by Burton, Jaci
She had a point. She’d been dreading this all week, thinking of all the things she could be doing instead of something frivolous like a night out. But her mother was right. She did deserve a little fun. And what harm could it do? She already knew she wasn’t going to get involved with Kal. They’d been down that road once, and she wasn’t going there again with him. So they’d have dinner, a nice conversation, and that would be it.
“You’re right. I do deserve it. And thank you for watching Oliver for me.”
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me. Besides, I’m already here, aren’t I?”
“But you don’t have to do it.”
Her mother walked over and grasped her by the upper arms. “Stop trying to act as if this is a burden for me. I love having you and Oliver here. I’ve been lonely in this big house by myself. Oliver and I are going to have dinner, he’s going to help me do some puzzles, we’ll play some of those idiotic video games that make my eyes cross, then we’ll watch movies.”
She laughed. “Okay. Thanks, Mom. I won’t be late.”
“Oh, please, do be late. Go sit in his car and make out for a while.”
Her eyes widened. “Mom.”
Her mother laughed. “Have fun, Hannah.”
She shook her head and grabbed her keys, then walked out the door.
Make out in his car? No, they were going to have dinner. That’s all she was going to do with Kal Donovan.
And then she was going to come home to her son, where she belonged.
CHAPTER 6
HANNAH PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF KAL’S HOUSE and turned off the engine.
Kal had told her to meet him at his place. She assumed that was so they could take one car to whatever restaurant they were going to.
Nice house. Two stories, big yard, in a perfect neighborhood. The house was older, but looked as if it had been freshly painted, and had cute shutters on the front windows.
The kind of house she’d always wanted. She had once hoped that someday she and Landon could save up for a house just like this. Maybe have a couple more kids.
Ha. That dream died in the dust.
And what exactly was she doing here? Dreaming again? Of what? She’d long ago given up on dreams of some Prince Charming coming along. She knew now the only way to make her dreams come true was to make them happen herself. Yet here she was, having been talked into having dinner with Kal.
Granted, he was charming, for sure. But she wasn’t in need of rescue.
She was stalling and she knew it. And why? This wasn’t a romance. Sure, Kal was hot as hell, and maybe she had spent the week looking forward to seeing him. At least during those times when she wasn’t dreading seeing him.
Conflicted much, Hannah?
She really needed to make a decision and stick with it, one way or another. This was the problem with dating in general. The whole emotional aspect of it. Who had time for that? She certainly didn’t.
Then again, when was the last time she’d had an adult conversation with an intelligent, smoking-hot man who was attracted to her? And, even better, who wasn’t a stranger? They had a history together. Something to build on.
If she was interested in building something.
Was she? Good question. But either way, she was having dinner tonight. And some relaxation time with good company. Didn’t she deserve that?
Hell yes she did.
“Way to make an easy night complicated as hell, Hannah.”
She walked over to the door and rang the bell.
She heard footsteps, and Kal answered the door, looking delicious in dark board shorts and a white T-shirt.
Should her heart be racing like this? What the hell. He’s a firefighter. He knows CPR. In the meantime, it would be good to remind herself to breathe.
“Hey,” he said. “Come on in.”
She stepped inside and followed him through a living area and into a brightly lit kitchen that was much more modern than the outside of the house. The kitchen was spacious, with amazing appliances and beautiful countertops. She couldn’t get over all this space.
“This is lovely,” she said. “So you and your brothers did this?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.”
She inhaled. “And what’s that incredible smell?”
“Ziti pasta with meatballs in sauce on the side because you said you don’t eat a lot of meat.”
He remembered. That was sweet. “Oh. Who’s making dinner?”
He smiled. “I am. For you.”
Her heart did a tumble. “Really? So we’re having dinner here?”
“I thought it would be better than sitting in a noisy restaurant.” He went over to the fridge. “Beer or wine? I’ve got both. I’ve got a rosé and a sauvignon blanc in the fridge, or if you want red I’ve got a pinot noir in the cabinet.”
He made dinner. For her.
She absolutely would not swoon.
“I’d love the pinot noir.”
“Sure.” He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator for himself, then pulled the bottle out of the cabinet.
After pouring the red, he handed her the glass.
“Thanks. This is an awful lot of work for you.”
He took a seat at the island next to her. “What is?”
“Cooking.”
“I had the day off. You didn’t. And I like to cook.”
He liked to cook? That was new. “Since when? Because you didn’t cook in high school.”
“I had other things on my mind in high school. Sports. Hanging out with my friends. You.”
She felt that flutter all through her nerve endings. “So when did the cooking thing come to life?”
“College and after, when my mom wasn’t around to cook for me. And once you become a firefighter, you’re on shift for twenty-four hours. It’s not like they have a chef at the fire station. They teach you right away that one of the duties you share in is cooking, and you damn well better not suck at it. My parents were both great about teaching all of us boys to cook decent meals.”
“Good for them. It’s nice to have guys who know how to fix something other than a burger on the grill.”
