen checking the refrigerator and going through cabinets. Maybe Bianca is right. Maybe I should stop relying on takeout so much. Unless Violet is in the mood for some slightly moldy cheddar cheese with a side of ketchup packets, it doesn’t look like I have much to offer. I know I promised her a home-cooked meal but she might have to settle for takeout.
I pull up the trusty delivery app on my phone and decide on Thai food. I know that I’ve seen her eating pad Thai before so that’s a safe bet. I quickly add a variety of other dishes to my order and schedule the delivery before running upstairs to take a shower. Once I’m standing in my closet, trying to decide what to wear, I realize that I’m treating this like an actual date.
This is NOT a date.I just need to repeat that to myself several more times. When Violet shows up here in a few hours, I don’t want her to think I’m some creep trying to take advantage of her. I look at the clothes hanging in my closet once again and let out a sigh. Besides, it’s not like I have any date clothes. It’s been years since I’ve put in any effort. I guess it doesn’t hurt to put in some now, you know, for practice. I grab a pair of jeans that I rarely wear, meaning that they aren’t worn out or splattered with paint, and a sweater that Bianca gave me for Christmas a few years ago and quickly get dressed.
Once I’m back downstairs, I look at the clock and realize I still have about forty-five minutes before Violet’s going to show up. I decide to set the table to keep myself busy. I almost set everything up in the dining room but at the last second decide that’s way too formal for a casual dinner between friends.
After I’ve finished putting down some of the only matching place mats, dishes, and flatware I own onto the kitchen table, I look it over with a critical eye. I feel like it’s missing something. I almost grab the big candle that sits on the bookshelf in the living room but stop myself, realizing that definitely screams date. Why is this so difficult?
I decide to leave the table as is and grab a beer from the fridge before making my way to the living room and flipping on the TV. I just need to distract myself, so I throw on some comedy I’ve seen a hundred times, and it isn’t long before I notice that my leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably. I shouldn’t be this nervous. This is just having dinner with a friend, an employee even!
Finally, the food arrives, and I take it into the kitchen. I’m about to dump everything from their takeout containers into other dishes when I realize that one, I’m being ridiculous and two, I don’t think I have that many serving dishes. I’ve obviously been a bachelor for way too long.
After what feels like an eternity the doorbell rings and I open the door to find Violet standing there with a large, white, circular dish covered with a towel in her hand. I notice immediately that she’s also changed her clothes. Earlier today she was wearing a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. Now, don’t get me wrong, she looked beautiful, she always does. But tonight, she’s blowing me away.
Now she’s wearing a simple black skirt that hits a few inches above her knees and is made out of some kind of wispy material that swishes as she balances from foot to foot on the front porch. Her top is a soft pink, covered in the tiniest of hearts, that dips low in the front, giving me a view of what I shouldn’t be looking at, and just skims the top of her skirt allowing me the tantalizing glimpse of the porcelain skin below.
“Um, hey.” Her voice pulls me out of my daze and I quickly bring my eyes back up to her face.
“You look beautiful,” I say before I can think better of it. A pretty blush covers her cheeks but she doesn’t look freaked out, thank God.
“Thank you,” she says softly before pushing the dish in her hands toward me. “I made clafoutis.”
I quickly take it out of her hands and step out of the way so she can get past me into the house. “What’s a clafoutis?” I ask starting to lift the edge of the towel so that I can take a peek. Before I can see anything, she smacks my hand away and passes me on the way to the kitchen, inadvertently drawing my eyes to her swaying hips and ass.
“Not yet. You promised me dinner first. If I have to embarrass myself with my baking the least you can do is show me your cooking.”
“Yeah, about that...” Before I can explain, she comes to a dead stop in front of me and I can’t stop myself in time from crashing into her. I instinctively wrap my arm around her waist so that she doesn’t fall forward, and before I know it, I have her back pulled tight up against my front, my fingers grazing the soft skin of her stomach and I’m instantly hard. Her hand comes up and rests on top of mine for just a moment before she pulls away. I can only hope she didn’t feel my arousal at our contact.
“I thought you were going to cook,” she says, gesturing to the table stacked with takeout containers without looking me in the eye.Shit, I really hope she didn’t notice how hard she makes my dick.
“I guess I should have picked up something at the store,” I say sheepishly. “It turns out there was nothing in the house that was actually edible. Plus, I can’t really subject you to my cooking so I ordered us some Thai food. You like pad Thai, right?”
She looks at me with a surprised expression. “Yeah, how did you know?”
