“Yeah, but…” I trailed off, sipping my beer. We had been more than just a passing boyfriend, girlfriend thing. We’d made future plans, confessed our love. Hell, I’d met his mother. And I still didn’t know.
Chase shrugged a shoulder as he scraped the onions off into the bowl with the meat. “It’s not a big deal, Eden. She didn’t really talk about it with us. I guarantee that most of the women at her supper club never knew either.”
I thought that over as I drank my beer. As much as we knew about each other, there was still a lot that we didn’t know. It made me sad and confused.
As I watched Chase assemble dinner, I thought back with a smile to the few times he’d cooked for me before. “You know, this isn’t the first time you’ve cooked for me on this island.”
He looked over at me with a smile, stirring the spicy mix of meat and veggies. “I remember. When we came over here for the day on Spring Break and pitched a tent on the beach. These are better surroundings though.”
I laughed. “No doubt. Although, I admit that camping on the beach was pretty romantic. Until we got caught.”
Chase chuckled. “The guy who busted us just retired from the sheriff’s department here last year.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth, laughing. “Seriously? Did he remember you?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh no,” I said, laughing.
“He was cool about it. You know, gave me that elbow nudge, wink thing.” He mimicked the motion, which made me laugh harder.
“Oh, that’s classic.” I sipped my beer. “But I will say though, this food smells better than what you cooked back then.”
He laid a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You mean, you didn’t enjoy my grilled mystery meat on a stick?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yuck. Well, I’m lying. I did enjoy it back then. But I think our palates are a little more refined these days.”
“Definitely,” he said with a grin. “At least, in some areas.” His eyes were full of heat and made my skin flush. I didn’t know what to make of that comment or the look he gave me. Or the change in his attitude toward me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are you being so nice to me? Where’s Chasey McGrumpypants?”
He stopped midstir and turned to me. “Did you just call me Chasey McGrumpypants?”
“That’s my new nickname for you.”
“You make me sound like a Sesame Street character,” he grumbled.
I shrugged. “If the shoe fits.” I pointed at him. “But hey, it sounds like he’s coming back. Whew.” I mimicked wiping sweat from my brow. “I thought I’d lost him there for a minute.”
He rolled his eyes and lowered the heat under the pan. “It’s like you said. This isn’t the scenario either of us wanted, but it’s what we have. There’s no reason to make this any harder than it has to be. I’m trying. Okay?”
“Okay.”
It was quiet between us for a few moments while the food popped in the pan, its heavenly scent filling the kitchen. I watched him continue to prep our meal and started to feel useless.
“Hey,” I said, sliding off the stool, “I need to do something, so I’ll get the plates and silverware ready.”
He nodded and gave the mixture another stir. “It’s just about ready.”
I tried to push down the feelings of domesticity that whipped through me. I had to remember we weren’t a couple and this wasn’t a nightly thing. But damned if it didn’t feel amazing on a level I didn’t understand.
We worked together in the kitchen, moving around each other like a dance and yet giving each other enough space that we never got too close. I didn’t know about Chase, but mine was by design. Too close to him for too long and I’d want him to fuck me on the granite countertops until I forgot why I was here in the first place.
And by too long, I meant two minutes.
With steaming plates full of food and our beers, we moved into the informal dining room. I called it that in my head because the table was much smaller—though it still could seat six grown men with elbow room to spare—than the monstrosity of a table in the separate room off the kitchen.
The smells of the seared skirt steak with peppers and onions made my stomach growl, reminding me that my breakfast was long gone. We sat, and it took me no time at all to start shoveling it in. “Oh my God,” I said around a hot bite of food. “This is amazing.” I put my hand over my mouth and swallowed. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”
