He lifted the bag by the handles. "I brought food. I'm going to make you dinner."
"At nine at night?"
"It'll take twenty minutes, tops. Then, I'll clean up and you can get some rest."
That was incredibly sweet, but I didn't want him to do things like this because he felt obligated now that he knew I was pregnant.
"J.J., you don't have to do this."
"Do what?"
"Feel obligated to take care of me," I answered, shutting my car door.
The headlights went off before he spoke, leaving us in the dark and me unable to see his face clearly.
"Why do you think I feel obligated?"
"Because I'm pregnant!"
Crud, I hadn't meant to yell.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," I said.
"How many times did I ask you to go to dinner or for coffee or anything at all after Cam's wedding?"
Several. He'd made it clear he wanted to see me again and often.
"A few," I answered.
"I don't feel like I have to do this. If anything, I'm hoping you feel obligated to let me spend time with you."
I gaped at him. "What? Why?"
He walked closer, which set off my motion sensor lights. I could see his face now, and he was wearing his stubborn expression.
"Because I didn't want a one-night stand, Lee. I wanted to know you. I wanted to spend time with you, and you shot me down. Now, I have a second chance and I'm not going to fuck it up."
I sighed when he swore but didn't say anything about it because that wasn't the issue right now. "How do you always know exactly the right thing to say to get me to do what you want?"
He grinned at me. "You forget, I've known you for years. I've seen exactly how your mind works."
"I always thought you didn't notice me all that much. You were nicer than my brothers' other friends, but still..."
"Well, I was a teenager, so you'll have to excuse some of my obliviousness."
The light went off again, leaving us in the dark.
"So, can I make you dinner and thus show off my culinary prowess and impress you enough to let me do it again?" he asked.
I laughed. "I suppose it sounds better than the cheese, crackers, and fruit I was planning on having."
"Another reason I came with food. You've lost weight." He raised a hand when I started to speak and the light came back on, revealing his face once again. He was smiling. "I know that's common for a lot of women if they have morning sickness, but please don't blame me for worrying."
There he went again. Saying all the right things. Doing all the right things.
"Let's go inside. I'm hungry." He moved past me toward the house, waiting at the base of the steps for me to unlock the back door.
As soon as we were in the kitchen, I glanced down at my clothes. I had splotches of ice cream on my shirt and the bottoms of my jeans. I was also a bit sweaty from running around all day.
"Do you need any help?" I asked him.
He glanced at me. "Nope. Why don't you put your feet up and pretend you're impressed with my mediocre cooking skills."
I laughed and fingered a sticky stain on the bottom edge of my tee. "Actually, I'm gonna jump in the shower if you don't need me to show you where everything is."
J.J. waved me away. "I'll figure it out. Go clean up. Get comfortable."
I left him rattling around in my kitchen, humming under his breath as I walked back to my bedroom. I stared longingly at my bed, but my stomach growled, so I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I ate something anyway.
I'd also found that eating a satisfying dinner the night before helped the nausea when I woke up. It was just nice that I didn't have to cook tonight.
With one more glance at my bed, I went into the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, put my hair up in a bun on top of my head, and jumped in the shower. The hot water loosened the muscles in my neck and back. I wanted to stay there until it ran cold, but the knowledge that J.J. was waiting on me in the kitchen kept me moving.
Within ten minutes, I was clean and dressed in a loose pair of light cotton pants and a t-shirt. My waist was definitely getting bigger, so I found myself reaching for elastic waist shorts and pants and swingy sundresses more often than not.
I didn't know how I would afford to buy maternity clothes when the time came because all my money was likely going to pay for my medical bills.
Maybe I could find some things at the Goodwill one town over.
I walked out of my bedroom and was immediately assailed by the scent of cooking meats, herbs, spices, and vegetables. My stomach growled again.
My steps quickened as I came down the hall and walked into the kitchen to find J.J. making enough food to feed a small army.
I bit back a laugh and managed to hide my amusement before he turned around.
"Hey! Just in time. Dinner will be ready in five minutes."
I glanced at the sheet pan in front of him, which was covered with raw vegetables that he was tossing with oil and seasoning.
"Are we having crudité?" I asked.
"Crudawhat?"
"Raw veggies?"
He grinned and shook his head. "No. You mentioned you barely have time to cook while you're in school, so I'm meal prepping a few dinners for you for next week. They're sort of like TV dinners, only healthier."
"Wow." My throat closed up, so I had to clear it before I continued. "That's so sweet of you, Jay. You didn't have to do that."
He shrugged. "I do this every Sunday night for myself. I've got it down to a science now." He gestured to the sheet pan. "It's just some roasted vegetables and grilled chicken, but it's good for you and you don't have to worry about making it or cleaning up for a few days."
No one but my mother had tried to take care of me before. My brothers usually pretended they were helpless so I would do stuff for them, which worked when I was a kid. Now, they just begged because they knew I was onto them. That usually worked too because it was really annoying.
"I think you're the first person other than my mother or grandmother that's cooked for me before," I finally said when the silence between us went on too long.
"I should say that's sad but the competitive part of me is very happy."
I had to laugh. Darn it, why did he always say the right thing?
He'd set the table with my plain white dishes, basic silverware, and paper napkins from my pantry. There was even a small flower centerpiece in a short vase. And votive candles flickering. It looked romantic and inviting. Like this wasn't any weeknight dinner, but a dinner. A special occasion.
There had to be a catch.
I'd known him long enough to know that he wasn't perfect, but right now I was struggling to remember a single one of his flaws.
Maybe his penis had given me brain damage. Or carrying his baby. Because I could clearly remember at least two occasions when I was in middle school that he'd driven me nuts because he left his humongous basketball shoes on the floor right in front of my bedroom door when he came over to play video games with Scott.
Or the time he'd tickled me until I'd nearly peed on myself. When I was fourteen, which was more than old enough to hold my bladder.