Chapter 3 - To My Taste

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That first dinner went off without a hitch.

You had followed your nose and found Scott in a quaint kitchen. He was stirring a large pot of chilly when you saw him. The large dirty blond man with a lumberjack physique made you pause and observe him for a moment. You knew he was taller and stronger than you, but now properly seeing him, you couldn't help but find his physique appealing.

What you hadn't anticipated was how handsome his face was when he turned to look at you. His trimmed beard lined his strong jaw, and his eyes were the color of warm honey. He had laughed at you a bit when he caught you staring a little too long, making the sides of his eyes crinkle a bit. You just pouted, unsure how to respond.

One awkward reintroduction later he brought you to the dinner table. Dinner was promptly served to you in a large bowl. You were amused by how quickly he was to hop to his feet to rush back and forth if you needed something. A glass of water, done. A napkin, solved. He even brought over the whole loaf of bread when you asked if there was any more.

You had tapped out before dessert, holding your stomach. "If I have any more I'll pop," you laugh, but grimace a little as you hold your stomach.

He apologized, saying he just wanted to make a propper, second introduction and may have overfed you a bit. That was easily looked over when he gave you a smooth sweet smile after you complimented his cooking. It just simply made your insides purr.

That night you offered to sleep on the couch, it would have been an upgrade to your cot from before either way. Scott however insisted you take his bed, saying he wouldn't feel right. "The doors are drafty, plus I won't have to feel bad about midnight snacking," he argued with a wink.

You rescinded and took his bedroom, only making him take the heaviest blankets down to the couch with him. A few days of this pass, him cooking dinner, waiting on you hand and foot. You finally fuss and speak up, saying it wasn't right for you to mooch off his goodwill.

It was Scott's turn to pout and give in to you. He shows you how to run the water pump outside and feed the few chickens he had outback. You giggled watching them, you had at first asked what their names were.

Scott gave you a sympathetic look and patted your shoulder, "Best not name the things you're going to eat," he noted.

"Yeah, I suppose that's for the best," you agreed. You loved eating chicken and could cook one well, but kill one? You shivered a little, you'd leave that up to other people.

At first, Scott was apprehensive of letting you out of his sight, in or out of the house. He worried that something would happen to you, though he didn't know what exactly. The possibilities were a little overwhelming at one point.

One night he had stepped out to go check on a trap of his to find it had indeed caught something, but quite a while ago. It was past use, and he was upset with the waste. After tallying up his stores for the winter he knew he wouldn't have enough for the both of you all winter. He needed to keep up with his traps and hunting if he wanted to make sure you ate well.

"Are you sure you'll be alright Sugar?" Scott fretted a bit, hoisting a small bag on his shoulder full of supplies. Then a gun alongside it.

"Scotty, I told you I'll be fine," you say while drying your hands off on an apron Scott had given you to use. It was a bit big for you, but a few knots later, you both had managed to make it work. "What trouble could I possibly get into," you argue.

Scott's face turned into an expression of playful disbelief that made you roll your eyes.

"Go on, I'll be here when you get back. I'll clean up the house and start dinner when you get back, go on," you usher him out the front door.

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