“What are you doing?” I ask when he sets the groceries on the kitchen counter.
“You didn’t want to go out for tacos, so I brought the tacos to you.” He winks. “I promised tacos, so they’re coming your way, and you can bet your ass that they’re better than anything you’d get at a restaurant.”
Shit. Fingers crossed he’s not expecting me to help him.
We’ll be eating grilled cheese by the end of the night. Burned grilled cheese.
I watch him while he digs out the groceries and starts moving around my kitchen as if he were my roommate. He sifts through the cabinets before pulling out pans and bowls.
“You know how to cook?” I stupidly ask.
He cuts open the hamburger, drops it in the pan, and turns a burner on low. “I’m a single dad.”
“Good point,” I mutter.
This soon-to-be mom had better take some notes. Takeout has always been my main food group, but that doesn’t mean I eat like shit. I get healthy takeout—at least, I did before, but there’s not a big market for that here.
“I cook dinner every night. Come over and eat anytime you want.”
That’s a big hell no. Any appetite I build up will be lost when I step into his house, and the memories of his freak-out flood me.
I take in my T-shirt and pull at the bottom. “I wish you had told me you were coming over.”
He snags a cutting board and starts cutting the bell peppers. I slide into his spot, pushing him away and causing him to grin, and take his place. I start slicing the peppers, the simplest task for me to take over, without saying a word.
“You would’ve bailed,” he replies.
“No, I wouldn’t have.” That’s the truth. I bailed on going out to dinner but would’ve been up for his company. “I would’ve made myself not look like a train wreck.”
“You look gorgeous.” He nods toward my belly. “You’ve been hiding it well. Anyone know about the twins yet?”
I shake my head. “You spill the beans to anyone?”
“I’m waiting for you to give me the green light. You do know, we have to tell everyone sooner or later, right?”
“I do, but why does it feel like it’s shock after shock? Guess what?” The knife waves through the air when I dramatically throw my arms up. “I’m pregnant. Guess what? It’s with twins!”
“Put the knife down, Mike Myers.” He laughs while peeling an avocado and then mashing it in a bowl. “You realize, life is full of surprises as you get older. You grow wisdom with age.”
I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Appreciate the insight, old man.”
“Whoa, who are you calling old?” He smirks and bumps his hip against mine. “You want to be on dish duty tonight?”
I slide the peppers off the board and into a glass bowl. The lettuce is my next victim. “I’m calling you an old man.”
“Sweetheart, we’re six years apart.”
“Six years is a long time. You were in kindergarten, learning how to write your ABCs, when I was born.”
“You seemed to find this old man attractive enough to sleep with.”
“Eh, let’s blame it on the alcohol.”
“I’ll keep waiting for you to admit it.”
I drop the knife. “Admit what?”
“Admit this so-called old man made you feel better than any boy you’ve been with your age.” He rests the spatula on the stove, and his eyes fix on me. “You lose a taco for every lie you tell, so I’d suggest you stick with the truth if you have an appetite.”
Fucking tacos.
Are they worth honesty?
My stomach growls.
Hell yes.
“I don’t have much to compare since I’ve slept with only two men. Brett cared about pleasing me in the beginning.” I sigh. “That changed in the end. He’d get off, slap my ass, thank me, and then go back to his video games.”
“Shit, you dated a fucking loser,” he grumbles. “LA is saturated with men, and you stuck around with him? I never understood that.”
“That’s what everyone says.”
“Why’d you stay with him then?”
“I don’t know. Convenience?”
“That’s a piss-poor excuse to stay in a relationship.”
“You’re telling me, you’ve never stayed with someone because starting over sounded too rough?” My voice is filled with defensiveness. I’m not alone on this.
“Fuck no. I’d never be with someone I didn’t love. I stayed with Lucy for so long because my life would’ve been a nightmare without her. I loved her more than my own air. I would’ve given my life for her, taken her cancer, given her my health.”
“It might not be with Lucy, but you’re doing it now.” I shift around him and go to the fridge for a bottle of water.
My response really catches his attention.
“What was that?”
I take a drink and slowly swallow it while he stares at me in confusion.
“Nothing,” I mutter. I place my water on the counter and go back to my chopping duty.
He plucks the knife from my hand. “Not so fast. Tell me what you mean.”
Here goes nothing. “You’re doing the same thing!”
He raises a questioning brow and reaches back to turn the stove off.
“You’ve accepted being alone because the thought of starting over without Lucy seems too rough. Convenience.”
My eyes pierce his, and I wait for him to turn around and leave me with a half-cooked dinner. I should feel guilty about what I said, but I don’t.
His shoulders draw back while he takes a pained breath. “She was my wife. You’re not supposed to get over the love of your life.”
My mention of Lucy has put a damper on taco night, but it needed to be said. His answer will tell me if last night was just sex or if he’s ready to open his heart and try something with me.
“I’m not saying you have to get over her but more of coming to terms that she’s gone. I stayed with Brett because the thought of something new scared the living shit out of me, and you’re doing the same. Don’t throw stones at glass houses.”
He wipes his hands down his jeans. “How’d you do it then?”
The fact that he’s still standing here shocks me. “Do what?”
“Let your heart move on.”
“It wasn’t easy. It was one of the hardest decisions I’d ever made.”
His jaw twitches, and his eyes are downcast on me. I suck in a breath. “I’m trying, trust me. I’m fucking trying for you.” We’re so close, I can feel his heart beating against my chest. “You’ve opened up what I feared for months. It doesn’t seem as fucking scary, exploring with you.”
I point my fork at my plate. “This is delicious.” Screw those fancy taco joints. Dallas Barnes kills anything they serve. “Seriously, the best guacamole I’ve ever had.”
He showed me how to make it step by step. I’m in charge of taco night next time.
“Told you I knew my way around a kitchen,” he says proudly and then takes a drink of water.