It's Only Love(13)
“Invite me to dinner at your folks’ house, Ella.”
She studied him for a long moment before a smile stretched across her face. “Gavin, would you like to come to dinner at the Abbott asylum?”
“I’d love to. I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER 6
Hope lies in dreams, in imagination,
and in the courage of those who dare
to make dreams into reality.
—Jonas Salk
Gavin went with her to the grocery store, where they picked out things they both liked for breakfast, lunch and dinner. More than once Ella wanted to fan her face just from having his extreme hotness close by, debating the merits of ham sandwiches versus turkey and wheat bread versus white. She let him win on the ham when she’d rather have turkey, but she refused to back down on the bread.
“You’re thirty-four years old. There’s no way you should still be eating white bread.”
“Why not? I like it.”
“It’s bad for you. It’s all flour and sugar and nothing much of anything else. You may as well be eating your sandwiches with cookies on either side of them.”
“That actually sounds pretty good.”
“Gavin,” she said, laughing, “I’m serious!”
“Am I allowed to buy cookies? Because I do like my cookies.”
“Only if you get some fruit, too.”
“You’re kinda mean, like my mom was when I lived at home.”
Ella hip-checked him as they turned a corner, nearly sending him into the row of mac ’n’ cheese.
Naturally, he zeroed right in on that. “Oh, I love orange cheese food. Can we get some of that?”
“Keep walking, Guthrie.” Never had grocery shopping ever been this fun or romantic. Not once had she ever gotten giddy over bread or deli meat, but she had never bought enough for two either. This was happening. It was actually happening, and it was all Ella could do not to break out in song right there in the meat aisle, where Gavin was pondering the difference between two kinds of pork tenderloin.
“That one,” Ella said, pointing.
“Are you going to cook this for me? Because you basically saw the outer limits of my culinary prowess this morning.”
“I’ll cook it for you.” I’d do anything for you, she thought but didn’t say. Dangerous thoughts. All the giddy hopefulness was messing with her better judgment where he was concerned. A tiger’s stripes didn’t suddenly change overnight, despite what the tiger would have you believe.
“What’re we having with this tenderloin?” he asked, snapping her out of her grim thoughts.
“My grandmother used to make these baby potatoes that I love and her own applesauce.”
“Am I drooling?” He pointed to his chin. “That’s drool, right?”
“Attractive.” They went back to the produce area to pick out the fruits and vegetables they needed.
Gavin got some bananas that met with her approval. “You’re going to be a good mom someday, Ella.”
She nearly buckled under the weight of that statement, coming from him of all people, the only man she could imagine fathering her imaginary children. On top of everything else that’d happened, it was almost too much to take in one twenty-four-hour period.
“El? Hello?”
“Um, oh, sorry. Those.” She pointed to the apples she needed to make her grandmother’s recipe.
“Was it something I said? About kids, perhaps?”
Ella shrugged, reluctant to let him see her emotional reaction to the subject of children. On their first official day together, he didn’t need to know how she’d once dreamed of having a big family like her parents had. Now at thirty-one, she would be perfectly thrilled to have one baby.
“We need ice cream.” She took off for the far end of the store without waiting for him. If they were going to talk about kids, she needed the kind of fortification only Ben and Jerry could provide.
Gavin caught up to her, reached around her and plucked a pint of Cherry Garcia from the cooler, dropping it into the basket. Then he went back and grabbed a container of Cake Batter for himself.
“You’re like a twelve-year-old.”
“Thank you.”
“You would take that as a compliment,” she said laughing.
“I was a cute twelve-year-old.”
You’re a cute thirty-four-year-old, too, she thought.
He trailed behind her as they headed for the checkout and nudged her aside when it came time to pay, sliding his card through the reader before she could reach for her wallet.
“I don’t expect you to pay for my groceries.”
“They’re our groceries, and you can pay next week.”
How could she argue with that? Even as her heart did a happy little leap at the mention of next week, his comment about kids and her future as a mother had popped Ella’s giddy balloon, leaving her out of sorts and not at all sure what she had to be out of sorts about. It was a nice thing for him to say, and it wasn’t his fault—entirely—that she didn’t have kids yet when she’d always hoped to be a young mother.
But wasn’t it his fault in a way? After all, she’d been waiting for him, whether actively or passively, for years. There’d been other guys. A few that might’ve been serious if the specter of Gavin Guthrie hadn’t hung over everything, larger than life and exactly what her heart desired, even when he didn’t seem to know she was alive.