“You mean other than pure shock?”
She nodded. “On my end, it felt like you were looking for any reason to get out of it.”
“No,” I said immediately. “That’s not what I was thinking. I was making sure the timing was right, and then figuring out what I should do. In bad words, ofcourse.”
Grace hummed, eyeing me for one more second and then looking back down at the food. “You know, I keep thinking I have your whole personality pinned down. And then you do nice things and I realize I’m wrong.”
“What did you think about me? Before, I mean.”
“That you were a playboy running from responsibility.”
“I can handle responsibilities.”
“It’s attachment you can’t,” she said.
“Nowyou get it.”
“I want you to know that I respect that you don’t do attachment, but you also need to know that that’s the opposite of how I am. We don’t have to be together, but we have to besomethinghere. We’ll have to get to know each other.”
“Right,” I said. “I’ll ... work on that.”
“We can start with the basics,” she said. “Just general things, and work our way up.”
I knew she was right, but the uncomfortable pressure in my chest told me this was a bad idea. I knew I would be tempted to let her get deeper than anyone else had been before.
“Just basics. That’s a good start.” That was the best answer I could give, even if it wasn’t entirely truthful.
She smiled and continued flipping tortillas. A few minutes later, the last one was done.
“We’re ready to eat,” she said as she turned to grab plates. “What would you like on yours? I have salsa, sour cream, cheese, and a bunch of other things.”
“I’ll have all of it, but I’m making my own plate.”
She turned and frowned at me like she’d never heard that before. “You’re my guest.”
“And I’m a grown-ass man,” I said. “I don’t need you to serve me.”
She blinked, her cheeks darkening as if she didn’t expect that kind of answer from me. But it was the truth. I didn’t wantanyone to serve me, nor did I want her bending over backward to make sure I got what I wanted.
I had a feeling she would try.
I went to the fridge and got out all of the toppings. Grace had an iron grip on the plates, but I got my own and made it.
There was a dining room right off the kitchen. It had at least six seats. It could fit more.
“This is a good house for raising a kid,” I said.
“I’m lucky,” she replied. “Mom left it to me. It felt fuller when Brooke and I were kids here, though.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Yeah, I imagine it won’t be as quiet when there’s a kid running around.”
She looked over the house as if she were imagining it. I was tempted to do the same thing. Instead, I took a bite of my food. Flavor like I’d never known exploded on my tongue. It was spicy with a hint of sweetness. The meat was perfectly seasoned, and the tortilla tasted different than any I’d ever had from a store.
“Holyshit,” I said. “This is fucking incredible. I should marry you right now over this.”
“Marriage again? You’re gonna have to get your priorities straight. You just told me you didn’t do relationships.” I froze. I’d said it as a joke. But then she laughed. “I know what you meant, Dean. And I take it as the highest compliment. It’s not every day that I meet someone that doesn’t know that I can cook.”