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Then I’m opening the door just as he’s making his way up the steps. His eyes are on his phone as he absently scrolls, his other hand wrapped around the brown leather messenger bag that holds his worn Bible and notebook.
I take him in while he’s distracted.
It was another hot, humid day, but he’s still dressed professionally. Despite only having office hours for counseling, he’s wearing a white polo shirt and black slacks, creased and tailored to fit him like a glove.
Not a single hair is out of place and his shoes are so shiny, you could use them as a mirror. He slips his phone into the pocket of his slacks, and I hold my breath.
His gaze slides up as he reaches for the door, still unaware of my presence. He pauses mid-step, a hard breath whooshing from his lungs. Slowly, so fucking slowly, he takes me in.
My heart races against my ribs as I watch him scan me, his eyes heated in a way I’ve never seen before.
Reckless.
He takes his time, silently devouring me. My stomach clenches.
Dangerous.
My hand tightens on the old brass knob as his penetrating gaze sinks into me like a lover. My chest heaves.
Inappropriate.
Isaac’s eyes finally meet mine. They’re usually a rich brown. Sometimes darker when he’s upset or angry or golden when he’s laughing. The happier he is, the brighter they are, like some sort of window to his soul.
But right now—
Right now, they’re practically black. I’m not totally sure what that means, but judging by the heated expression on his beautiful face, I can take a wild guess.
My heart skips a beat as an unfamiliar emotion washes through my body.
No. Not unfamiliar. Just unfamiliar with him.
He’s so damn handsome.
Impulsive.
He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Eve,” he rasps, clearly just as affected as I am. We stare at each other as seconds bleed into moments. My words escape me. I’m frozen, unable to speak or move.
What is happening to me?
Tonight has to be perfect.
Shit.
“Hi.” I smile brightly. Shaking myself from the spell we’ve fallen into, I step back, opening the door and waving him inside. “Dinner’s ready.”
Isaac takes a deep breath, his dark brows dipping in confusion, but he follows my lead, and steps into the house. I take his bag and set it on the little entry table.
“Sweetheart,” he drawls, his eyes wide as he takes in the polished floors and spotless surfaces. “What’s gotten into you?” The house is always clean and Isaac’s hardly a messy man, but today, it’s perfect. His mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish from the pond.
Giggling to myself at his unusually shocked state, I grip his hand, gently tugging on it. He shakes himself out of his daze enough to chuckle, and lets me drag him to the dining table.
“Sit,” I demand, smiling brightly up at him. He shakes his head but gives me a grin that matches my own, and pulls out his chair at the head of the table, gracefully folding himself into it.
“What is all of this, Eve?” he murmurs, spreading his napkin across his lap, his gaze flitting over the full meal before him. It’s a bit much for Monday night’s dinner, but it’s necessary.
Feigning innocence, I shrug, pouring a glass of sweet tea for myself and water for him. I drop them both on the table and pause beside him, anxiously stopping myself from reaching for the serving utensils.
“Can’t I just do something nice for you?”
