“So what’d you do?”
“Naturally, I tossed my glass of ice water on the fire.”
Alec shook his head. “Please say you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“Shit.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
Alec chuckled. “So how’d you stop the fire?”
“I didn’t. My mom came in the kitchen a few minutes later and tossed some baking soda on it. She succeeded in putting out the fire, but not before it caused enough damage to require a new kitchen.”
“I bet your mom was pissed.”
“Fortunately, she’d been bugging my dad to remodel the kitchen for months, so she didn’t complain. She was more worried about me than the damage. Like most parents, she’s really protective. Sometimes her attention is overbearing and annoying, but she means well.”
Alec didn’t say anything for a few prolonged seconds. His mom probably spent most of his formative years drunk or high, and he would have liked it if she spared a few minutes of her time every once in awhile to at least feign some interest in him or Taylor. “You’re lucky you have parents that care. Not everyone is as fortunate,” he mumbled before turning around to finish dinner.
“I am,” she replied softly.
He could feel her eyes burning into his back. She wanted to ask him about his family, and he offered her the perfect opening, but that subject was off limits. He’d talk about Taylor, but as for the rest of his family members, they didn’t exist, at least to him.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and he tensed. If this were the part of the night where she dug into his past, he wouldn’t be sticking around for dinner.
“Alec.”
“Hm,” he answered, stirring the pasta in the boiling water.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Where’s your colander?”
She sighed, then placed the colander in the sink. “I’m not going to pry if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried, but I’m not interested in sharing. I don’t talk about my family…ever.” He tried to moderate the irritation in his voice, but his words came out harsher than he intended.
“Someday it might help to talk about it.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched before he could stop himself.
“Not today.”
“Got it. No sharing required. We can talk about the weather, cars, hiking, biking, chess, or music. I don’t think there’s a shortage of superficial topics. We should be able converse over dinner without too many awkward silences. Ten or twenty minutes without talking on a first date isn’t so bad. I went on one date where we hardly exchanged a word.”
“And you stayed for the entire date?” He frowned. “That must have been painful.”
“It was, but he’d been in a car accident and his jaw was wired shut.” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and looked away. He saw her shoulders shaking.
“You’re lying.”
When she turned to face him, she had a huge smile on her face. “You’re right, but I didn’t want you to feel bad if we had nothing left to talk about when you add more subjects to the no sharing category.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
Her eyes danced with mischief as she twirled a piece of her hair around her finger. “I’m not trying to be.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
She shrugged and took a sip of wine. A few stray drops of the white wine dotted her completely fuckable pink lips and all he could think about was licking every last drop and then nibbling on her lower lip until she opened and let him explore every inch of her. Her lips felt amazing against his this morning and it had taken him a good hour to erase her taste from his mind before he could concentrate. Tonight, he wanted to sample more than just her lips.
“I don’t have a clue,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, her smooth, pale cheeks noticeably blushing. Obviously, he didn’t do a good job of hiding the direction of his thoughts.
“Sit down, I’ll fix our plates.”
She sat in one of the white chairs at the kitchen table.
When he finished assembling their plates, he placed one in front of her. He leaned down, brushing her hair to the side and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the delicate skin of her neck, making it clear where he wanted this date to go. “Do you want another glass of wine?” he asked, inhaling her clean scent, letting it fill his lungs. She was so wholesome and happy, unlike him or any of the women he’d dabbled with in the past, but that wouldn’t stop him from pursuing her. Maybe that made him a bastard because anyone with eyes could see that he wasn’t good enough for her. He craved being with someone untainted by the evils of life and Little Violet was as untainted as anyone he’d ever met. If he were lucky, some of her goodness would rub off on him.