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I almost took him up on that, if for no other reason than to pull him into the bath for some relaxing ‘us’ time, but after a second, I shook my head. “Cooking helps me de-stress, and I think we both need it afterthat. Besides, I’m making your favorite.”
His eyes lit up, and he straightened. “You’re making scalloped potatoes and steak?”
I nodded, loving the excitement that drowned any of his previous unease. This was how Oliver should look, happy and all but bouncing on his heels. I’d do my best to pull this side out of him more often the longer we were together.
He had me in the air in a back-cracking hug before I could blink, the tight hold making me laugh as he put me down a second later.
“I was planning on making that soon, but it’ll be even better coming from you.”
I raised a brow. “You talk as if your cooking is awful.” And it wasn’t; I’d tasted it multiple times, and it was above average.
He shrugged, his smile firmly in place. “It’sokay, but eating food made for you by someone else is special. I’m capable of making it, but because it’s you behind the oven, it’ll be amazing.” Then he added on, his eyes softening. “You even remembered it was my favorite.”
Heat crawled over my cheeks at the adoration in his eyes, and I cleared my throat. “Of course I did. I can’t justnotknow that.”
He went to say something and then froze. Realization dawned behind his eyes, and his smile fell. The sudden change snapped a bolt of alarm down my spine, but when he spoke, it eased.
“I just realized I don’t know what your favorite dinner is!”
I’d never heard someone sound so bothered by that, but I bit back the urge to laugh. Instead, I took his hand and squeezed.
“You can ask me about that or anything else while I make dinner.”
He nodded, determination batting away the frown from before. “I’m going to know you better than anyone else after we’re done.”
My heart fluttered as I led the way to the kitchen. I didn’t doubt he would, and the fact he even wanted to was touching.
Focusing on the food for now, I answered his questions as I cooked, reveling in the peace. If this was what the rest of our lives would be like, I had no complaints.
Chapter 23
Oliver was all but vibrating at the speed of light as he bounded around the kitchen, a wide smile stretching his lips as we got ready.
One of his friends was coming over, and they’d been trying to plan this little get-together for months. It didn’t surprise me that Oliver was excited. I would be too in his place.
When the knock eventually rang out, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you dozens of times that you don’t have to knock!” He called back toward the entrance, and after a beat the door opened.
A man with short brown hair, a stubbled jaw, and kind but tired eyes walked in. He carried himself with a quiet kind of confidence and a tad bit of melancholy that hinted at something deeper. When he saw Oliver though, he smiled.
“You have a girlfriend now, you dolt. I’m not about to walk in, just in case you two are busy.”
Oliver went to say something but his friend cut him off with an unimpressed look. “Don’t even try to lie and say it isn’t possible. Iknowyou.”
Oliver looked my way, tipped his head in thought, and then shrugged. “Fair enough.” Visibly shaking himself off, he turned to me and beamed. “Sam, this is my girlfriend Jennifer. Jen, this is Samuel. Only call him that if you want to drive him up a wall.”
Sam rolled his eyes, lightly punching Oliver’s shoulder before offering a hand to me. “It’s nice to finally meet you. This guy never shuts up about you, and I was starting to worry you were a figment of his imagination.”
Oliver made a low noise of fake offense as I shook the offered hand. “Nope, I’m very real. It’s nice to meet you, too. Dinner is ready whenever you are.”
He nodded, following me back to the kitchen before taking a seat. Oliver pulled out my chair and I sat, squeezing his hand in thanks. Sam watched with amusement before shaking his head.
“You’re as whipped as ever, I see.” He said, and Oliver rolled his eyes.
“It’s called doting and respecting my woman. Maybe if you tried it, you’d actually manage tokeepone.”
The air changed the second the words left his mouth, and Oliver cringed as Sam’s face shut down.
“Shit, that was too far. Sorry.”
