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I squeezed my legs around him. “Even if she hates the idea of us?”
“My sister’s opinion isn’t going to force me to let you go, Oaklyn. Not a fucking thing in this world can do that. It’s taken me a long time to get here. I’m not returning to my bachelor life, and I won’t let a day go by where you’re not mine.”
I rubbed my nose across his and whispered, “Best answer ever.”
“I don’t want to set you down because then you’ll be too far away from me and I’ll start craving you again, but I’m dying to try this dinner you made, and I don’t want it to get cold.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. “Let’s eat.”
He reluctantly set my feet on the floor after he kissed me, and I hurried over to the lasagna cooling on the stovetop, the layers settling. I cut two pieces and plated them. I added slices of the bread I’d made and brought them over to the table, where Camden was pouring us some wine.
“Wine now, vodka later,” he said as I eyed his glass. “There will be a later, right? Or do I need to worry about my sister randomly showing up?”
“She calls first. Always. So, even if she came, we’d have enough time to hide you somewhere.”
“Now, wouldn’t that be interesting?”
I sighed, lifting my fork and placing my napkin on my lap. “Let’s not even think about it.”
“Good call.” He glanced down at his dinner. “This looks fucking delicious.” He even leaned his face close to the pasta to smell it. “Mmm.”
“Remember, it’s different from Mom’s. I added some veggies and more meat than she typically uses—”
“Fuuuck.” His head leaned back as he chewed, his eyes closing. “Oaklyn, you’ve done it.”
I was so nervous that I hadn’t even taken a bite yet. I just knew what it tasted like from the tiny sample I’d tried before he came. “Really?”
“Mmhmm.” His neck straightened, and he looked at me. “It’s better than Mom’s.”
I shook my head. “No. It can’t be—”
“It is. Trust me. I’m blown the fuck away right now.” He took a piece of the bread and dipped it into the sauce and moaned as he bit off the red-soaked corner. “Holy shit. This is amazing too.”
I laughed as I sliced my fork through the cheese and noodles and brought some up to my mouth. “Wow,” I said from behind my hand, “it is good.”
“Where did you learn how to cook like this?”
I finished chewing and shrugged. “My mom taught me a lot. She can make anything taste yummy, but I think most of it came from all the years Hannah and I spent in this apartment. She was homebound with endless studying to do, so I had lots of time to experiment. And, as you know, your sister sugarcoats nothing, so when my creations sucked, she told me, and I got better.”
He took another bite, groaning before he said, “You know I come from a family of eaters—not just my immediate family, I mean, but my cousins are all a bunch of foodies as well. I’m saying that because I can tell the difference between someone who cooks just to eat and someone who cooks with love.”
I smiled before I took a sip of my wine. “Thank you. I really do love it.”
He was quiet for a moment, staring.
His gaze hitting every spot again.
“I think it’s time.”
I sucked in some air, holding it in my lungs. “Time for …”
He chuckled. “I told you that wasn’t going to come until lesson five, and we’re now on four.”
“And here I thought, you were going to budge.”
“I am. I’m giving you something I’ve never given to another woman.”
My heart started to pound the same way it had earlier tonight when I was in his arms. “So, you don’t want me to come up with a fantasy for this lesson?”
