“It’s all ready if you’d like to sit down,” Meredith said, gesturing to the barstools. “Sorry I don’t have a table. I don’t have guests over much.”
Cruz liked that, and he found himself easing in close to her. He was staring down into her perfect face and smelling an intriguing mix of peaches and cream. He didn’t think the scent had anything to do with food, but it had his mouth watering all the same.
“I’m your first male dinner guest?” he asked, hoping.
Meredith’s eyes flashed dangerously at him. “Don’t gloat about it, Cruz Chadwick. Men ask me out, but there aren’t a lot of serious dating options in Mystical Lake.”
Cruz’s lips twitched. “Is this a date?” he asked, unable to resist brushing that dark hair away from her neck so he could feel exactly how smooth that rich brown skin was.
Meredith pulled in a quick breath. She was so beautiful and appealing. He was a moment away from bending down and kissing that smooth neck and then those perfect, full lips of hers.
“No,” she said. “Friends, remember?”
Friends. Hmm. He’d see. It was high time he dredged up some of that confidence he always pretended to have and his sister’s vote that he was worthy of Meredith. It was time to see what could happen between them. If he prayed hard, would Meredith never notice that he was a fraud who despised his own mother?
“Sit,” she all but demanded.
Cruz complied, pulling out a high-backed barstool for her first, waiting while she sat, and then sitting himself. He reached out a hand and loved that she didn’t have a choice but to put hers in it. He believed in prayer and was really grateful for it right now.
“My turn?” he asked, as if they prayed together regularly.
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
Cruz bowed his head and felt warmth pulsing through him from her hand in his. “Thank you, Lord, for this delicious food and the perfect, soft, beautiful hands that made it.” He squeezed her hand and smiled as she let out a disgruntled breath. “Please help us to remember thee and thy son, to be humble and grateful. And please bless Meredith to find it in her heart to see that dating me would be a superb idea. Amen.”
He’d done it. He’d put himself out there, and she would have to respond to his heartfelt prayer.
Meredith didn’t echo the amen. She pulled her hand free and pushed platters of grilled chicken topped with bacon and cheese, sautéed veggies, salad, and homemade rolls. “Guests first,” she said.
“Ladies first,” he insisted, disappointment rolling through him that she hadn’t even acknowledged his prayer.
“Oh, my.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you realize I don’t fight with anyone but you?”
He smiled and angled in his barstool to look at her more fully. “Is this fighting?”
“What do you call it?” She folded her trim arms over her chest, but then she must’ve realized she had her apron on. She stood, untied it, and slipped it over her head.
Cruz stared up at her. She was so beautiful.
She sat back down and asked again, “What do you call it?”
His gaze trailed over her face. “Stimulating,” he murmured. “Exciting. Thrilling.”
She huffed. “You do crazy tricks every day of your life. Bantering with me cannot be thrilling.”
“Oh, but it is.” He loved his work, challenging himself, and the thrill of his tricks, but nothing felt as exciting and intriguing as these moments with Meredith were shaping up to be. Forget the delicious-smelling food. He wanted to convince her he wasn’t a player, dispel any lies Josh had told her last night, and kiss the rest of the night away.
She scooped up some veggies and put them on her plate. “Start with whatever’s closest to you,” she muttered. “It’s getting cold.”
Cruz obeyed, fighting another sting of disappointment. He didn’t want to waste the food she’d worked hard to prepare, and he was hungry after a long day on the lake. He’d tease her into dating him after dinner. With other women, that would be about a ten second conversation. With Meredith, it could take weeks. He looked forward to the challenge and the time spent with her. Could he truly think he was the right man for Meredith Francis? It was mind-boggling to be sure, but Cat had been pretty adamant about it, and she knew them both better than anybody. He should forget that his mom had always told him he’d never amount to anything. That was years ago, and logically, he knew his mom was simply a mean bully. Look at all he’d accomplished, and now he was sitting here with Meredith. It was incredible.
He took generous portions of everything but the salad, sampled the chicken first, and moaned with delight. The flavorful chicken was moist, and the bacon and cheese gave it a savory taste he loved. The veggies were delicious as well, but it was the rolls that blew him away. They were crusty and buttery, yet fluffy and tender, on the inside.
“Oh, my,” he moaned. “That is incredible. It doesn’t even need butter.” He took another bite, chewing and swallowing as slowly as he could.
“Thank you,” Meredith murmured. Her dark skin didn’t reveal she was blushing, but he thought she might be. She concentrated on cutting a bite of the tender chicken.
“You should sell these at your shop. They’re even better than your brownies, and that’s really saying something since I’ve never tasted a brownie as good as yours.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I make plenty of baked goods to sell at my shop. The rolls are best when they’re warm, and I only make them for …” Her voice lowered, and she concentrated out the open windows at the view of the forest. “Special occasions.”
“So, I’m a special occasion?” he asked, his chest puffing out.
“Oh, my, just eat please.” She focused on her food.
Cruz smiled but obeyed, taking second helpings of everything and complimenting her over and over again. “Tell me about your day,” he requested.
“It was busy, but I love serving treats to a crowd. Ice cream makes everybody happy.”
“That is definitely true. Plus, your customers get to see your beautiful smile.” He ate another bite of broccoli and regarded her. When she didn’t respond to his comment, he continued, “I never figured in high school that you’d start your own treat and ice cream shop.”
“What did you think I’d do?” She looked at him with those big, dark eyes, and it was as if he’d fallen into a happy existence where only he and Meredith lived. The thought of leaving Mystical Lake and Meredith was suddenly a sharp pain. It startled him. He’d all-out sprinted from Mystical Lake at eighteen, intent on escaping his mom’s scorn and proving to her he could succeed.
He focused on the conversation. “That’s easy. You were so smart I thought you’d go to law school, run a Fortune 500 company, or become a politician.”
She stared at him, not appearing to take his words as a compliment. “I’m too introverted to run a company or be a politician.”
“You may have been quiet in high school, but you weren’t introverted. Everybody liked you, and now you run a business where you talk to hundreds of people every day.”
“Mostly superficial conversations,” she said. “None of them expect me to have something brilliant to say.”