Chapter 21

 

 

 

Afton

 

 

Mortified.

That’s not a word I use often, but dammit, that’s what I felt when I saw the apron tied around Luke.

I should have checked the label on the bag before I left the store earlier. Instead, in my rush, I’d grabbed it, thanked the woman at the counter, and ran out of there.

I wanted to get home to shower and change clothes before Luke arrived. That, in itself, was a production. The shower was soothing and relaxing, but I tried on almost everything I own when it came time to choose something to wear.

Then I scolded myself.

Luke is in love with his ex-girlfriend. He’s here because he wants a cooking lesson, not a hook-up. Once I reminded myself of that, I tugged on my favorite pair of denim cut-offs and put on a blouse that I bought last summer.

I tied my still wet hair into a ponytail, applied a bit of makeup, and that was that.

“I think Marti is going to be impressed with this,” Luke says after he takes a bite of the dish we prepared together. “It tastes better this time.”

He’s right.

The addition of fresh basil was his idea. He spotted my herb planter outside the kitchen window, so he darted into my bedroom to go out to the patio to grab some.

I was grateful that I’d taken the time to shove all of the clothes I’d tried on back into my closet.

“It’s delicious,” I affirm with a nod of my chin. “You were a perfect student.”

That lures a smile to his full lips. “I have to thank my teacher for that.”

Bowing my head, I fight off the urge to smile too. I’ve never been a flirt, but this feels like we’re edging toward that.

I can’t forget that the man is nursing a broken heart.

“Tell me about your work,” he says in a deep tone. “I’m fascinated by the fact that you wear so many hats.”

I playfully tug on the end of my ponytail. “I’m not sure I wear any hats. I think I lucked out in some ways. I learned a little about a lot of different things, and so far, it’s working out for me.”

He leans back on the stool he’s sitting on. “I think you’re brilliant.”

Resting my elbow on the island, I purse my lips. “You do?”

“Being a firefighter is pretty straightforward. You learn what you need to in order to do the job well.”

“Firefighting and what I do are very different things,” I point out before I pop another piece of sauce-covered carrot into my mouth.

He watches intently as I chew. “You’re right, but you have a few irons in the fire, and from where I’m sitting, you’re acing all of it.”

“You’ve only seen me cook this one dish.” I tap the side of the plate in front of me.

“I’ve looked at your website a few times,” he admits, turning to face me directly. “Your portfolio showcases your technical talent, but your clients’ comments say a lot more about the type of businesswoman you are.”

It was Joel’s idea to ask a few clients for their thoughts on the projects we completed for them. Their recommendations were overwhelmingly positive. Joel was the one who chose what quotes to post online.

When I first read through them, I was overcome with emotion. I felt that even though I’d taken an unconventional path to get there, I had finally found the place I belonged career-wise.

“I work with a lot of great people.”

“I hope you’ll add my grandmother to that list.” His brows perch. “I passed along your number to her. She’ll be in contact soon to discuss the updated images for her website.”

I’m always thrilled when I know a new client is just on the horizon, but this feels special. “I’m looking forward to it.”

We linger there, staring at each other in silence until Luke breaks it when he clears his throat. “I made a hell of a mess. It’s time for me to clean up.”

I brush that away with a wave of my hand toward the disaster that is my kitchen. “I’ll handle it.”

“No.” He pushes to stand. “The first rule in the firehouse kitchen is to clean up the fucking mess.”

I jump to my feet. “I’m not a fireman, but I’d wager a bet that the person who does the cooking is spared the cleaning duties.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he glares down his nose at me. “How the hell do you know that?”

I tap the middle of my forehead with my index finger. “I’d say it’s intuition, but it’s a lucky guess.”

“A lucky guess?” He steps around the stool he was just sitting on to move closer to me. “Let’s see if you’re on a roll. Guess what I’m thinking right now?”

That you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?

I keep that to myself and instead go for something more obvious. “That you’re glad you came over tonight.”

His eyes catch mine. “Very glad.”

The intensity in his gaze sets me back a full step. “I’ll help you load the dishwasher.”

“No way.” He reaches to grab my hand. “You’ll sit while I clean.”

“You might be the world’s most perfect man,” I blurt out.

The corners of his lips edge up toward a smile.

Dear God.

Looking as good as he does should be illegal.

“I’m not perfect,” he says in a low tone. “I’m just doing the best I can with what I have.”

He turns to head toward the kitchen sink giving me a perfect view of the back of him. From where I’m sitting, Luke has everything any woman, including me, could ever want.