“All the better for me then.” He thought quickly back to his (preplanned) casual and spontaneous invitation. “I got some fresh salmon from the store yesterday. You want to stay for dinner?” After a pause of no more than two seconds, he added, “Eva’s with her dad this weekend, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She is. It’s very lonely over there, so yes, I’d be happy to stay.” She lifted herself up onto a barstool, and he tried not to notice how the lush curves of her ass slid against the black leather. “So you don’t have a date tonight?”
“No. I don’t have a date.”
“Why not?”
He’d been getting the salmon and some vegetables out of the refrigerator, but he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Because I didn’t want to have a date tonight. I’ve had plenty of dates this month. Do I need a date every weekend?”
“No. But a lot of times you do. And you didn’t go out with anyone last weekend either. I need to find you another girl to go out with. I’ve definitely fallen down on my job.”
He’d hoped she had let her mission drop since she hadn’t mentioned it at all for the past week. But evidently not. “I’m doing fine without you fixing me up all the time.”
“Maybe. But you could do better.”
“How could I do better?”
“You could find someone to love.” She didn’t appear as excited as she had a month ago when she’d come up with this idea. In fact, she looked tired. Resigned. So that was something at least.
“I’ve got people to love.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean.” He sounded a little annoyed, but he couldn’t help it. He distracted himself by hunting in the refrigerator for a necessary (fictional) item for the meal.
“I don’t mean to be annoying. I’m trying to help. If you want me to stop, I will.”
Keith sighed and closed the refrigerator, having failed to find his imaginary ingredient. He turned around and leaned on his forearms on the bar. “If you know someone you really want to set me up with, I’ll do it. But you don’t need to be beating the bushes to dig someone up like I’m a desperate case. I’m doing fine. Just like you.”
She leaned her head on her hand, her eyes on his face. “I know you are. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it’s an emergency or something. I just felt bad because I told you I’d find someone and then I sort of dropped the ball.”
“I’m good with letting it drop.”
“I’m not. I’ll think about it. But I’ll only fix you up with someone if I really think it’s a good match.”
“Fair enough.”
“Can I help you chop something?” She gestured toward the pile of zucchini, peppers, mushrooms, and tomatoes he’d pulled out with the salmon.
“Sure.” He handed her the zucchini and mushrooms and a knife. “Bite-size pieces. Whatever’s easiest.”
Together, they worked on dinner until they’d prepared the salmon with an Italian orzo salad. Keith was normally a decent cook, but he was pleased that the food had turned out particularly good tonight.
They ate it at the bar with some chardonnay, and the conversation shifted to better topics. Work. Eva. The book on the Brooklyn Bridge Keith had finally finished. He had a good time, and Serena appeared to as well. She was flushed and smiling as he suggested they find a movie to watch.
They spent some time browsing the streaming networks he subscribed to and finally decided on an old romantic comedy that Serena loved and Keith didn’t mind too much.
He would have let her watch anything she wanted, but she knew too well his own tastes, so she immediately discounted anything that he disliked.
They watched the movie and ate a couple of the brownies she’d brought over, and Serena sat closer to him on the couch than was entirely necessary.
Just not close enough.
Any move he made to get her closer would be immediately suspect, and he didn’t want to ruin a good evening by spooking her. So he contented himself with the fruity smell of her hair and the feel of the couch shifting every time she adjusted position.
When the movie was over, Serena didn’t move. She didn’t get up, ready to leave the way she normally did after they finished watching something.
He’d poured the last chardonnay after they’d eaten the brownies, and his blood started pulsing intensely when she swirled the little bit of wine left in her glass. The room felt strangely silent now that the movie had ended.
She shot him a glance after a minute. “Heard anything from your family?”
He hadn’t been expecting that question. In truth, he had no idea what he might have expected. But he didn’t mind telling her the truth about even the most personal aspects of his life. So he replied, “No. I still call once a week even though I’m mostly just talking to their voice mail. My mom will usually text a couple of times a month. Just to verify we’re all still alive, I think. But otherwise nothing.” His tone was matter-of-fact. He’d resigned himself years ago to never being close to his family. It was an old ache. Familiar.
She reached out to put a sympathetic hand on his thigh, the touch branding him even through the denim of his jeans. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. He definitely didn’t want her feeling sorry for him, although he appreciated her obvious care for him. “Don’t be. It is what it is. They’re never going to forgive me for not staying in their social circle and living off their money, and that’s one decision I’ll never regret.”
“Well, it’s still hard to have a family like that.” She made a face. “Sometimes I want to give them all a big smack in the head.”
He chuckled and reached out to squeeze her hand, which was still resting on this thigh. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I wouldn’t recommend it. They can do their thing. I’ll do mine. All of us are fine.”
“You should be better than fine.” She hadn’t yet pulled her hand out of his grip. She stroked his knuckles with her other hand. “They should know how lucky they are to have you in their life.”
“They don’t want me in their life. But thanks for the pep talk anyway.”
“It’s not a pep talk. It’s true. You’re amazing, Keith. You’ve always been amazing. And anyone who doesn’t realize how amazing you are is just... just...” She was staring down at their clasped hands.
“Just what?” he asked, genuinely curious and also ridiculously touched by her faith in him.
“Just clueless.” The words came out as almost a whisper.
His breath had turned ragged, although he was trying to control it so she wouldn’t hear. He couldn’t resist the temptation to push back some of the hair that was hiding her face. He tucked it behind her ear and murmured, “Does that include you?”
“I’m not clueless.” She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I know how amazing you are.”
“Do you?” he asked thickly.
He was right on the cusp of action. He could feel himself teetering on the edge. One more step and he’d be over the line. No going back.
“Yes. Of course I do. You think I don’t?” Her hazel eyes were so deep and full he could drown in them.