At Your Service - A.C. Arthur Page 0,49
don’t want to sleep with me in my bed? Should we have gone back to your apartment instead?”
“Oh no, that’s not it.” In fact, she’d been flattered when he’d announced during the drive from his parents’ house that they would be coming to his place. She’d refused to ask why he hadn’t brought her here before, chalking it up to their little charade instead of any other personal reason he might not want her there.
He looked at her strangely, a brow lifting in question. “Then what is it?”
“I’m hungry,” she said, because it was true and because she wasn’t sure what she was feeling for him at this moment. Or what he was really feeling for her.
“I mean no offense to your mother’s dinner. It was a wonderful spread, but I’m used to a little more than soup, salad and the smallest portions of beef rib tips and asparagus that I’ve ever seen.”
That’s right, insult his mother instead of telling him she was afraid she was really falling for him.
When he threw back his head and laughed, Nina relaxed. Laughter was definitely better than his ordering her to get dressed and get out.
“I planned to wait until you were asleep before sneaking into the kitchen to grab something else to eat.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Why didn’t you say something? I thought that’s the way your family was used to eating, so I didn’t want to comment.”
“My mother doesn’t cook, so dinners are always catered. The only time we get loads of food is on Thanksgiving and Christmas. My father says that’s the best time of the year.”
He continued to laugh while they finished with the towels and dropped them into the hamper by the door.
“You go on into the bedroom and find something to sleep in. I mean, I’m good with you staying just the way you are, but I’m guessing you’d like to be dressed to eat.”
They were still naked. Yet they’d been standing there talking as if they showered and talked in the nude every day.
“Oh, are you going to order something?”
“No. I’m going to cook us something.”
“You cook?”
She knew she was frowning this time because she couldn’t believe that Major was good in the kitchen.
As it turned out, twenty minutes later, when they were sitting on stools in his kitchen, he could bake a homemade pizza that tasted just as good as any pizzeria she’d ever been to, if not better.
“What’s on this?” she asked as she took another bite.
“Alfredo sauce, ricotta and mozzarella cheeses, plenty of black pepper and oregano.”
“It’s delicious,” she said over the mouthful, and wasn’t lying. “Where’d you learn how to cook if your mother hires caterers?”
“In college. I didn’t like going out much, so I figured it was best to not starve for four years.”
“Why didn’t you like to go out?”
He hesitated, took another bite of his pizza, chewed and then used a napkin to wipe his mouth.
Nina hadn’t realized she was waiting for his response until he looked at her and shook his head.
“It’s not such a big deal now since I’ve learned how to deal with it. But it was because of a girl.”
Never in a million years would she have guessed he’d say that. “What? A girl had you holed up in your dorm for four years?”
“Not exactly. It was during my sophomore year. I thought it was love. Stacia Hudgins poured it on real thick, was talking marriage, kids, the whole package. Come to find out she and her parents had it all set up. They knew who I was, who my family was, and they wanted in. A fake pregnancy scare, lots of tears and then a threat of scandal, and it was over by the time I came home for the summer. That’s when I knew relationships weren’t for me.”
Nina chewed another bite all the while thinking she’d like to have been at school with Stacia Hudgins so she could serve the girl a good dose of “get a life.” Or, as Nina and her sisters would have called it, “whoop ass.”
“Yeah, I’m not into the ‘happy-ever-after’ thing, either.” She was almost positive that was still true. “But not because of any guy in particular. My culprit was my mother. She left when I was twelve. Had enough of the family life and decided there was something better away from the home she’d built. Left my dad with three girls and a broken heart that he’s still nursing. Probably why he’s gotten so sick,