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After rushing back here to find dinner still perfect, we now sit around the table, both full to the brim.
“Where did you learn to cook like that?” he asks, stretching his body. He had two servings of the chicken stir-fry I made, clearly enjoying it. I smile at him while I wonder what to tell him. Do I tell him the truth, that I learned all my cooking skills from a foster family who forced me to cook for everyone in the house, then left me the scraps to eat? Or from the professional chef who took me under his wing for the two weeks I was staying with the well-to-do family who wouldn’t let me sit on the white sofa?
“YouTube, those videos are fantastic,” I say, sipping the wine we poured, hiding behind the glass.
“Hmmmm, I will have to start watching some. Build up my repertoire,” he says with a wink, causing me to smile again. “So, you are feeling okay now? After yesterday?” he asks for the second time tonight. It must keep playing on his mind, as it is mine. Steve showing up is nothing new; I just had really hoped that he forgot about me. Perhaps moved on, found someone else to occupy his time. The move to Baltimore was supposed to make it harder for him to get to me. Obviously, that didn’t work.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little scared. I’m not used to the new neighborhood,” I say with another smile as I stand to clear the table. “Thank you again for organizing the driver. After the week I have had, it has been so good just to slip into that car and get back here. Strange thing, though…” I say with a small grin on my face, one that makes him smile wide back. I do wonder how he has all these connections. It could be that they are all part of the same building, but I am starting to think there is more to Eddie than meets the eye.
“What’s that?” he asks, tilting his head a little as he starts to help clear the table.
“The driver, Tony, turns up every morning with my exact coffee order. The exact same one you got for me on my first day of work. Do you know anything about that?” I ask, smiling, already knowing the answer. I wait for his reaction to see if there is anything that may tell me more about the man Eddie is.
“Tony is a pretty smart guy. I am sure he had good intel from a trusted source,” Eddie says, almost laughing, doing a terrible job of acting clueless.
“He also seems to refer to you as his superior, rather than his colleague. Why is that?” I press.
“Well, everyone who works here just wants the best for the tenants, so we work as a group. Maybe he acts that way because I organized the car for you instead of Brian?” Eddie says, shrugging, not appearing to be hiding anything, so I let it go. My sixth sense is a little off tonight, it seems. “You know, you are tough, Katie.”
“Oh, why do you say that?” I ask, wondering what his assessment of me is.
“Any other woman I know who had a fright like that would probably stay inside for weeks. Too scared to face the world again for a while. But not you. You went straight back to work, and I am sure if I let you, you would probably have declined the driver and car. Strong as well as stubborn,” he teases me, his eyes sparkling.
“I guess I am just not like any of the women you usually meet.”
“No, you are not. Much more beautiful.” His voice lowers slightly, and it leaves me breathless as he dashes back to the dinner table to collect the remaining dishes for the dishwasher as I get a hot sink of water going to scrub the pots and pans.
“Do you compliment all the women who make dinner for you?” I ask playfully, but I am fishing. This man is so perfect, I am sure he has had a lot of women.
“You are the only one, so how am I doing?” When he stops next to me, l look up at him in slight shock.
“No one has cooked you dinner before?” The words come out before I can stop them.
“Not like this. I usually go out,” he says with a shrug. “Oh, you have something on your nose…”
I dry my hands quicky to brush my nose. “Did I get it?” I ask, scrunching my nose, feeling borderline embarrassed.
“No, here, let me.” He brings his hand up and covers my nose in soap suds from the sink.
“Eddie!” I say in shock before I bark out a laugh as soapy water sits on my face.
“You look cute all sudsy, Pinkie,” he says, too busy laughing at me to notice where my hands are.
“Oh, really?” I ask just before I scoop up a lot of the suds and put them on top of his head. He now looks like the King of Soaptown, his sudsy crown high and flexible.
“Now it is game on,” he warns before he turns on the tap and shoots me with a short spurt of water. I scream in laughter as the spray hits me before he loses his grip, the rest splashing on him. He turns off the tap, the two of us in fits of laughter.
“I think I have soap up my nose,” I say with a giggle. This is by far the most innocent fun I have had in a long time. I feel relaxed. Safe. I can let my guard down with him and be secure in the fact that it will be okay.
“You light up a room when you smile.” He gives me the compliment as he grabs a kitchen towel and wipes my face for me. His touch is soft, his large hands gentle, as I stand still, hardly breathing. He is close, we are almost chest to chest, and I look up at him as he cleans my face. “Back to beautiful again,” he murmurs, staring down at me as one of his hands scoops around my middle so effortlessly, it is like it was always meant to be there. He holds my body in place right next to his as our breaths mingle between us. I feel his fingers as they caress my lower back, and he watches me, waiting for me to make the next move.
“I like being in your arms…” I say quietly, almost scared to say the words out loud, feeling vulnerable but wanting to be with him as the space between us grows smaller.
“Good, because I like having my hands on your body.” His other hand wraps around my waist, now firmly holding me to him. My breathing is rapid, my breasts pushing against his chest, and I run my hands up his arms, wanting to feel him too. I feel the ridges of his arm muscles before I rest my hands at the back of his neck, almost on my tiptoes as I try and get closer to him.
My eyes search his, and he leans forward, putting his forehead against mine.
“You look like you are wearing a crown,” I whisper, my eyes not leaving his. My heart thumps a million beats a minute, my body hot all over.
