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I move over to the oven, removing the potatoes and steak. Once they’re on the stove top, I add a healthy amount of both to a plate.
“Why is your salad so good?” Ryder asks. “I usually don’t like it this much.”
“It’s probably because you didn’t have to make it yourself. I always like my mom’s cooking better than mine,” I say, moving toward him. When I set his dinner down in front of him, he groans.
“I can already taste this.” He picks up the steak knife and cuts into the ribeye. “You cooked it perfectly,” he says when he sees the pink center.
I smile at him. “Isn’t this what I’m here for? Were you expecting shoddy meals?”
He takes a bite of the steak, chewing slowly. His eyes roll back and he lets out another deep groan. It’s sexy as fuck. Spinning around, I scurry back to shut off the oven and take care of anything that will keep me on this side of the room.
“Bacon and cheese potatoes,” he says with awe.
“Yep, they’re twice baked,” I explain, wiping down the counter.
“That must mean twice as fucking good, because these are my new favorite,” he says.
Smiling, I scrub at an imaginary spot on the counter to keep me busy. I’m happy he’s enjoying his meal so much. It makes me feel proud, and it’s also a wonderful boost to my self-confidence.
“Calista, did you hear me?” he asks, and I nod. “Turn around,” he orders.
His growly tone takes me by surprise, and I whirl toward him with my eyes widened. “I heard you,” I say.
“I know, but I want to make sure you really fucking hear me, so I’m going to say it again. Everything about this meal is perfection. You cook like an angel… and you look like one too,” he adds in a softer tone. He knows as well as I do he shouldn’t be saying things like that. Maybe he’s struggling to keep the lines in place as much as I am.
“Thank you, Ryder. I’m thrilled you’re enjoying it so much. That’s my ultimate goal with every meal I prepare for others.”
“You’re going to be a huge success,” he tells me. His compliment fills my chest with so much happiness, I could float on thin air.
“Your confidence in me means a lot. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I really enjoyed this weekend, and if you ever need someone to cater a party, give me a call.”
“I’m not a big party thrower, but that might have to change. Any excuse to taste your food again would be worth the hassle of having people over.”
While he finishes eating, I wash the pans and put them away. Earlier this afternoon I packed up everything I had brought and didn’t need to use while preparing dinner, so the few remaining items are easily loaded into my bags.
Ryder carries his plate to the sink and holds up his hand before I take more than a couple of steps toward him. “I’ll take care of washing this. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you. I’ll start loading this stuff into my minivan,” I say, grabbing a couple of bags.
He shakes his head. “I’ll carry them out for you.”
“There’s a lot of them.” I cast the explanation over my shoulder on my way out of the kitchen. I haven’t even made it to my vehicle yet when he’s beside me, carrying all the remaining bags. And just like two days ago, the power of his bulging biceps isn’t lost on me. But after getting to know who Ryder is beneath the striking exterior, everything about him is more attractive. He’s an all-around impressive man, one I’d love to get to know better. But since that’s not going to happen, I’ll have to settle for saying goodbye.
After everything is loaded into the back of my minivan, I close the hatch and glance at Ryder. “This weekend was a lot of fun. Thank you for bidding on my donation,” I say, doing my best to keep things professional. “It’s been great meeting you.”
“I know we’re both trying not to cross a line, and that as much as I want to kiss you, I can’t. But I’m sure we can do better than some curt goodbye.” He draws me into an embrace, holding me close. One of my arms wraps around his waist and the other slides between our upper bodies. I press my hand over his heart, feeling the rapid beat under my palm. He’s as affected by this moment as I am. And why does knowing this make me feel like crying?
One of his hands covers mine, holding it in place as our embrace continues on. Neither of us wants to be the one to draw back, but I force myself to be the necessary voice of reason by stepping backward. “I better get going. I’ve got a lot to do to be ready for work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to take care of too,” he says, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his shorts.
“Thanks again, Ryder. You have a beautiful home, and what you’ve created here for all your animals is wonderful.”
“Thank you for feeding me so well. My stomach may never be satisfied again,” he says, rubbing his hand over his chiseled abs.
I laugh and say, “Sorry, not sorry,” as I walk to the driver’s side. I aim a final glance in his direction, shuttering my emotions away so he can’t see how torn up I am about leaving. At the start of the weekend, I never imagined there’d be a possibility for me to feel so deeply for him after such a short time. And now, I don’t know how I’m going to forget about him.
But I need to.
