I fall asleep on the drive home. Vance has the grand idea to scare me during the middle of a dream, and I definitely almost pee myself. I instinctively slap his arm as he’s cackling like a hyena. Chase drops us off and informs Vance--after being asked--that he’s going to stay in and relax at home. I hop out of the truck and skip off,knowing that he'll be with me.
I take a relaxing shower, scrub all the lake crud off of me, and wonder what he could possibly be planning tonight. Will we go out or stay in? The thought of staying in sounds very appealing and the butterflies form low in my belly. I feel flushed as I finish standing under the stream of hot water--I turn the knob--and dry off. The nerves stay with me as I get ready and become even worse as I’m driving Mom’s car to Chase’s. I pull into the driveway that leads to the large white house and park off towards the far side. Chase instructed me to since then Mom’s car won’t be visible from the street. I am so nervous I could vomit. The feeling is such a drastic change from earlier this afternoon.
I take a couple deep breaths before stepping out of the car, leaving its much-appreciated warmth. I dressed casually, but still cute; I have no idea what we’re doing. I nervously shuffle towards the front door, glancing around the house. The door swings open as I move up the porch and Chase appears, wearing a knit sweater with some faded jeans. He looks amazing. He smiles at the sight of me, and I can't help but mirror it back. He moves forward, wrapping me up in his strong arms. He smells like fresh laundry, and I breathe him in.
"Finally," he whispers, and my insides melt. I shiver as he pulls away. "Let's get you inside." His hand moves to grab mine, and he pulls me along with him.
"Are your parents home?" The butterflies are flapping wildly in my stomach.
"No.” He closes the door behind me, and I take in the massive foyer.
"I don't think I've ever seen your house," I admit, “It’s beautiful.”
"It's not that special. It's just a house."
"So, what’s on the agenda tonight?" I ask him, the curiosity getting the best of me.
"Are you hungry?"
"Famished."
"Good. I made dinner."
"You cooked?"
"Yeah. Don’t get too excited, it's nothing extravagant." He pulls me deeper into the house--towards the back--where a large white kitchen comes into view. It's gorgeous, but he doesn't stop there. He continues into another room, right off the kitchen, that’s adorned with a large oak table and a crystal chandelier hanging above it. It's...lavish. I notice the two-place settings are set across from another at the left end. He moves me to the seat that faces the kitchen opening and puts on a show by pulling out my chair for me.
"Wow. Chase, this is beautiful," I say, almost at a loss for words. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I just hope the food is edible. I'll be right back."
He moves out of the room and returns a moment later with two plates filled with baked ziti. He places them down at each setting. First thing I notice is the amount of cheese on the top, then the two meatballs off to the side. Amazing. "I have garlic bread. Do you like garlic bread?" He asks in a rush. He is so cute.
"Yes," I tell him and watch him leave the room again, returning with a tray and a pitcher of, what looks like, lemonade. He sets them both on the table between us, then takes his seat across from me.
"This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," I falter, almost becoming emotional.
"Get used to it. You deserve everything good."
I can't help but stare at him. There is a beautiful man sitting across from me, who’s made me dinner--just because. He provokes things in me that I never thought possible. In the very short time that we've spent together he’s managed to make me feel special, cherished, bold, and brave. I am so full of gratitude that I don't even hesitate on my next move. I push my chair back, stand up and move around the table to him. His eyes are following my every step. He pushes his chair back and allows me to climb into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, laying my head on his shoulder. His arms encase me.
"Aren't you hungry?" he questions.
"Yes, but I don't think I have words to express how much this means." I kiss his neck and as I notice his breath hitch slightly, I do it again--and again. I’m kissing my way up to his jawline when he moves his head to capture my lips with his. It starts sweet until he deepens the kiss with his tongue, and I happily allow its entrance. His hand moves to the back of my head, cradling it. I love this. I love the way he makes me feel by just kissing me. I whimper when he slows the kiss, removing his tongue from my mouth, and ends it with small pecks on my lips.
Small puffs of his breath flutter on my lips as he rests his forehead against mine. It’s a couple minutes until he speaks, "As much as I love this form of gratitude, we have to stop."
I pout. But, I know he's right. He pats my thigh, and I remove myself from his lap. He tugs me back for one more kiss. "Okay. Go sit."
I take my seat across from him again. I pierce a couple noodles with my fork, and make sure to get a fair amount of cheese in with them. Chase is watching as I place the food in my mouth. The burst of flavors on my tongue is surprising; it's sweet and spicy all at once. I chew, making sure not to look like a pig when I'm finished. I wipe my mouth before I speak.
"Chase, I know you said it's nothing special, but that's the best sauce I've ever tasted!"
"Really?"
"Yeah, that's no jarred sauce."
"No, it's not. It's my grandma's recipe. So are the meatballs."
"So you made them all from scratch?"
"She always says," he clears his throat and when he continues it’s in a much higher pitch, "‘Don't be lazy. You show someone you care by taking the time to cook for them, and none of that boxed crap.’"
"Smart woman," I muse.
"She is."
I am so impressed, and completely awed by him. Again.
"So, can I look forward to more tantalizing recipes created by grandma, cooked by you?"
"I think I have a better idea."
"Better?" I question, and then a thought occurs to me. "Oh! Do I get to watch while you do it?"
"Watching me would be better?"
“Definitely” I nod excitedly, "Even better if you’re shirtless."
"I'll keep that in mind." He seems to be blushing. It’s adorable. "But that's not what I was thinking."
I draw out a dramatic sigh. "Darn."
He smiles, showing me his white teeth. "I'll take you to have her cook for you herself. She'd love to meet you."
Okay, I was not expecting that. "You want me to meet your grandmother?"
"Yeah, she'll love you. She lives a couple of hours away. We can make a weekend of it."
"Okay," I say slightly dazed.
"We don't have to. It's purely selfish, really. Spend time with you and Gram's cooking…win-win."
"No. That actually sounds really nice."
We talk about his grandmother for a while, in between our bites of food, and it's really sweet how much he adores her. I learn that he spent the summers with her when he was little, and that he never got to meet his grandfather because he passed away before he was born. She never remarried. I’m curious about so much more, but don’t pry. If he wants to offer up more, he will. Plus, I hope we have more times like this to learn even more about each other.