Creed
I don’t knowwhy I’m so nervous. Hopefully, it doesn’t show. With the steaks seasoned and prepped for the grill, everything’s in place. When my doorbell rings, I chalk it up to perfect timing.
I give myself a once over before answering, smoothing my dark hair into place. This isn’t something I normally do; in fact, I’ve never cooked for a woman before in my life.
I’m nearly blown over when I answer the door. Melody’s wearing a tight pair of jeans that cling to her curvy hips and a red blouse that shows off just enough of her cleavage to make me beg for more. I swallow back the desire to forgo dinner altogether and throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the bedroom, caveman style.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, wishing I would’ve worn something other than my standard jeans and a black t-shirt.
“This old thing?” She teases.
“You’re not wearing your glasses.” I hold the door open, and she brushes past me, smelling like pure heaven.
She hands me a bottle of red wine and bats her lashes. “You noticed.”
How could I not? I notice everything about Melody. From the tiny freckle on the side of her nose to the way her hips sway when she walks, I’ve been memorizing her since the second I handed her cat back.
“How’s Esme?” I close the door. “Does she miss me?”
“It’s literally all she talks about.”
“What can I say?” I’m walking on clouds right now with Melody here, so much so that I remember that the steaks need to go on the grill. “Want to watch me cook?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She smiles, and I wonder if her cherry red gloss tastes as good as it looks.
She climbs up on the counter stool, and I get down two wine glasses. “Didn't you say that you don’t really drink?”
“Oh, I don’t.” She shakes her lustrous honey blonde hair. “But I couldn’t come over empty-handed.” She leans forward as though telling me a secret. “If I’m being honest, I don’t even like red wine.”
I let out a loud, booming laugh. If that’s not the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. “Well then, we won’t drink it.”
“When I do drink, I have a one beer limit.”
“Well.” Now it’s my turn to lean in. “Lucky for you, I have exactly one beer for you and one beer for me.”
“Aren’t you just a regular Boy Scout? I’ll save it for dinner. Can I just get a glass of water first?”
Oh Melody, I’ll give you anything you want.
“Sure thing.”
Dinner goes off without a hitch. It feels so good to talk to someone about things, and it’s equally good to have someone to listen to. I don’t think I realized how lonely my life had become when I decided to turn over a new leaf. I hang on every word that comes out of Melody’s full, pouty mouth. If ever there were a more perfect woman for me, I’ve never met her.
“So you’ve written how many books?”
“Eighteen,” she says, bringing her napkin to her lips.
“That’s insane.”
“Not really.” She rolls her big, brown eyes. “Once the first few books were written it was easy…well, until this one.”
“What changed?”
“I moved here because I vacationed here a few years ago and fell in love with this town, not fully understanding that I’d be alone—like all alone.”
“That must be kind of tough.”
“It is, and it totally freaked me out. So, I started holing up, and before I knew it, I barely left the house at all. Then, when I tried to write this latest book, I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t figure out the plot, but the truth is that I stopped socializing. I need people and stimulation to keep my brain fresh.” Melody lets out a long exhale. “Does that even make sense?”