Page 67 of Playing Pretend

“Get dressed,” Caleb instructed again. “And please come outside.”

He lifted my hand, and pressed his mouth to my knuckles before turning on his heel and walking away.

Okay, so he was being serious, but why…

Gah!

If I had to be admitted to the loony bin, it would be Caleb’s fault. It took a few minutes for me to convince myself to go outside, despite it being against my better judgment. Maybe it was time to admit that my judgment was also fucked.

To oblivion.

I changed into a pair of white linen shorts, and a grey t-shirt, and traipsed barefoot onto the terrace. I rounded the corner, and saw Caleb had returned to the grill.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” he said, his back to me. He looked casual in a navy polo shirt, beige slacks rolled up to his knees, and no shoes. Was it weird that I thought Caleb’s feet were hot? So masculine, and –

Jesus, Kadence, they’re feet for goodness sake!

“I thought about standing you up, but it’s a little difficult to do when we live in the same house.”

Caleb chuckled. “I’m glad you changed your mind.” He twisted his head, his eyes lit up by the candles, and lanterns scattered around us. “Take a seat. The steak will be ready in a few minutes, so you can relax and have some wine.”

“I still don’t understand.” I rubbed at my arms, even though it was humid, and warm outside.

“This,” Caleb lifted the steaks from the grill, and placed it on the table, “Is our first date.”

When I didn’t respond immediately, Caleb pulled out a chair, and motioned for me to take a seat. The food alone was enough to persuade me, there was no need for Caleb to play Prince Charming. The delicious aroma’s aroused my senses, and the growl that emanated from my stomach was loud.

“Glad you brought your appetite,” chuckled Caleb. “I made enough for six people.”

He took a seat on my right, rather than on the opposite side of the table, giving us both a view of the city. It made for a romantic backdrop, and I wasn’t sure if that was what Caleb was going for or not.

“You made all this?”

Caleb smiled, and then placed two perfectly cooked steak medallions on my plate. “Don’t look so surprised, Kadence. I happen to be great in the kitchen.”

And in bed, I finished thoughtfully. Stupid brain. Just couldn’t resist going down that road.

“It looks great,” I said, truthfully. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting this when you told me to get a cab after work.”

“I was hoping I’d do a better job of surprising you,” said Caleb. “After our conversation this morning, I thought we’d made some headway.”

“We didn’t finish our conversation,” I reminded him. “Aaliyah had impeccable timing.”

“I might not have said everything I wanted to, but I assumed you’d catch on without me having to say the words.”

“Actions speak louder than words, Caleb. At least with me they do.”

“Is this,” - Caleb motioned to the space around us, and then to the food and table settings - “Loud enough?”

I wanted to say yes, but I was still trying to determine what Caleb’s intentions were. I reached for the fresh garlic bread, salivating at the rich scent, and then took some of the strawberry and avocado salad. Caleb poured some creamy mushroom sauce over my medallions, and I had to acknowledge the guy could put together a decent spread.

When Caleb realized I wasn’t going to give him an answer, he asked, “So, how is it?”

“Delicious.” I swallowed another bite. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

Caleb sipped at his wine, and then smiled, as if remembering a happy memory. “My dad. He always loved being in the kitchen. Unfortunately, I was too stubborn, and to immature to really appreciate it at the time.”

As much as I wanted to hear more about Caleb’s childhood, and the obvious closeness between him and his father, I knew we couldn’t discuss it without getting into the history between our families.