Under the Cover of Darkness

21 | Carson

“You live here?” was her wide-eyed question when I finally killed the engine in the garage of the house I was staying at.

I didn't even have a chance to reply because she was mouthing off again, eyes adorably wide behind her mask.

“I mean I don't really know what I was expecting but this is way too big. Even for you.”

“Go big or go home, am I right?” I wriggled my eyebrows at her and got a playful laugh in return.

“Technically we are home.”

She opened her door and got out.

It was such an offhanded statement but it stayed with me as I unlocked the door and turned on some lights for the first night since I'd started staying here.

The idea of being home with her had a very delicious appeal and once again I found myself thinking uncharacteristic thoughts.

“So, sodas huh?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she settled before the gleaming granite counter.

“Ok, so full disclosure, we're not just going to be drinking sodas. We're going to be drinking sodas with my special ravioli casserole,” I told her, all the while rolling up my sleeves to get to work.

“Wait,” she gave a small disbelieving laugh. “You're going to cook? Should I be worried about my safety?”

I stopped and turned to her with a stare of my own. “Yes and no and why do you ask like my cooking is the most preposterous thing in the world?”

Her mouth hung open in a small, adorable ‘o’. “You're actually serious.”

“Just wait and see.”

I started getting the ingredients out of the fridge. I had wanted to cook tonight not just to impress her with my culinary skills but because I missed it. It had been forever since I ate a meal prepared by my own hand and I missed the aroma of cooking food.

“I feel like there's a story here. Did you just learn this recipe?” Her eyes still retained an improbable glint in their colorful depths.

“Hey, I can cook, what's the big deal?”

“Nothing, I guess I just don't understand why.”

“Why not? My best friend Eddie thought it was a useless skill but honestly, it was either this or knitting.”

Her laugh reverberated around the hollow kitchen as I put on an apron.

“Knitting? Aren't you a little too young for that?”

“Well, for some reason they were the only two skills my litany of babysitters could offer.”

An alarm bell went off in my head at the fact that I was starting to over share.

“Wow, that just slipped out. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . .”

“No, no, no. It's fine.” She reached out and gave my hand a small squeeze. “I didn't expect your childhood to be peaches and rainbows,” then she gave a sheepish shrug like it was she that was supposed to be embarrassed by this fact.

With all the ingredients before me I started on one of the easier dinner meals I'd cooked.

“You know, it still amazes me the fact that you can cook,” Butterfly said as I was putting the dish in the oven.

“Well, I am full of surprises,” I told her as I closed the oven door and started untying the apron. “Looks like we have about forty five minutes to an hour before that gets cooked.”