Page 22 of Gary

She looked at him curiously. “Why me?”

“I happen to like you a lot and wanted to show off my culinary skills.” He gestured with his fork. “Now the cleaning up part is going to be a challenge.”

“You mean you left everything on the counter?”

“I almost did.’ He admitted ruefully. “I hate doing dishes.”

“Surprisingly, I love doing it. So, when we are finished here, just point me to where the mess is, and I will restore everything as if by magic.”

“I couldn’t. You are my guest.” He protested.

“I am going to have to insist.” she said firmly. “Call it payment for the delicious meal. You said you called your aunt.”

“I did. She is a lovely woman who did not mind being put out in the least.”

“What did you tell her?” She asked him curiously.

“That I am cooking for a beautiful young woman, and I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She wanted to know if you were good enough for me.” The minute he said the words, he wanted to bite off his tongue and from the expression on her face, he knew he was jumping ahead.

“I am sorry…”

“What did you say to that?” She asked softly, dark brown eyes holding his captive.

His heart took a slow dive inside his chest and took a while to settle. He had expected her to be offended, but she was engaging with him.

He went still as he continued to stare at her and felt the warmth seeping into his skin. “I told her it’s probably the other way around.

That I might not be good enough for you.”

They stared deeply into each other’s eyes and for a minute, the air appeared to stand still. He was about to say something else, when she reached for her glass and brought it to her mouth.

He resumed eating and was amazed that he could get the food past the blockage in his throat.

“You love her!” Sadie finally broke the silence that had stretched on for some time.

“Pardon?”

“Your aunt. You love her.”

A smile touched his lips and had her pulse leaping. The man was decidedly lethal.

“I do. She is a beautiful soul. She is my mother’s only sibling, and they were remarkably close. When I went to Italy, she welcomed me with open arms.”

“How long did you stay?”

“Five years. I left just after my mother’s funeral.”

Her expression was soft and sympathetic. “You were that badly affected.”

“I loved her.”

“And your dad?”

He picked up his wine glass and wondered if he should be getting off this topic.