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“We were going to, but with my brother in a bear of a mood, I thought it would be safer to try somewhere else,” he says. He ushers me into a parking garage.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to surprise you,” he tells me, and he flips me a wink before walking up to his car and holding the passenger door open.
“I have things I need to do this afternoon,” I say. And I don’t step in.
“I won’t keep you out late, Olivia... unless you want me to.” Ugh, I guess there’s no more point in arguing.
“Fine.” I climb in and wait for him to go around to the driver’s side.
He revs his fancy little car, and heads away from the city. The farther we go, the more nervous I become. When we turn off the freeway and near what appears to be a gated community, my stomach dips.
“I want to show you my home, not just my cabin,” he says as he pulls up, enters a code, and begins driving down a long fancy road into a gated community. It takes a moment for me to realize it isn’t a gated community. It’s one estate,hisestate.
“I’m not so sure about this,” I tell him. I’m nervous. Incredibly nervous.
“There’s nothing to worry about. I thought it would be nice to show you my great view of the water,” he says. He pulls into a massive garage attached to a house that makes the wordmansionsound pitiful.
“I’m sure you have the best view. Isn’t that your style?” I say with a bit of scorn. He looks at me questioningly but doesn’t comment.
I need to tone it back a little. I’m used to him opening car doors, so I wait until he comes around to my side and take his hand as he helps me out. We step into a hallway that leads to an enormous kitchen. A kitchen with the dream equipment of every chef in the world, professional or wannabe.
“Do you cook more than steaks on a grill?” I ask, a little in awe.
“I’m a fantastic cook, which is why we’re here. How do lobster rolls and chowder sound?”
My stomach rumbles at the words. “Fantastic.”
“Do you want the tour first, or are you more interested in food?”
“I don’t need a tour,” I tell him. I pull away and walk over to the adjoining dining room, where large windows show off the excellent view he boasted about. “Impressive,” I have to confess.
“It’s why I bought the property. I love the water. Go on it every chance I get. Maybe after lunch I can talk you into a boat ride.”
“It’s a bit chilly today,” I say. I’d love to take a boat ride, but I remind myself I’m not actually dating this man. It’s all for payback. Why has the idea of exacting revenge somehow lost its appeal? Am I going soft?
“Seattle weather turns on a dime. Let’s have a bit to eat and see how it feels after. Let me make you a drink. You can either come into the kitchen and watch me work or enjoy the deck.”
He makes an iced green tea with an alcoholic twist, which is both refreshing and has enough kick to help my nerves. I want so much to sit in the kitchen and watch him. But I want it far too much, so I decide to wander to the deck, if only to save my sanity. The cool breeze sends me back inside, though. Nope. No boating any time in the near future.
Sitting at the large kitchen island, I watch as Tyler plays an impressive chef.
“Do you want to eat here or in the dining room?”
“Here’s fine. I like this island. I’ve never seen one quite so large.”
“I like big things; I’ve got a lot of them,” he says as he sets a plate and bowl before me.
I’m praying what he’s whipped up won’t be delicious, because Tyler doesn’t need anything else to make himseemeven more perfect. But my first bite into the lobster roll ruins this hope. Yummmm.
“Okay, I don’t want to admit it, but you know how to cook,” I tell him as I wipe the corner of my mouth with a linen napkin.
“I get tired of going out, so about ten years ago, I bought a dozen cookbooks and took some classes to teach me. I caught on fast. Some people like to do it, some don’t. I find cooking enjoyable. Calming, in fact.”
“A lot of men wouldn’t admit to that, Tyler.”
“Hey! The best cooks in the world are men,” he tells me with a wink. “Like Gordon Ramsay.”
