“You bought me a brand new amazing car,” I say, shaking my head in astonishment. “I still have to pinch myself and remember that it’s actually mine, even after a year.”
“It’s nothing, Sabina. You’ve been driving the same car for years, and I know you’ve always had your eyes on this one. It’s what you said you’d always buy if you got rich.”
I grin. “I did say that, didn’t I? So because I didn’t get rich, and you did, you bought it for me? Breaking my independent woman streak, Dean.”
He chuckles, reaching over and tapping my thigh gently. “You’ll survive. What did you do with your old car, anyway?” he asks, changing lanes.
“Tara’s little sister got knocked up, and she didn’t have a car with a newborn. She’s only eighteen, so I just gave it to her. I didn’t need it.”
I hope in a way I passed on the same generosity that Dean did, except on a smaller scale, because what Dean did for me was very, very generous. Danielle needed a car, and I had a spare one. And now she and her baby boy have a mode of transport.
“That was nice of you,” he says.
“I’m a nice girl,” I reply, arching my brow.
He grins and nods. “I know.”
He parks the car and we walk up to my apartment, his hat low on his head and his shades on. When we walk inside, I see that he’s already set the table and there are two candles in the centre of it.
I look at him to see him watching me, gauging my reaction. Is he trying to make this a romantic dinner? Like a date? Well, apparently he already had one of those today, so maybe he just turns every situation into a date. He walks ahead and pulls out a chair for me, so I sit. It’s kind of early for dinner, but I’m starving, so I’m thankful that he cooked early. I’m secretly hoping he made me fried rice again, although I doubt that he did.
“What are you thinking?” he asks as he steps into the kitchen and opens the oven.
“I’m wondering if it’s fried rice,” I blurt out, peeking over to try and see what he pulls out of it. He serves the food and brings two plates to the table. He made steak, mashed potato, corn, and garlic bread. My mouth waters, especially at the look of the mushroom gravy on top of the meat.
“That looks amazing,” I say, picking up my fork.
“Not too disappointed it isn’t fried rice?” he jokes, returning to the kitchen. He comes back to the table with a bowl, which he puts in the centre. I peer into it. Fried rice. He sits down while I look at him, shaking my head in awe.
“You are something else, Dean Amore,” I say, smiling. “You didn’t have to go to so much effort. The steak is perfect.” I grab the bowl of fried rice and stick my fork in it. “You really spoil me, you know that?”
“Effort is the one thing that determines how much someone wants you in their life, Sabina. Of course I’m going to put in effort when it comes to you, and that will never change.”
I put the bowl down, and the fork, stand up, and move to him. Boldly sitting on his lap, I wrap my arms around him and gently kiss his lips. I have no words to say, so I’m going to let my lips handle the situation. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. No one has cared so much. I end the kiss and bury my face in his neck, smelling his scent.
It smells like home.
Why didn’t I see this before?
“I’ll cook for you every damn day if that’s the reaction I’m going to get,” he says, hands sliding down my back. He kisses my forehead, then tells me to eat. “I know you’re hungry.”
When I don’t move, he cuts a piece of his own steak, adds some mashed potato, and brings it to my lips. I open my mouth, then groan as the delicious taste hits my tongue. “Holy crap, you sure know how to grill a steak.”
He laughs, shaking me with him. “Glad you approve.”
I get up and sit in my own chair, not wanting to stop him from eating too. He put so much effort into cooking and I want to show him how much I appreciate it. I eat everything on my plate and save the rice for second dinner, whenever I get hungry next. He helps me clean up, and then I have a hot shower and get into my pyjamas. When I leave my room, he’s on the couch watching TV.
“What movie do you want to watch?” he asks, taking in my black silk shorts and singlet top. “Although I don’t know how you expect me to concentrate with you wearing that.”
I look down at my top and grin. “What, this old thing?”
It actually isn’t old, but it isn’t new either. It’s a perfect set for those warm summer nights, and yeah, it’s also very flattering. I don’t want to examine why I put so much effort into my freaking pyjamas. Yeah, let’s not go there right now.