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A small smile reappeared. “Thank you, Dane. For everything. How can I ever make it up to you?”
His heart started to pound.
This could be his chance to ask.
But hadn’t he already decided it wouldn’t be the best time for her?
Yep, he had.
“A plate of your lasagna right about now would be great.”
She giggled and sat up. “Now that you mention it I’m hungry myself. Let’s go have a late-night snack.”
He followed her out of the room. He wasn’t about to pass on food. But he also wanted to continue to care for her, so when they entered the kitchen, he pointed toward the dining room.
“You sit. I’ll get everything for us.”
“You shouldn’t spoil me so much.” An appreciative smile adorned her sleepy face. But she didn’t argue with him and walked back out.
It didn’t take him long to grab two plates and heat up the lasagna. Even reheated, it smelled divine.
They ate in comfortable silence, obviously both very hungry. His fork clanged against the plate after he had scooped his last bite into his mouth.
Rubbing his hand over his stomach, he smiled in her direction. “Best lasagna I ever had.”
“Oh, stop. I'm sure your mother makes better lasagna than me. I suck at cooking.” Gabriella rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe him.
He chuckled. “My mom doesn’t cook. But even Francis’s lasagna is not this good. I swear.”
She tilted her head, confusion littering her eyes. “Your mom doesn’t cook? Who’s Francis?”
Over the course of their short dating period, they’d kind of glossed over the family talk. At least, on his part. She already knew what she needed to know about his family. It was messed up.
She was a bit more forthcoming about her family life. He knew she had one younger brother who had followed in her footsteps and was a beat cop. Her parents were divorced. Her father still lived in New York City, working as an accountant. Her mother had moved to Florida and worked at a beachside shop. She said her mother was sort of a free spirit and went wherever the wind took her. Before Florida, she lived in Connecticut, Georgia, and Alabama. She wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow made her way to the west coast and started going up and down the states in that area.
“He’s their cook. I’ve never seen my mom even pick up a pot and put it on the stove.”
“I forget your dad owns the company you work for. It never occurred to me they’d have a cook.” She leaned forward and put her hand under her chin and rested her elbow on the table. “What’s your favorite meal by Francis?”
Yeah, his father could afford anything and everything he could want. Hell, Dane had enough money to live in luxury if he so chooses. Money was always there—it wasn’t something he thought about. Since they had started dating, he hadn’t displayed his wealth. They usually picked up takeout and brought it back to Gabriella’s. Their night usually ended in bed. If they were feeling extra frisky, they didn’t even make it to her bedroom before having the most intense sex of his life. Every. Single. Time.
He should be spoiling her more. It had never occurred to him, and now he felt like a cad.
“His chocolate chip cookies are the best. I usually devour way too many of them.”
The most brilliant smile lit up her face. “You need to snatch some for me the next time you visit if he makes them. I love chocolate chip cookies.”
Wow.
Another perfect opportunity for him to ask her to accompany him to supper this weekend.
“I definitely will.”
And for some reason, he was still a chickenshit about it. He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.
“So…” Gabriella started.
“So…” he repeated, cocking a brow.
