Page 86 of That First Flight
Then I notice smoke coming from the oven.
“What… in the world… is happening right now?”
He jumps at my voice as if he didn’t hear me come in. “Oh good. You’re home.”
“What are you making?” I ask, stepping foot into the kitchen as I circle the island and notice the crumbs and disaster everywhere. It looks like a tornado ripped through here. “Or killing?”
“Well…” A nervous chuckle escapes him. “I don’t have a damn clue.”
Is he… nervous?
My eyes move from him and back to the counter. I can’t even begin to try to put the pieces of this puzzle together to figure out what recipe this is all supposed to be.
I notice the very expensive KitchenAid mixer is out and I laugh.
“What were you doing with this KitchenAid?”
Oliver scurries to a cookbook he has placed on a different countertop. Licking his finger tip before flipping the pages aggressively like he knows exactly what he’s looking for. “Something about whipped potatoes.”
God damn potatoes. I can’t escape them tonight.
“I really love potatoes,” he rambles. “And you know what a good potato pairs well with?” Oliver stops himself, finger to the lip as if he’s trying to remember what he’s doing.
This is a whole new light I’m seeing Oliver in and I truly can’t wipe the smile off my face. It’s hysterical watching him move around the kitchen and attempt to figure anything out. It’s adorable how nervous he seems.
“The bacon! Shit.” He runs to the oven. The second he opens the door, smoke pours out. “I burnt the bacon,” he deadpans.
Now I’m curled over, hands on my knees, laughing.
He said that with such a serious face, not an ounce of panic or emotions.
“Stop laughing. I burnt bacon, Macey! This is a tragedy of epic proportions.”
That only makes me laugh harder. Oliver moves quickly to slide open the window above the sink to air out the room in an effort to avoid the smoke detectors going off, waving a used dishrag around the kitchen to force the smoke outside.
He attempts to scurry past me, and I stop him with two hands to his broad chest.
“Oliver!’
He stills and his eyes meet mine. I watch his body visibly relax in front of me.
I offer him a smile. “Tell me what’s happening here.”
Oliver releases a long drawn out sigh. “I was trying to teach myself how to cook.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me to teach you?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Why?” I ask hesitantly.
“Because…” He takes a step to me, closing any distance that was left between us. “I wanted to learn how to do the thing you love to do the most.”
This man has been taking pieces of my heart over the last few weeks. Little by little, breaking through every invisible wall I’ve built up to protect myself from any more hurt in my life.
“If you haven’t picked up on it by now… I kinda like you, Macey Evans.”
I think Oliver just took all of my heart for the keeping.