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“I have to put the orange lights up on the tree and decorate for Halloween. I can’t believe it’s already October. I usually have my scarecrow guy sitting there by now,” she said, as they went by the bench.
“Cozy,” he said, as she opened the front door and let them.
“Cozy, yes, that’s code forsmallisn’t it?” she said, as she went around and turned on a few lamps.
“I don’t speak in code. Cozy means cozy,” he said definitely. “I think your place is kind of perfect, actually.”
She searched him for any hint of false flattery, but there was none of that in him. Probably ever. Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy who said stuff just to placate other people. If he didn’t like something, he was the kind of person who would say nothing at all. Unless it bothered him, of course, and then she knew from experience that he had no trouble speaking his mind.
“Thank you. It took me a few years to get it how I wanted it,” she replied when she had decided he really meant the compliment. “You can let Daisy off her lead, you know,” she added when she noticed that the dog was obediently waiting at Rafe’s heel.
He unclipped Daisy’s harness but kept looking around like something was missing as he did so. “You don’t have any pets?” he asked finally.
She laughed, understanding the irony.
“I have anywhere between thirty and fifty pets at any given time,” she replied, taking his coat, and hanging it on in the front closet. “Bringing any one of them home with me would be favoritism. Besides,” she said, coming to stand in front of him. “I always have to say goodbye to them. That’s the point of the shelter.”
He watched her carefully for a while as if trying to figure out how that would feel. “But you’re such an animal lover. Don’t you want to own one of your own? To not say goodbye?”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I know better than to get attached.”
“Ah,” Rafe said, his eyes shuttering.
There was an uncomfortable pause and Abbe tried to figure out if she had said something wrong.
“I should shower,” she said, and fled to the bathroom. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
She felt like a bad hostess, abandoning him like that, but figured it was better she hurried. And anyway, she needed another minute to herself. Being with Rafe was so all-consuming she was starting to feel off-balance.
“Calm down. It’s just a date,” she chided herself, and then she disappeared into the bathroom.
Eight
Try as she might to rush, it was hopeless. She had to wash her hair. And shave. And then she had to lotion up. And then when she was done with that, she realized she had to clip her toenails because it had been forever since she’d taken a moment for self-care.
Nearly forty-five minutes later she came out of the bathroom completely groomed, with her hair dry but still in her robe. Rushing out, already apologizing, she realized that Rafe had turned on some music. She heard clinking in the kitchen and smelled food.
Coming into the kitchen area she saw Rafe standing over her stove, cooking.
Vegetables arced up and landed smartly back in the pan. His jacket and tie were off, his sleeves were rolled up and there was a glass of wine next to him. A very sleepy Daisy was at his feet, keeping close, but not so close he would trip over her.
“Finally,” he groused with a big smile on his face as Abbe shuffled, stunned, into the room. “When I realized that you were trying to wash yourself down the drain, I canceled our dinner reservations. But we can still have our date. Do you like stir fry?”
Abbe came all the way into the kitchen and stood on the other side of the island. He had already set it with two side-by-side places, and an empty wine glass waited in front of one of the plates.
“I love stir fry,” she answered, sitting in the spot he’d obviously reserved for her.
“Good, because it’s one of the few things I know how to cook,” he replied, pushing some veggies onto her plate.
She stared at the food with zero appetite.
“Youdidsay to help myself to anything in the kitchen,” he said carefully.
“You are a very literal person,” she commented.
“I know,” he replied in a subdued tone. He poured wine into her glass, silently watching it fill with a little frown between his eyebrows, and Abbe realized something. He got quiet and looked troubled when he was feeling uncertain. It was such a contrast to how he usually sliced through the world like he owned it, that it softened something in Abbe.
“Come here,” she said. The words just fell out of her, unthinking, but she didn’t regret saying them. She very much wanted him closer.
