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She started searching for the wine opener but stopped short when she saw it on the counter. Next to Quinn. She glanced up at him, and the heat crawling over her face intensified. The grin splitting his lips was knowing.
“No, that’s okay,” he said. “That one’s a replacement for one I swiped a while back.” After lowering the stove dials, he gestured to the refrigerator. “There’s grape juice in the fridge. I figured we could pretend it was wine... or something.”
Uncertainty crossed his expression, and he turned back to the stove. Her insides, as if they’d needed extra prodding, melted a little more. Was this guy for real? Gorgeous and thoughtful?
She moved to stand next to him and laid her hand on his forearm. “That’s really sweet of you, Quinn. Thank you.”
He mumbled something she couldn’t decipher.
Her eyes widened. Was heblushing?
“Really, it’s no big deal. I happen to be a big fan of grape juice.” After giving a spoonful of sauce a quick blow, he lifted it to her lips, cutting off any reply. “Does it taste all right?”
She closed her lips around the spoon and her tastebuds exploded with flavor. Ripe tomatoes, garlic, and oregano with a hint of sweetness and a kick of spice. “Oh my god, Quinn,” she said, licking her lips. “That’s delicious.”
He blinked, his eyes locked on her mouth. “Sorry, what?”
She smothered a grin. “I said it’s absolutely fantastic.”
Good to know she wasn’t the only one affected by whatever this was between them.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Dinner ended up being chicken rigatoni in a creamy red wine tomato sauce with a side of thick, crusty Italian bread slathered in a homemade roasted garlic and parmesan butter. If Alex hadn’t witnessed Quinn making it all, she would’ve sworn he’d picked it up from a restaurant. It wasthatdelicious.
There was something about a man who was at home in a kitchen. There was especially something aboutthisman.
As they finished their meals, he regaled her with lighthearted tales of small-town crime. When he spoke of one of his deputies foiling the local high school’s senior prank, she found herself laughing, completely at ease. For the hundredth time that night, she wondered how that was possible.
The whole situation should’ve made her nervous. A one-on-one dinner with a man? Whom she’d only known for a couple of weeks? Who not only dwarfed her physically, but was also the town’s sheriff?
The fact that none of it triggered her anxiety, the fact that it all felt so normal and so right, was astonishing.
Even more astonishing? As she sat across the kitchen table from Quinn, listening to him talk, a calm unlike any she’d ever known enveloped her.
“Alex, you okay?”
She pushed her musings away. “Sorry about that. I really was paying attention to you. Promise. And we’ve established my poker face is nonexistent, so you know I’m not lying.”
“That’s very true.” Setting their now-empty plates to the side, he relaxed in his chair. “What’s on your mind?”
“Oh, it’s silly, really.” She hesitated, unsure how to continue. “I just... I don’t know... I feel comfortable around you, and I guess it makes me nervous because I’mnotnervous.” She grimaced. “Does that even make sense?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What you’re saying is you feel like youshouldbe nervous around me, but you’re not. And because you’re not,that’smaking you nervous. Right?”
Her lips pressed into a tight, embarrassed line. “That about sums it up.” She shrugged. “Stupid, huh?”
“Not at all.” Reaching across the table, he held out his hands, palms up.
She knew what he was waiting for. He was leaving it up to her.
She took a deep breath, exhaled, and placed her hands in his.
He gave them a delicate squeeze, tracing little circles on the insides of her wrists. If he was trying to distract her with his touch, well... it was working.
“If you feel comfortable around me, then I, for one, am glad.” He shot her a lopsided smile.
She couldn’t help but return it.
