Everett captured my lips in a kiss, moving so I bent back in my chair. His arm snaked around my waist and his free hand cupped my cheek while our tongues met in heated delight. I was over the moon. Tears of happiness stung my eyes. I knew I’d fallen in love with Everett the morning I woke up with him in my bed in my apartment. I knew I wanted to experience that over and over again with him. And knowing he felt the same way made my heart soar.
“Next time, warn a woman,” I said as he pulled his lips back.
Ruby giggled at us as a smile crossed Everett’s cheeks.
“How does dinner and a movie tomorrow night sound?” he asked.
“Honestly? This week is pretty rough for me. I might not be available until Friday night,” I said.
“What if I br
ought the dinner and a movie to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve cooked for me, but I haven’t cooked for you yet,” he said.
“Oh, you should make her your gumbo with that rosemary-butter rice,” Ruby said.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure he’s got it,” Kane said.
“It was only a suggestion,” she said.
I giggled and shook my head as Everett smiled broadly at me.
“I suppose if you brought it to me, then I could find a day this week to try and get out of work earlier than usual,” I said.
“How does Wednesday night sound, then?”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
TWENTY-SIX
Everett
I told Andrea to leave a key for me underneath her apartment mat and that I would be at her place around four to start cooking dinner. And I was ecstatic. I took the day off and spent it shopping and preparing, making sure I had all the ingredients and things I needed in order to make this a perfect evening for her. When I talked with her, she sounded exhausted. Kids yelled in the background. The air conditioning still on the fritz at the youth center. Her computer continuously stalling out. She deserved to come home to something nice.
So, I made sure to do it up right.
I laid out all of the ingredients for my gumbo and got to cooking, and when everything was incorporated into the pot, I started on the rice. Shrimp and chicken made their way into the dish, and while all of that was simmering, I set up the television. Andrea’s wasn’t worth a damn, which wouldn’t be suitable for us to watch a movie or two on after dinner. I switched her small television out with a flat screen I’d purchased for her, then hooked up a small DVD player so we could watch whatever movie she picked out. For dessert, I had ice cream with all sorts of toppings she could choose from, and all I had to do was wait for her to get home.
So, I decided to bide my time and do a few things for her.
I started a load of laundry and put up her clean dishes. I swept up her laminate floors and vacuumed her carpet. I did a little cleaning of her bathroom, but it didn’t need much. Just a swipe of a cloth over the surfaces that were used more than others. I got everything set up on her kitchen table before I poured us each a tall, cold glass of sweet tea. And just as I set the pitcher down onto the kitchen counter, the front door opened.
“Oh my gosh, it smells wonderful in—”
Andrea turned around as the door closed behind her and furrowed her brow.
“Did you clean?” she asked.
“I had some downtime in between cooking and preparing the kitchen table. Figured I’d get some things done,” I said.
I watched her eyes mist over before she slowly turned her gaze to me.
“You cleaned,” she said.