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He pulled back, grinning. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. We could go for a pleasant ride, find a good spot to have a picnic, maybe have some fun too.”
“It’s mighty cold to be riding.”
“Oh, it’s warm enough most days. Besides, we have long johns.”
Noah reached around to grab my ass, giving it a nice squeeze. “I think that sounds just fine, then. I’d love to go riding with you.”
I suddenly wanted that just about more than anything. “Me too.”
“Let’s go get supper.”
We cooked together that night; me chopping vegetables, the last fresh ones he’d picked from his garden. I cut a tomato, then an onion as he got the chicken from the oven.
He’d stuffed it with lemons and chives and the aroma had me drooling. “Where’d you learn to cook?”
“Watching my mother. She was a damn fine cook. She learned from her grandmother. Her grandmother was the first generation of free women in that part of my family born in the states.”
My head turned to him, and I was surprised. “She was African American?”
“Yes, sir, she sure was. My great grandfather met her when she came here from North Carolina. He didn’t stand a chance, it was said. He took one look at her and was madly in love. They married in secret, of course, and moved into the middle of the prairie, all on their own. When my grandmother was born, she was the tenth child, and their last.”
That was a great love story. The world as it was back then, so narrow, but I’d learned that most times, it only appeared to have widened. “I like that story. Overcoming a lot, like how hard it was back then to be an interracial couple, to be with the person you love.”
“I like it too. My mom, she’d tell it to me, like a bedtime story. All the things they did in their little house on the prairie. We’d watch that show, you know, back when I was little, and she’d laugh and say that it wasn’t like that at all. At least not for our family, and she’d tell me others.”
“I was raised by my grandmother. She didn’t have many stories like that to tell. She was busy working all the time, so we got little what they call quality time, but she was a great cook too. Always made sure I wasn’t sitting home, eating out of cans or frozen dinners.”
“I’m sorry, Eli. That can’t have been easy.”
“No. It wasn’t, and I’ve been told that’s where some of my trauma comes from. At least that’s what the docs say. Me, being abandoned by my mom or whatever. I don’t remember a lot of trauma. I remember her, my grandma, coming home tired as hell and still doing the cooking and cleaning. I helped, but she never liked the way I did things. Would redo it all, but she didn’t complain. She never complained.”
That was another unexpected purge, but it felt good to say.
“No more trauma,” Noah vowed. “If I can help it.”
“Speaking of which, that lawyer…”
He huffed, “Chase. Yeah, well, he’s a piece of shit for a human, but a great lawyer, like my late husband. They just… anyway, we’ll meet with him, and I swear, he’ll help you. If not, I have some things on him that wouldn’t be taken well by the state bar association.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” Noah grunted.
I wanted to take his mind off it. “Let me serve this meal. You sit for once and let me serve you.”
“Eli, that’s not what I expect of you around here.”
“I know you don’t expect it. That’s why I want to do it. Now, sit. We’ll both do the dishes again. I enjoy working with you in the kitchen.”
Noah smiled warmly, then kissed my neck as he passed behind me. “Good enough, then. Serve me.”
I laughed and got to work, dishing us some chicken, then the cut vegetables. It was a light meal, and I had the feeling he made it that way for a reason. We ate everything on our plates, but the entire time, we were glancing over at one another, flirting, enjoying the company.
I went into the spare room to get my clothes, set on a shower, but when I turned, a stack of clothing in my arm, I saw Noah there, leaning in the doorway. “Hey,” I said to him, unable to keep the grin from my face.
“You takin’ a shower?”
