“Well, let’s hope it all tastes good,” I said pulling him by the hand to lead him to the feast I had spent all day preparing.
I sat Blaine at the head of the table and placed a linen napkin on his lap before picking up his plate to pile with food. It was all very subservient, and probably set women back several decades, but something inside me warmed. I remember watching my mom, aunts and grandmother cooking for hours together. When the food was ready and every mouth watered with anticipation, they would serve their family first, waiting on their men with rapt attention. I can’t even remember my grandfather ever getting his own food. Or my father.
I knew I should be ashamed, maybe even a bit disgusted, for wanting to serve Blaine, but I wasn’t. Part of me craved this. I liked feeling wanted. Needed. And no one made me feel those things more than him.
“You cooked all this?” he asked with wide, hungry eyes as he licked his lips.
“Yup. Now, we have Pancit, Chicken Adobo with white rice, barbeque pork and Lumpia. Should I give you a bit everything?”
“Yes, please,” he answered excitedly. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I can get my own food, Kam.”
“I know, but I want to.”
Blaine nodded and watched me intently, a small smile on his lips. “I can’t believe you did all this. What’s the occasion?”
I shrugged, avoiding his gaze as I spooned out the food. “Nothing special. Just wanted to do something nice for you. I’ve never cooked for a guy other than Dom so if you don’t like it, just don’t tell me. I probably would never cook again.”
“Baby, I’m sure I’ll love it all.”
There was that dirty little four-letter word again.
My hands began to sweat a bit, so I put the plate down to finish loading it before sliding it in front of Blaine. He dug in enthusiastically, moaning around mouthfuls of meat, noodles, vegetables and rice.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” he mumbled, closing his eyes in ecstasy. “This is amazing, babe. I’m in heaven. No bullshit, I think I just died and went to culinary heaven.”
I laughed as I took a bite of my own meal. “Good?”
“Good? Are you kidding me? This is the best food I’ve ever tasted. Seriously. Now if you tell Ms. Patty I said that, I may have to take an ass-whooping, but it’d be worth it. Yeah, babe…so damn good.”
I smiled as I watched him devour everything on his plate. I felt…domestic. Nurturing. Secure.
Home.
Not because we were at my place instead of his; it was Blaine. I felt at home with Blaine. And I never wanted that feeling to leave me.
What was I so afraid of? This was Blaine. Good-natured, uncomplicated, fun-loving Blaine. I was letting my imagination get the best of me. He would never try to get too deep with me. He knows about my past. A guy like him could have any woman he wanted. Why on Earth would he fall for someone like me—a total nutcase with more baggage than she could carry?
And if he did—so what? I could handle that. We were having fun. Just getting to know each other. Things were…comfortable. It’s not like he’d ever expect anything more than this.
Right?
“Hope you left room for dessert,” I said, once he had polished off another serving. I brought over a covered cake stand from the buffet behind us and set it before Blaine. Then I pulled off the top with a flourish, revealing a Leche Flan adorned with fresh blueberries and raspberries.
“Oh my God,” he breathed. “I think I love you.”
Thank sweet baby Jesus the cake cover was plastic, because it was on the floor.
We both scrambled to pick it up, though Blaine beat my shaky hands to it. I stood up straight, putting every ounce of my attention into cutting the flan. The knife shook between my clammy fingers.
“Kam?”
I couldn’t respond. I could hardly think beyond sinking the knife into the confection without losing a limb. I thought I was ready for this. I thought I wanted to hear those words. Hell, I thought I was strong enough to say them too.
But I was wrong. This…was wrong.
Love wasn’t for me. Fear eclipsed that possibility a long time ago.
“Kam, say something.” Blaine’s hand was over mine, slipping the knife from my trembling grasp.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Like what?” I croaked, my throat suddenly parched.
“I don’t know. Anything. I can see you’re freaking out, and I need to know you’re ok. That you’re still here with me.”
“I’m ok,” I whispered through the sand in my mouth.
Blaine pulled me closer to him. “No, you’re not. Talk to me.”
I looked away. I couldn’t look at his gorgeous face and mar it with the ugliness of truth. Because I wasn’t ok. I never would be, no matter how wonderful Blaine was. All the love in the world couldn’t undo the damage left behind by my past.