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“Oh, what exactly do you do?” I asked, preparing to check one of my questions off my list.
“Corporate finance, mostly. I also do a little nonprofit work, or I used to.”
“Did you lose your job, Faith?”
Her hands froze as she retrieved the knife again. “Um, that’s kind of a complicated question and answer.” She shot me a grimace.
“Okay, would you prefer not to answer it right now?”
“Yes, I would prefer that. I don’t want Luke to walk in and hear it.”
“Okay, then we will table that question for later. How about you tell me what’s on your list?”
She finished cutting the tomato and scooped it into the salad bowl before she washed her hands and turned to me. “Are you in a rush?”
“Not at all, why?”
“Okay, can we wait until after dinner to discuss that? I’m afraid that if I think about any of that before we eat, I’ll lose my appetite.”
“Absolutely,” I told her, and she gave me a full smile before she headed to the stove. “There is a wine opener in this drawer.” She pointed to the one beside her. “And glasses above me, if you want to pour us some wine.”
“I can do that.” I eyed what she had on the stove, chicken parmesan. “Wow, I’m impressed. You do know how to cook.”
“Ha-ha!” she said as I located the wine opener. I stepped toward her to get to the cabinet over her head at the same time that she made a slight side step, and our bodies came in contact. Her eyes slammed into mine over her shoulder, and we both remained still for two seconds. Her eyes slipped down my face to my mouth and then away as she muttered, “Sorry.”
Although she had looked away, she didn’t move her body. To retrieve the wine glasses, I had to lean more into her and reach over her head. The whole time, I was very aware of the feel of her shoulder pressing against my chest and the way her buttocks brushed my groin. Maybe it took me a few seconds longer than it should have to gather the two long-stemmed glasses, but it didn’t appear that either of us was in a hurry to move.
When I finally did step away, I saw her shiver and wondered if that had to do with me or her being near the stove. Could I be lucky enough that it was because of me?
I poured the wine in silence and then helped her put everything on the table.
“Luke, wash your hands, it’s time to eat,” Faith called as I approached the table, and she spun around abruptly. Her hands landed on my chest, and her gaze snapped to mine again.
The thought of wrapping my arms around her and kissing her until she couldn’t stand straight ripped through me, but instead, I put my arms around her lightly. “How about a hug since I didn’t get one when I arrived.”
She laughed and slipped her arms around my neck, hugging me briefly. When we pulled back, we locked gazes again, and this time, it was mine that dropped to her mouth. Her lips parted, and I was ready to dive into them, but loud footsteps raced toward us, and Faith jumped back.
“Did you wash your hands?” she asked Luke as he climbed into his seat.
“Yeah.”
“You sure didn’t wash them very long,” she admonished.
I wondered briefly if she would send him back to the bathroom, and if so, how I could get her back in my arms again. Unfortunately, she didn’t.
Luke took command of the conversation over dinner, and I realized quickly that he was a lot like his father. While I understood that kids were internally focused on themselves, Luke seemed even more so as he told me all his wishes and wants.
As we finished, Faith spoke. “Luke, I didn’t tell you before, but Peter was your father’s best friend in high school.”
Luke looked between the both of us. “I thought he was your friend.”
“He is my friend, but he was also your dad’s friend.”
A sadness slipped through his eyes for a moment. “Cool.”
“Maybe sometime I can tell you some stories about when he was little. Your dad and I knew each other since we were your age.”
“That long?” he asked.
