Page 37 of Reaching Gavin

Chapter Fourteen

I didn’t tellanyone that Gavin was coming over for dinner. My best friends’ method of cheerleading usually just left me freaking out and there was really no one else to tell. As far as I knew we weren’t advertising this around the office. I might have told George if so. My perpetually absent roommate didn’t need to know, especially since I’d promised her no boys in the apartment. Since he was cooking, that left me to obsess over all the little details. I picked up the place, which only took me five minutes given how little time Lillian actually spent here and how terrified I was of making a mess in the spartan living space. My bedroom was another story. I decided, though, that if I straightened it, I’d be asking for trouble. It was better to take it slowly—a concept I hadn’t really tried before. Instead, I scrubbed down the already clean appliances. We never cooked. Then I set the table in the dining room. I stood back, Olive the cat circling around my ankles, and thought better of that.

“Does it seem like too much?” I asked the cat. That was what my life had come to: seeking romantic advice from my roommate’s cat. She meowed as if she had opinions on the matter. “You’re probably right.”

I took everything back off the table, which was in no way an insane move or anything. Then I decided to do something I was actually good at: figure out what to wear.

The entire contents of my closet had been emptied out onto my bed as I searched for the perfect outfit. I’d changed out of my office dress the second I got home, opting for pajama bottoms and a tank top. The dress had seemed too formal as if I wanted to keep him at arm’s length and in a tiny box of professionalism. Still, I couldn’t wear the pajamas either. But what exactly was a girl supposed to wear when a guy came over to make her dinner? I could go for casual and look like this happened to me all the time. Dressing up seemed like a no go. I didn’t need to look like I was heading out to a gala. I tried on a dozen different outfits, nearly breaking down to call the girls to see if one of my friends had a suggestion.

“What do I wear?” I asked no one in particular.

Olive had been weaving in and out of the piles of clothes. She meowed loudly and settled onto a simple, floral sundress.

“Perfect!” I told her.

She looked distinctly ruffled as I picked her up and took away her chosen ensemble. “Sorry, I’m going to need that.”

I really did have to get a life if I was going to continue to have conversations with the cat. Olive jumped from the end of the bed all the way to the dresser, which was pretty impressive given that it was at least 6 feet away. She batted at the top drawer. I hadn’t caught her with my special friend in a while, but clearly she still knew where I kept Mr. Dependable.

“With any luck, I will not be needing that thing anymore,” I promised her. I wondered how Lillian would take it if I gifted her cat a vibrator.

The dress was cool and Seattle was hot. The clouds had lifted after my morning meeting with Gavin, like a good omen. But an afternoon of sun had left the condo stuffy. Since no one up here had air conditioning, a fact which the Texan in me could not fathom, the strappy cotton sundress was a welcome relief from the heat. I opened all of the windows and set out a box fan to try to clear out some of the air. I had no idea what he planned to cook, but since the kitchen didn’t get much use, I wasn’t sure how much hotter it could get.

Since Gavin was involved I was guessing a whole lot hotter. I swept my hair into a topknot that sat loosely at the crown of my head and inspected my makeup. It was still done for work, maybe a little much with my more casual outfit choice, so instead of reapplying my lipstick, I wiped it off and settled on some gloss. I’d purposely taken off my watch when I’d gotten back, so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy checking it. As such, I lost track of time, so I was surprised when I heard him knock on the door.

He was even more dressed down than on Friday night. This time he’d opted for a thin white cotton T-shirt and another pair of jeans. As much as I liked seeing him in a suit, seeing him like this was even better. Maybe because it felt clandestine. I’d gotten the boss out of his clothes. I couldn’t help but wonder who else got to see him this way. He grinned and held up the bag of groceries. “Show me the kitchen.”

I stepped to the side to let him enter and then quickly led him to the kitchen as he requested. He glanced around at the shiny appliances. “Does anyone ever cook here?”

“I cleaned it,” I explained.

“These appliances look brand-new.”

“Sometimes we use the microwave.” To heat up the food, we ordered from restaurants. “Two working women don’t have a lot of time to cook.”

Gavin opened the refrigerator and let out a low chuckle. “You two really don’t cook much do you?”

I looked over his shoulder and realized that there was half a gallon of milk with an expiration date from three months ago, a carton of eggs of dubious age, and something that might have once been a vegetable. Or cheese. It was hard to say.

“I guess it’s time to confess that I don’t know how to cook.” I buried my face in my hands. If my mother could hear me, she would be ashamed. She’d tried so hard to teach me how to cook and I had thwarted her at every turn.

“You can’t cook anything?”

“Macaroni and cheese and sometimes eggs, but those don’t always turn out.”

“So, I guess I’ll be doing the cooking in this relationship.” He moved past me and began to un-bag the groceries.

In this relationship.Had he really just said that? Had we gone from possibly this is a date to a relationship that quickly? My head was still spinning as he turned and handed me a bundle of vegetables in a netted plastic bag.

“What are these?” I asked suspiciously.

“Don’t tell me you don’t eat Brussels sprouts,” he said.

I held them up and studied them for a moment. Yes, I recognized this vegetable. I tried not to show my dismay. “My mother made them when we were kids. I don’t remember them looking like this.”

“They were probably frozen. Do me a favor. Give my Brussels sprouts a fighting chance.”

I set them on the counter with a nod. When it came to Gavin, I was determined to finally keep an open mind. I spent too much of the last few weeks fighting against my attraction for him. The least I could do was try his vegetables. That left me thinking about his cucumber.