“I said I don’t have anyone.”
I lift my eyebrows and my hands. “All right. Sorry I overstepped. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Stephanie sighs, then turns away to scratch Sadie’s ear. “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” she murmurs to my dog. “He said you don’t like that.”
Sadie whines a little, her brown eyes huge and staring up at Stephanie. She’s completely in love, I realize, a little pang of jealousy and wonder hitting my chest.
“Stew’s ready,” I tell her, hoping to cut the tension. “Why don’t you have a seat at the table and I’ll bring you a bowl.”
“Thanks,” she tells me softly, glancing my way, then heads to the round table in the small dining area beside the big picture window. Sadie follows on her heels.
I spoon up two generous bowls of stew and top them with two equally large, square pieces of hot cornbread. Carefully, I balance the bowls with spoons stuck inside them in both hands and carry them out to the table. Thoughtfully, Stephanie has pulled a couple of napkins from the holder in the middle of the table and set them at each of our places. It’s a tiny thing, but it catches my heart anyway. Beth wouldn’t have bothered. She expected to be served. And it’s not like I have anything against serving and doting on a beautiful woman I care about—that’s the standard with me. But when you start to notice a lack of appreciation after a while, that makes you want to not fucking bother.
I snap out of it and set Stephanie’s bowl in front of her. “I’d rather overfeed people than underfeed them,” I explain. “By all means, don’t feel obligated to finish all of that. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asks, spooning up her first bite. She inhales deeply. “This is the best thing I’ve ever smelled.” She takes a bite and moans, then taps the butt of her spoon on the table for emphasis. “Oh my God. So good.”
I beam with absurd pride, digging into my own bowl. “Thanks.”
“Mmm,” she coos again after another bite.
Her sex noises while eating make my cock hard, so I focus on my meal instead. And, well, not to brag or whatever, but it is pretty goddamn good. Thank you, Mrs. Morris.
“A man who cooks this good,” Stephanie says, more to herself. “How has no woman snapped you up yet?”
I splutter on my stew, then hack into my napkin. Stephanie looks up at me in alarm. I hold up my hand, struggling to get my shit together. With a sip of beer, I’m able to breathe again.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I—I assumed… Maybe I assumed too much. You do have a girlfriend.”
I shake my head, clearing my throat.
“A…wife?”
I shake my head again.
She reddens. “Oh—I guess I assumed way too much. A boyfriend, then?”
This, plus the resignation in her voice, makes me roar with laughter, which brings on more coughing. I can’t help it.
“Sorry, what’s so funny?” she asks, and now she sounds annoyed.
“I’m not gay,” I rasp. “Just single.”
“Oh.” Now she sounds relieved—and that intrigues me. “Then why did you freak out when I said that about a woman snapping you up?”
I sigh, toying with my spoon. “It caught me off guard a little. I was engaged, actually. But we broke up a couple years ago. You’re the first woman who’s been in my home since, unless you count Mrs. Morris.”
“Who’s Mrs. Morris?”
“Woman from town. She’s kind of like a mom to me.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear about your fiancée,” Stephanie says, dragging her spoon through her stew.
I shake my head, meeting her gaze across the table. “Don’t be. It was for the best. Truly. Besides, Sadie didn’t like her. And she didn’t like Sadie. How would I ever make that work?”
Stephanie nods and her lips stretch into a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “About…before. When you asked if I had someone waiting.”
“Yes?” I set my spoon in my bowl and rest my hands on the table, watching her carefully.
“I was in a relationship too. It ended about six months ago. He’s sort of the reason why I’m here.”
Puzzled, I ask, “How’s that?”
She casts her eyes down to the table. “He was always telling me about the ways in which I’m lacking—mentally, in the body department, emotionally. I’m not street-smart enough. I’m not practical. I’m not thin enough. I’m too sensitive. He really tore me down, but I never realized it—never admitted it to myself—until after we broke up. I was supposed to stay with a friend at her parents’ cabin this weekend, then she cancelled because her son got sick. I decided to come by myself anyway, even though I’ve never driven out here alone and I haven’t been to her parents’ cabin in years. I don’t remember where it is. But I wanted to prove to myself—prove to Brent—I was smart enough, brave enough to make it on my own.” She gives a little laugh that has little humor in it. “Instead I proved him right.”
Instinctively, I drop my hand over hers. “Don’t do that,” I say, shaking my head. “Don’t be mean to yourself like that. Brent sounds like a fucking loser to let go of someone like you. I just met you and apart from knowing you’re stunning because I have eyes, I can tell you’re a wonderful person.”
Her brows crinkle in doubtful amusement. “Can you? How?”
I smile softly, then incline my head at Sadie, where she lays with her head on Stephanie’s knee. “Because of Sadie. She loves you.”
Stephanie blushes, gazing down at my dog. She sets a gentle hand on top of Sadie’s head and smooths her ears back. “She’s a good girl,” Stephanie says, then looks at me. “And…thank you. For everything—the sweet words. The delicious meal. Your bed. Saving my life.” She glances out the window and shudders. “I’d still be out there, helpless, probably freezing to death, if it weren’t for you. I’m sorry I called you a serial killer and tried to kill you with your grandfather’s lamp.”
“And corrected my grammar,” I add gently.
She tips her head back and laughs. The sound is a beautiful, sweet melody. Sadie wags in response. “That too. I can be an asshole like that, sorry. I think it’s funny. Very few people agree.”
I chuckle. “You’re forgiven. With you around, I might stop sounding like some wild brute.”
She smiles at me. This time her heart-shaped face is full of mirth and her eyes sparkle. “You’re a pretty sexy wild brute.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I sure hope that’s not the bump on your head talking.”
Stephanie blushes, looking out the window. “Brent always said I sucked at flirting.”
“Not at all,” I say in a low voice, taking her hand again. “I just wanted to make sure I heard you correctly. The charms of a woman like you are bound to go over my wild, brutish head.”
She giggles softly, then withdraws her hand from underneath mine and picks up her spoon. Without looking up at me, she says, “You forgot sexy.”