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“Mm.” I lick my lips.
He tastes it too.
“It’s good, right?”
I nod. And I go to step away, but he kisses me briefly.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I just wanted to.”
I smile as the doorbell rings.
Here we go…
The hair on the back of my neck raises, and I return to the dishes, needing to do something. I need to focus on something other than if tonight will be the same as it was.
“I think the plate is clean enough,” Marc whispers behind me. His hand touches my waist, and he kisses the back of my head. “I’ve got you.”
I don’t bother denying that I’m nervous. I don’t want to lie to him, so I just nod as he walks away to answer the door.
I can hear voices and the heavy footsteps across the wooden floors let me know they are close.
Wiping my hands dry on the towel, I wring them together with white knuckle force.
“Hi, Aria,” I say with a smile, pushing past the way my heart is beating in reaction to seeing her.
She offers a warm smile back. “Hi, Gracie. What are you cooking?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m cooking.” I laugh. “Your dad cooked. I observed and cleaned up.”
“You can’t cook either?” she asks, moving to stand behind the counter, and I can’t help but admire her olive-green sweats and how the color complements her blond hair and complexion.
I shake my head with a knowing smile. “Do you burn everything too?” I ask curiously.
Aria looks at Marc, who’s grinning. “Yeah, I’m not really allowed to cook.”
The pink cheeks and the way he’s grinning make me want to find out more.
“Why’s that?” I push, lifting a brow.
“I once left a pot of water on the stove and completely forgot about it until the fire truck turned up.”
I wince, covering my mouth with my hand. “Oh no. I think that may beat any of my accidents, but at least not having to cook means less mess to clean.”
“Oh, dear,” Marc mutters, but Aria just laughs, and I wink at her.
Finally, we find something to connect over.
“Well, lucky for you two, I can cook. But maybe I should sign you both up for cooking classes.” He wiggles his eyebrows at us.
I shrug. “I’ll do it for you. But there is no guarantee that I can be helped.”
Aria leans on the counter with a quirk in her brow. “Same. Sorry, Dad, but I do well in grades for school, but this may be one area I suck.”
He steps closer to us and waves his hand, as if we are being ridiculous. “Never. I have faith in both of you girls. I’ll find the best teacher.”
I look over at Aria, who’s shaking her head. I’m enjoying the lightness of this conversation; my stomach isn’t churning with nerves like it was before. As soon as I saw her glowing eyes and relaxed face, I took a long breath. We aren’t going to have a bad night.