His lips curved. “I can do that, too. And a steak. And anything else that goes on the grill.”
“Of course you can. But not tonight.”
“No, I figured you might want something a little homier.”
“Hey, I gave up my mom’s homemade enchiladas to be here with you.”
He leaned back. “And you didn’t cancel our date to stay home and eat? Because I’ve had your mom’s enchiladas. I still remember how good they are.”
“Trust me. I considered it. Mom wouldn’t let me cancel.”
He took a swallow of beer, then smiled at her. “Remind me to thank your mom. I’m glad you came.”
She picked up her glass and took a sip. It was a good pinot, smooth and mellow. She took another swallow, then set the glass down and looked around. “So where’s your brother and his fiancée?”
“He was going to pick her up after work tonight, then they were going out to dinner and to check out a wedding venue and a band.”
“So they want a live band for the wedding?”
“They’re thinking about it, but they’re still undecided. They picked a date, though.”
“And when’s the big day?”
“July next year.”
“That doesn’t give them much time to put a wedding together.”
“Oh, trust me. Becks is organized and so is Jackson. They’ll get it done. She’s already been dress shopping, they’ve got the caterer nailed down, and next week they’ve got an appointment with the cake person.”
“Mmm, I love cake.”
“Do you? I didn’t think about dessert. I can whip up a cake.”
She swirled her finger around the rim of her glass, trying to figure out just who Kal was now. He cooked, and he was telling her he baked, too? “Just like that?
”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a three-tiered piece of art or anything. But sure.”
“I might just let you do that. Just to watch the master at work.”
He slanted a look at her. “Funny. I’m not Martha Stewart. I just throw shit in a bowl, mix it up, toss it in a pan and see what comes out.”
“Now I have to see this.”
“Okay, then. Let’s make a cake. We’ve got about thirty minutes before the food comes out of the oven. Plenty of time.”
He scrolled through his phone, settled on a recipe, then started compiling ingredients.
“What can I do to help?” Hannah asked.
“Grab the hand mixer from the cabinet down there.” He motioned with his hand to the location, so she crouched down and found the hand mixer and plugged it in. By then he already had the ingredients in the bowl and started mixing them together.
“What else?”
He pulled his attention from the phone. “You can set the table. Dishes are in the cabinet left of the sink. Utensils right here.”
He motioned again, and she was happy that he wasn’t treating her like a guest. She grabbed plates and utensils and carried those over to the table.
They worked together on the cake. By the time he finished mixing, she had the parchment paper lining the cake pan. He poured the mix in just as the oven timer beeped. He pulled the pasta and meatballs out before adjusting the oven temp and sliding the cake batter in.
“Okay,” he said after he put the bowl in the sink and ran some water. “Let’s eat.”
They carried the food over to the table, and Kal went to the refrigerator and brought out a salad he’d also made, along with some dressing.
She scooped some of the pasta onto her plate, along with one meatball, because it looked so good she had to taste it.
“Having a meatball, huh?”
“Hey, I said I limit the meat in my diet, not that I don’t eat any. And these meatballs look amazing.”
He added Parmesan cheese to both their plates, then Hannah slid her fork into the pasta. It was creamy and flavorful. She tried the meatball next, and her taste buds did a happy dance.
“This is delicious,” she said.
“Glad you like it.”
The salad was really good, too. The whole meal had been a surprise. Kal was a great cook.
“You must coax a lot of women over here with the promise of a home-cooked meal.”
He arched a brow. “I don’t bring a lot of women over here. I only cook for the special ones.”
“Okay. So only a few.”
“Or one.” He gave her a pointed look.
And now she felt very special.
When the timer went off for the cake, Kal went over and pulled it out of the oven and onto a cooling rack. Then he came back to the table.
“Once that cools, we’ll frost it.”
“Sounds fun.”
“You probably expected me to take you out to dinner. I hope you weren’t disappointed.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing tonight.” And she meant it. This night had been perfect so far. And Kal? She was constantly surprised by him. He had a maturity to him that knocked her backward.
Given the man that she’d divorced had been offended at the thought of becoming an adult, being with Kal was utterly refreshing.
She took a sip of her wine and looked over at Kal. He was gorgeous. Sexy as hell, actually. Held an important job in his community, putting his life on the line to keep people safe.
He’d been incredibly sweet to her since the moment they’d reconnected. Every word out of his mouth caused her senses to go haywire.
Plus he cooked, too.
Damn. Who would have guessed that could be so hot? When he was busy eating, she watched his hands. They were . . . large. Which of course meant nothing, and they’d had sex before, and . . .
Well. Maybe large hands did mean something after all.
This sudden awakening of her libido was not convenient.
But as he looked up from his plate and his gaze met hers, she realized there wasn’t much she could do about her body’s reaction to him. They shared a past, and now her present was very much mixed up with said past.
And wow, did it suddenly get hot in here.
“Mind if I fix myself a glass of ice water?” she asked.
