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Rebecca twirls once, then curtsies.
My cock jerks. I cough into my fist and try not to think about her toes anymore. So, I change the topic of conversation. "Ready for dinner?"
"Yes, I'm starving. But we have a small problem." She points a finger at me. "You were supposed to bring the food."
"Oh, aye, that's right. And I did bring it." I trot to the door and swing it open just enough that I can pick up the paper sack I'd left in the hall. As I kick the door shut and return to Rebecca, I hold up the sack. "Everything we need is in here. I brought the ingredients. Now the cooking is up to you, though I'm happy to be your assistant."
"Thank you. I would love to have a gorgeous man in a kilt do my bidding."
"I'll do your bidding anytime, anywhere."
Rebecca gives me a sly smile, then hurries to the other side of the island. I follow the lass and set the bag of groceries on the counter. She immediately begins to remove the items and sort them, studying each one. I watch with fascination as she sets the items out in some sort of order, though I can't deduce her reasoning. Dinnae give a toss about reason. This woman has turned my world upside down in all the best ways, and I would let her do anything she wants as long as she doesn't tell me to bugger off.
She handles most of the cooking and issues orders for me. Neither of us knows where anything should go in this kitchen. She's only lived here for a week. The apartment was meant to come with kitchen utensils, fortunately, so I need only hunt about until I find the right ones. We get into a rhythm as we collaborate on the meal, and we tease each other often, making us both laugh. I haven't had this much fun in the kitchen since I was a wee laddie serving as my ma's helper.
I won't tell Rebecca that, not just yet. We need to get to know each other better before I start regaling the lass with tales of my family.
Rebecca is clearly impressed when I offer to set the table. I find a half-empty box of candles under the kitchen sink as well as holders for them, so I set those up on the table too. Rebecca has just finished the final touches for the meal, and she smiles appreciatively at what I've done.
Aye, I also moved the table closer to the windows. We will have a grand view of Loch Linnhe and the mountains. Rebecca insists that I must sit down and wait for her to bring the food. I cannae deny the lass anything she wants. When she finally takes her seat across the table from me, I pour wine for us both.
Our date has officially begun.
We might have enjoyed a swiftly rising physical attraction on the day we met, but that doesn't translate to an immediate conversational attraction. No, we struggle with awkwardness and discuss the merits of the food and the wine rather than talking about each other. Why have we suddenly become uncomfortable? It must be nerves, though I have never suffered from that problem. I'm feeling it now, though. Maybe we're struggling because of the simple fact that we had a poke on the day we met, and it was bloody incredible. The pressure to reinvigorate our attraction is palpable.
And it's killing the romance of this evening.
Rebecca picks at her food while staring down at her plate. When she takes a sip of wine, she still keeps her head down.
I know how to seduce a woman, for pity's sake. But it's been a very long time since I did that. Dinnae fuck this up, man. She was putty in your hands a few nights ago.
Aye, I can do this. And I'll start by relocating.
That means I drag my chair around to the side of the table, close to where Rebecca sits.
Her head jerks up. Her eyes go wide.
I clasp her hand. "Dinnae need to be so far apart, do we? This is meant to be a romantic dinner. We have candlelight, but no conversation and no music. Let me rectify the situation."
"Thane---"
I seal two fingers over her lips. "Hush, lass. We need to deepen the mood with sensual music and sensual conversation. Stay right where you are."
The moment I pull my fingers away, her lips fall open a wee bit. She watches me as I wander over to the island, where I had seen her leave her mobile. When I caught her singing along with the music coming through her earbuds, I'd noticed she was listening via her mobile phone. But when I'd been in her apartment a few nights ago, she had a small stereo system. Now, I realize it has Bluetooth capability. That must be how she listens when she's at home. I use her mobile to connect to the stereo and start up the music.
I sit down beside her again as the first song begins to play.
The hard-driving beat at first seems incongruous with romance, but I soon realize it's precisely what we need.
Rebecca rocks her hips in time with the music. She casts sidelong glances toward me. "Do you like this song?"
"Aye. Let's get up and dance."
"What?"
"You heard me." I stand up and hold out my hand. "Dance with me, love. Right now."
She bites the corner of her lip. "This isn't a slow song."
