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"Nothing. I know you have been out working all day. Sit down and keep me company." She nods to the stool at the kitchen island.
Taking a seat at the table, I watch Jenna bustle around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and mixing them together with ease. She's always been a natural in the kitchen, a talent she inherited from her mother.
As she works, it’s interesting how at home she is in my kitchen. This isn't the first time she's been here, just the first time she's been here alone. Though I can't shake the feeling of how much I really like her being here in my space and cooking for me. Nor do I want to because it seems right.
My mind starts to wonder what it would be like to come in from a long day like today and walk into the house to find her cooking for me. Being able to go to her, hold her in my arms, and kiss her. Maybe even have her join me in the shower.
"Did you like the garlic bread I made for you last time?" she asks, breaking me out of my daydream.
"The one with the Italian seasoning and cheese? Yes, very much."
"Perfect, I will make it again." She pulls a loaf of bread from one of the bags.
As Jenna slices the bread, I notice the way her fingers move with precision and grace, working the knife like an artist with a paintbrush. She catches me staring and gives me a small smile, her hazel eyes locking with mine.
All this time, I keep thinking about how good she looks, how much I want to touch her, to kiss her. When she turns to grab a pot from the pantry, I get a glimpse of the curve of her ass.
My thoughts quickly become more explicit, imagining all the things I would like to do to her in the heat of the moment. How badly I want to push her up against the counter and feel her pressed to me again.
Instead, I quickly shake my head, trying to clear my mind of these erotic thoughts. I can't let myself be consumed by this attraction.
"So, how have you been?" I ask, needing to focus on something more mundane to distract myself.
"Alright. I went with my brothers to look at a ranch yesterday. They liked it but the seller was asking double per acre than anyone else in the area. They put in a fair market value offer and were turned down immediately. Asher says the wife is probably making him sell, but he doesn't want to," she shrugs.
I make a note to go visit my neighbor Willy. He was talking about possibly selling last time we talked but made it clear he won't be selling to the land developers that are sniffing around town. But I don't want to get Jenna or her brothers’ hopes up, so I’m not going to say anything until I talk to him.
"They will find the right place eventually."
I get up and start setting the table as she pulls the lasagna out of the oven.
Jenna places the lasagna on the table, and the smell of the hot, cheesy dish fills the room. We both sit down and start to eat, the conversation picking up again.
"Wow, this is amazing. Better than I remember," I say between bites.
She might think I'm just saying that, but I'm not. She is an amazing cook and going to make some lucky bastard a great wife. It just can't be me. During dinner, we don’t run out of things to talk about. Everything from our favorite TV shows to what is going on at my ranch.
She shares some of the town gossip, which is more fun than it should be.
"You know Mr. Perkin's wife caught him walking around the house wearing her black heels? The way she was going on and on, you'd have thought Satan himself made an appearance. She has been praying nonstop. They had to kick her out of church the other night so they could close up."
"Oh man, he's my banker," l say laughing. In order to try to get that image from my mind, I shake my head.
"Mr. Owen's wife ran off with some male stripper she met on her last trip to Las Vegas. Apparently, they went for their anniversary, and both agreed the other could hire a stripper. Now Mr. Owen is on a rampage about how men don't need to be in the stripper business and how they pray on lonely old women.” She giggles as she relates the gossip.
"Yet, if he had been paying attention to her, she wouldn't have been lonely. I also know he's been sleeping with his secretary on the side," I tell her. “Did you know that he’s the slime lawyer who has been working with the property developers no one wants in town?”
"The entire town knows. It's why Mrs. Owen was so eager to get some action of her own. Now he's complaining how she's getting half of everything, saying the stripper will leave her and take half of her half," Jenna adds.
I watch her as she talks, and it doesn't go unnoticed by me how easy she is to talk to and how natural having dinner and catching up with her is. She is smiling down at her plate and when she looks up, our eyes meet.
The intensity in her gaze is enough to make my heart skip a beat, causing me to lose track of the conversation. She smiles shyly at me, and there’s no way I could do anything else, but smile at her too.
She sets her fork down and takes a deep breath. "Why do you keep fighting this?"
Not accusing, but genuinely wanting an answer. I could sit here and play dumb, but she's too smart for that. Plus, she deserves an answer. After everything, I at least owe her that.
"Because your father is my best friend, and I can't do that to him."
