Fighter

Ten

Your POV

Growing up in a house full of employees didn't help me learn to cook a lot, but I know how to cook some good meals, mainly because my grandmother taught me how to make them when my parents would drop me off on Cape Cod every summer.

Scarlett knocks on the door promptly at seven o'clock. She looks beautiful in a faded old jeans, white tank top and colorful shoes. Her hair is braided on the side and her face is almost without makeup except for a dark eyeliner that highlights her gaze.

Scarlett is different from the women I used to date she doesn't seem like the type where a stylist chooses her clothes and a makeup artist touches up her perfect face. She has a natural beauty that doesn't need anything else. It's effortless and simple, and it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

Having grown up surrounded by men and being the daughter of "The Saint" I suppose she would have been put on a pedestal. But she doesn't act like she's a trophy. On the contrary, she has a calm and very feminine confidence. No great display is necessary for my thoughts to shift from reverence to indecency.

- Is everything ok?- She asks while tilting her head while I'm lost in her beauty.

- Yes.- I smiles, wrapping a hand around her waist and moving me closer to kiss her cheek. I linger a little longer in this position when I smell her, longer than a friend would do.

-You smell good.- I whisper, my mouth next to her ear. A small tremor runs through her body i feel it but she tries to hide it.

- Thanks.- She answers breathlessly, but shows uncertainty on her face. I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one affected by being so close.

Concentrating on breathing I try to gather my thoughts.

- I made stuffed artichokes and steaks.

- Hmm.....- Scarlett closes her eyes.- There's a wonderful smell in here.

It really is, but it has nothing to do with the food in the oven.

- Do you want a glass of wine? now I have a corkscrew. - Scarlett follows me into the kitchen and opens the oven door to peek.

- No, thank you.

- You don't like red wine? I asked them to deliver a white one too, just in case.- I show the bottle to the fridge.

- No, I like red wine. I'm just too weak for these things. Two glasses and I'll be sleeping on your couch.

- I'll let you sleep in the bed.

She shakes her head in amusement.

- Always kind. You would give me your bed and sleep on that little sofa.- She points to the living room sofa that would probably only fit half of my body.

- Who said I'd sleep on the sofa? - I put the corkscrew in the bottle and arch an eyebrow suggestively.

Her face flushes a little and she tries to change the subject.

- So you know how to cook? - She leans over the counter as I take dinner out of the oven.

- Is one of my many talents.

- Many talents? - She rolls her eyes playfully, but speaks anyway. - I'll pretend to believe it and although something tells me I'll regret asking, but what are your other many talents?

- Ah, the list is long.- I provoke.- I can walk with my hands.

Scarlett smiles.

- That's a talent. And what else?