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At 6:27, a knock at the door startles me, and I jump off the couch. I had been rereading the same page in my book for the last ten minutes, and I don’t remember any of the words I read. I sling the door and there stands Andrew. He definitely put some extra effort into tonight, just like I did, and that’s a relief. He’s wearing dark wash jeans with a pearl snap button down flannel. (Not the one I dumped coffee on.) Instead of his usual baseball cap, his jet black hair is combed and slicked back. He smells woodsy and squeaky clean and I just want to breathe him in.
“You look beautiful,” He says softly.
“Thanks. I hope you’re hungry.” Looking back towards the kitchen.
He smirks. “Starving.”
For some reason, I’m not entirely sure he’s talking food.
* * *
After we finish eating, I refill our margarita glasses and then get to work on cleaning up the kitchen. As I fill the sink, Andrew immediately jumps up to rinse plates and loads them in the dishwasher alongside me. “You don’t have to do that.” I say.
“You did all the cooking. I can at least rinse a few dishes.” He says with a smile. “That was fantastic. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”
“Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.” I say, taking another drink of my margarita.
“These are good too.” He laughs, picking up his own glass. “Maybe too good.” He says with a pause.
The way he’s looking at me sends a shiver down my spine.
“You got a lot of painting done today.” He observes, as he takes his glass and moves back towards the dining room. He pauses in front of the wall of shelves next to the dining table. “You like to read?”
“Like is a bit of an understatement.” I laugh. “If reading were a sport, I’d be an Olympic athlete.” I run my finger across several of the book spines on the shelf.
“Quite a collection you have here.” He says, admiring the wall full of books. “Almost enough for a library or a bookstore.”
I smirk. “Most of these actually belonged to Hazel. I didn’t have a lot of space to collect many books at my last house.” I pause. “It’s funny you say that though. When I was a kid, I used to dream about owning my own bookstore.”
He raises a brow. “Is that still your dream?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I shrug. “In a perfect world, I think it would be fun to own a cute little bookstore downtown, but I’m afraid bookstores are a dying breed. It could never be profitable and surely not enough to support me.”
He smiles softly. “I bet you could do anything you put your mind to. You’re a determined woman, and I think you could make it work.” With that, he reaches out and squeezes my hand. I melt immediately.
How can he have so much faith in someone he doesn’t really know?
“Hey,” Andrew interrupts my train of thought. “What do you think about going over to my place and lighting up the fire pit? It’s full of branches I picked up all over the yard and I need to get them burned up before I leave.”
The mention of him leaving sends a wave of sadness over me, but I try to quickly bury it. This is not the time to get emotional. We’re just having a good time. I remind myself. “Sure. That sounds fun.” I agree, relieved that he isn’t ready for this night to end either.
We step through the privacy fence into his backyard and he uses his phone as a flashlight to lead the way. I take a seat on the patio sofa and he quickly gets to work on starting the fire. Once the flames are going, he steps through the backdoor of the house and comes back with a woven blanket. I look up at him just as he lays it across my lap and I feel my stomach flutter.
“Just in case you get chilly.” He whispers, his words cause goosebumps to rise on my arms. He settles in close to me and puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close.
I share the blanket with him, extending it over his lap, and we sit in a comfortable silence for a long time, sipping the rest of our drinks and watching the orange and yellow flames. I finish my drink and place the glass on the ground and he follows suit. His hand slides across my thigh and squeezes my hand gently. I must admit that I like all of this, especially the simplicity and the calm. I love that he and I just sit here without phones and books and televisions. Just as I look up to him to offer him a gentle smile, he moves in for another kiss.
What starts as slow, light kisses quickly builds into a faster rhythm. Once our mouths meet, it’s like we can’t get enough of each other. And like last night, it’s like we’ve been doing this for years. I don’t want him to quit and from what I can tell, neither does he.
When we finally come up for air, he leans his forehead against mine and whispers, “Hold on for one second, okay?” He picks up the blanket that has since fallen onto the ground and lays it in the grass near the now roaring fire.
Gently, he tugs my hand and pulls me towards him. Suddenly, I find myself straddling his waist as we go back to fueling the hunger that is burning inside of us. Just as he slides his calloused hands under the hem of my tank top, my phone rings.
I let out an exasperated sigh and throw my head back. “Dammit.” I mutter softly.
I stand from my position on the ground and grab my phone from the arm of the patio couch. The display tells me it’s Avery.
“Hey. What’s up?” I ask into the receiver.