“I’ll get it.” He stood, and she couldn’t help but admire his extremely fine ass as he walked away.
Yes, she was in very deep trouble. Because she’d only had one glass of wine, was definitely sober and was most assuredly fantasizing about getting her hands—and her body—all over Kal.
Deep, deep trouble. Because she had responsibilities and no time for a hot fling with an old boyfriend.
KAL FIGURED TONIGHT WAS GOING BETTER THAN HE ANTICIPATED. Hannah seemed relaxed, she liked the food he fixed and she was giving him some damn hot looks.
Which might mean nothing. Then again, it might mean something. Either way, things were looking good.
After dinner they did the dishes together. Now it was time to frost the cake he’d made. Since he’d made a simple yellow cake, he figured it needed chocolate buttercream frosting.
He’d gotten out all the ingredients and beat them until the concoction was sweet and creamy.
“I’ll frost it,” Hannah said.
He knew she wanted to help, so he handed the spatula over to her. “Sure.”
She applied the frosting with expertise, and when she was finished, Kal reached into the cabinet and pulled out multicolored sprinkles. Hannah’s eyes sparkled with delight.
“It’s not even my birthday,” she teased.
“No, but since it’s only one layer, it needs something extra.”
She leaned against him. “You’re something extra.”
He laughed. “Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”
She was so close he could breathe in her sweet scent.
“Definitely a compliment.”
She lingered there, making him throb with the need to plant his mouth on hers, to taste her lips, to slide his tongue between them until they were both lost. It had been so long since he’d kissed her, so many years he ached with the need to touch her. But he also knew she was wary and needed some time. So he took a step back and focused instead on putting the sprinkles on the cake.
But he’d really wanted to kiss her. And when he heard her sigh of disappointment, he realized he might have missed the opportunity.
Damn.
“It looks amazing,” she said.
“You ready for a piece?”
She laid her hand over her stomach. “I’m still full from dinner. I think I need to digest a little first.”
“How about a walk?”
“Excellent idea.”
It was a nice night. Not humid or too hot, with a little breeze. A perfect evening for a stroll. They took a long walk around the neighborhood, talking about their jobs. He asked her about her day, and she filled him in on what it was like to own the salon.
“It’s a lot of work. I not only do hair and have to grow and maintain my own clientele, but I have to hire stylists and manicurists, do advertising, keep the books and make sure the shop meets code and stays clean.”
Listening to her talk, Kal knew she wasn’t complaining. She enjoyed what she did.
“You love being your own boss.”
She smiled. “I do. When I first started out, I spent years working for other people. I hated it and swore that as soon as I could I’d buy my own salon. So I saved and saved until an opportunity came along to start up a place of my own in Georgia.”
They rounded the corner by the park, several blocks from the house. It was well lit, and there were always people doing nightly walks there. Kal waved to some of the people strolling by. “How long did you have the place in Georgia?”
“About a year before my divorce. I had just gotten to the point where it was full, running efficiently, and then I had to sell i
t.”
“I’m sorry. That had to hurt.”
“It did. But fortunately, it was in a great location and the new owner snapped it up right away for a good price. Plus selling the house in Georgia and splitting the equity with Landon gave me enough money to open the shop here.”
“That’s a good thing. Other than the divorce, of course. I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not. Getting out of that marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He could tell she bore some bitterness about her ex, but he wasn’t sure she was ready to open up to him about it. “You want to talk about it?”
She looked over at him. “My ex? He’s a nice enough guy, but he’s a child. And I already had one kid. I didn’t need another who was supposed to be acting like an adult.”
When he gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. “It’s a really long story. I’m sure you’re not interested.”
He stopped to make sure she could see that she had his attention. “I’m interested.”
She started walking again, so he got back in step with her. She didn’t talk right away, not for about a block. He figured maybe she wasn’t going to open up to him. But then she began.
“We got married too young. I was ready to get out of Ft. Lauderdale, and Landon was my ticket out. He had big ideas about opening his own place. He’s a mechanic. He had cousins in Peachtree City in Georgia, and they were going to go into business together and open an auto repair shop. Big plans, big ideas. It all sounded perfect.”
“But?”
“They started one business, and it did okay for about a year. I thought that was going to be it. That he’d have the success he’d talked about. But he and his cousins couldn’t agree on one single thing, and they fought all the time. On the mechanical side, they were all great. As businessmen, they sucked, so the business failed. Landon decided to go out on his own, start up his own shop. But again, he had a great head for mechanics and he completely ignored the business side, so that venture failed, too. And so it went. Landon always had big plans, big ideas. Maybe buy a franchise, that would work out better. Or start something completely new. We argued all the time about finances. And nothing ever came of all his big ideas. So he’d pick up odd jobs—when he actually worked. In the meantime, I had my business going and I was constantly working. And he often wasn’t. But there was always ‘I’ve got this great new idea’ while I’m working twelve hours a day and trying to take care of a baby. By the time Oliver was four, I knew I was finished. It just took me another couple of years to extricate myself from the marriage.”