ONCE MORE, WITH YOU

XIV

Solené Beckett

When we pulled up to my house, I barely waited for the car to come to a full stop before stepping out to open the door for her.

"Someone's a gentlewoman," she teased, a sly smile playing on her lips as she accepted my hand to step out.

"Aren't I always?" I shot back, feigning confidence.

"Eh," she shrugged with mock indifference. "If that helps you sleep at night."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips as I led the way to my front door. With a flourish, I pushed it open and stepped aside, letting her enter first.

Her sharp intake of breath was the only sound for a moment as she took in the scene. Candles flickered softly, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Vases brimming with lush red and pink roses lined the walls, their delicate scent filling the air. Balloons in matching hues hovered near the high ceiling, swaying gently, as if part of a private, whispered symphony. The dim lighting wrapped the space in a cozy, almost magical ambiance.

I stood there, watching her every movement, every flicker of emotion across her face, as nerves twisted tight in my chest.

"Well?" I finally asked, my voice quieter than I intended. "Do you like it?"

She turned to me slowly, her eyes wide and glimmering with something I couldn't quite place. For a moment, she didn't speak, and that silence felt like an eternity. Then, her lips curved into a soft, genuine smile.

"Like it?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... perfect."

Her smile lit up the room, but I wasn't done yet. "Come on," I said, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchen.

As we stepped into the kitchen, I grabbed the bottle of wine chilling on the counter—a bold red I knew she'd love.

"Wine?" I asked, holding it up with a teasing grin.

"Absolutely," she said, sliding onto one of the stools by the counter. "Is this your way of buttering me up before feeding me something fancy?"

"Something like that." I poured us both a glass and handed one to her.

She took a sip, closing her eyes briefly as the flavor hit. "Okay, I'll admit, you're off to a strong start."

"Just wait," I said, setting down my glass and heading to the fridge. I pulled out an array of ingredients: marbled filet mignons, fresh asparagus, baby potatoes, and a handful of herbs I'd picked up earlier.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Filet mignon? You're not messing around."

"Only the best for you," I said, arranging the ingredients on the counter. "But I could use an extra pair of hands. You up for it?"

She slid off the stool with a mischievous smile. "I'm in. What's the game plan, Chef?"

I handed her a cutting board and a knife. "You're on herb duty—chop these nice and fine for the butter sauce. I'll get started on the steaks."

"Herb duty? Please, I'm the real talent here," she quipped, grabbing the parsley.

"Sure you are," I shot back with a grin as I seasoned the steaks with salt and pepper, then heated the cast-iron skillet until it was just shy of smoking.

She glanced over at the sizzle of the meat hitting the pan, her knife pausing mid-chop. "Okay, I'll give you this—you know your way around a kitchen."

"Impressed?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

"Let's not get carried away," she teased, resuming her work.

While the steaks seared, I moved to the potatoes, tossing them with olive oil, garlic, and rosemary before sliding them into the oven. As I reached across the counter to grab the lemon, our hands brushed again.

"Excuse me," I said, the words coming out softer than I intended.

She smirked but didn't move her hand right away. "You're excused."

The air between us felt charged for a moment, but then she stepped back, breaking the spell.

"You're distracting me," I shot back, turning to baste the steaks with butter and garlic in the pan.

"Me? You're the one pulling out all the stops. I'm just here chopping herbs like a pro."

I glanced at her handiwork. "Pro, huh? Those chunks could use some work."

"Careful, you don't want to test me," she said, pointing the knife at me playfully.

I held up my hands in mock surrender. "Noted."

By the time we plated everything, the kitchen smelled heavenly. We sat across from each other at the candlelit table, the flickering light casting warm shadows on her face.

She took a bite of the steak, her eyes widening slightly. "Okay, I'll give you this—it's phenomenal."

"I'll take that as a win," I said, cutting into my own.

Dinner passed with easy conversation and laughter, and by the time we cleared the plates, I was already thinking about what was next.

"Ready for part two?" I asked, standing and extending a hand to her.

"Part two?" she echoed, intrigued.

"First, we change. Trust me."

She followed me upstairs, and we both swapped our outfits for something more comfortable—she in an oversized hoodie and shorts, and me in joggers and a loose T-shirt. When we returned downstairs, I led her out to the backyard.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the pool. The surface shimmered under the glow of fairy lights strung above, and in the middle floated two oversized lounge chairs, complete with built-in cup holders. A projector cast a crisp image onto a white screen set up just beyond the pool's edge.

"Okay, now I'm impressed," she said, stepping closer to the water.

I handed her a fresh bowl of popcorn and gestured to the floatables. "Your chariot awaits."

We each climbed onto the floats, the water rippling softly around us. As the movie began, we drifted lazily in the pool, the cool night air perfectly balancing the warmth of the evening.

About halfway through the film, I caught her grinning at me from the corner of my eye.

"What?" I asked, suspicious.

"Nothing," she said innocently.

The next thing I knew, she reached out and shoved my float just enough to tip it. I flailed, but it was useless—I tumbled straight into the water with a loud splash.

When I surfaced, her laughter echoed around the pool.

"You're terrible," I said, pushing wet hair out of my face.

"Terribly funny," she corrected, wiping tears from her eyes.

Without warning, I grabbed the edge of her float and yanked it toward me, sending her toppling in after me.

She came up sputtering, glaring at me with mock indignation. "You did not just do that."

"All's fair," I said with a shrug, grinning.

Her glare softened into a laugh, and she splashed water at me, the sound of her laughter filling the night.

We eventually climbed out, dripping wet but grinning like idiots. She grabbed a couple of towels from the nearby rack, tossing one at me.

"This is turning into the most chaotic movie night ever," she said, wrapping the towel around herself.

"Admit it," I said, wringing out my shirt. "You're having fun."

She looked at me, her expression softening. "Yeah, I am."