Chapter 9
We get back from the beach relatively late, it's only 8 but we're all too tired to go out to the diner and battle crowds. So I suggested I cook, since I learned some from my mom and grandma. Ashton had agreed and gone upstairs to carry a sleeping Austin from the car to his bed. He knocked out on the way back and has been asleep since. We'll probably try to wake him for dinner but if he shrugs it off, it's not something we'll push.
A slight knock at the swinging kitchen door catches my attention. "Come on in." I laugh. Ashton's head appears a second later, peaking in before stepping inside.
I had put on an apron in the meantime and decided to start chopping up green onions at the stove. I was starting on making tacos, which was usually a crowd favorite all around. If anything could will Austin up, taco night can.
"Charlie asleep?" I ask.
"Yeah. Kid was out like a light," He laughs.
He leans against the counter, arms crossing over eachother as he examines me. I couldnt help noticing his exaggerated looks at me today, longer than typical glances but he was definitely not trying to stare. I know how he feels, it's a lot like what I was trying not to do and I'm glad he finds me relatively attractive. I'm not the most confident girl in the world but I'm not usually insecure either, not anymore, but I am with Ashton. I can't help noticing how nice his kitchen is, too. Wood cabinets, stainless-steel fridge and sink, what looks like antique cookware refurbished. There's a few touches that makes you notice that this is a guys house. No flowers or flourished decorations or anything.
I walk to the refrigerator and pull out lettuce, cheese, but was unsuccessful in the tomato search. Next comes taking out the knife and cheese grater. I even out the onions and start chopping in fluid motions.
"Need any help?" He offers.
I raise an eyebrow. "You cook?"
"I make dinner most nights.."
"Yeah? What'd you have the last time you made dinner for yourself?" I ask, letting the grin tug at my lips as I continue chopping.
"Ham on rye. With a pickle."
"And the night before that?"
"Ham on rye. No pickle."
I giggle, "What was the last actual meal you cooked?"
"What? Ham on rye isn't an acceptable meal?" He laughs, then grows quiet for a second as if thinking. "No, but, I think it was Beanies and Weenies."
I fake amazement. "I stand corrected, then. Do you think you can handle cheese grating?"
"Oh, I can handle it." He takes it up next to me and begins to scrape the cheese against the metal. I can feel him sneaking glances as he works, smirking to himself as he continues with his grating.
"You mentioned your grandma taught you to cook?" He mentions after a second. I steal a quick look at him.
"Yeah, my mom tried but I think I was too young, she- passed when I was young and I never got the chance. So, yeah, I stayed with my grandma on occasions and she taught me everything about baking and cooking, in general and I love it." I smile. "I use to want to do it for a living, open up a restaurant or something because nothing in life seemed to fit me."
I hadn't planned on saying that but it slipped.
I wave it off, "its stupid, now."
"No, it's not." He looks at me again, now voluntarily stirring up the salsa I had set up cooking and throwing chives in. "It's a valid dream and you should be able to do what you want."
I smile down at the rag I'm using to clean off the cutting board knife. "Thank you. We can probably go on and set the table if you want to go see if Charlie's up for dinner? Tell him it's tacos."
He nods once before taking off through the door, seconds later come the sound of footsteps hopping the stairs. Meanwhile, I load the table with bowls of salsa, ground beef, lettuce, and cheese. Not to mention the shells.
Ashton returns saying all Austin wanted to do was sleep and that we're on our own for dinner, which, oddly enough, made me giddy.
Ashton bites into his loaded taco once, wipes his mouth with a napkin, and clears his throat. "So, how long do you think you're staying in town?"
I scrunch my eyebrows. "I don't know, I mean, I was planning when the bus came but I don't really know anymore."
"Yeah." He trails off. I just don't know if it's safe; I wanted to say.
"What do you like about it?"
"I like the quiet. Silence is really comforting to me, I don't find it awkward. I like the small town persona, even though I really don't like any other small town. I like spending time with you and Charlie. I have no intention in leaving since I do get along good here, with the store at all. I like it." His gaze flickered across my face as he spoke, eyes glistening as he grins. My heart jolts a little and I smile.
I lean forward across the table so my forearms rest on either side of my plate. "I think you left something important out in that list of things you like?"
"Is that so?"
"Yeah; me." Feeling pretty confident at the moment, also a little on my high from the glass of wine I found in his kitchen. I study his features for any sign of a reaction, curling my lips up in a teasing grin.
"I might've forgot?"
"Mmm?"
"Shy?"
"Doubt it."
He leans back in his chair, still calm as he smiles nonchalantly. "I have no more excuses."
"Figured. How about we talk about it another time?"
"Over dinner?" He raises an eyebrow.
"That's what I was thinking."
"How about tomorrow?"
"Think we can sneak away from Charlie?"
"Oh, I'll come up with something."
••A/N
Inspiration from the scene came a lot from the book The Lucky One
