Four Week Fiance (Four Week Fiance #1)(65)

“And that it will be.” TJ grinned as he pulled up to his high-rise apartment complex and into the parking lot. “We’re here.”

“Yes, we are.” I got out of the car and all of my nerves suddenly hit me again. I couldn’t believe I was going to dinner at TJ’s place and it was just going to be me. No Cody, no Sally, no parents, no nothing. Just the two of us.

“Let’s go.” TJ took my hand and led me to the building. “Are you nervous, Mila?”

“Of course not. Why would I be nervous?” I said and I ignored the feeling of his fingers squeezing mine as he escorted me to the elevator. We walked into the elevator and I tried to ignore the look he was giving me. Was he deliberately trying to look sexy as hell?

“This is my floor,” TJ said as we got off on the twenty-first floor and walked towards his sumptuous loft apartment.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked him, grinning as he opened his door.

“Me,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he ushered me in.

“Very funny,” I said as my stomach flipped over. I walked into his apartment and looked around in awe. TJ had redecorated since I’d last been there. His walls were all a light sand color and he had a huge dark-brown sectional in his living room, opposite a grand fireplace. “You have a fire burning?”

“I wanted to set the mood,” he said softly as he stood next to me. “You approve?”

“It’s gorgeous in here.” I nodded, admiring his taste as I walked farther into his apartment. I noticed the bottle of champagne on his coffee table, sitting in a silver bucket of ice, and two flutes next to the bucket. “Champagne?”

“And strawberries.” He grinned. “And chocolate.”

“Are you trying to spoil me?” I laughed.

“Something like that.” He nodded and he reached over and ran his fingers across my lips. “But before I spoil you, you must eat.”

“What are you cooking?”

“I have steaks.” He looked down into my eyes. “With a red wine cream sauce and mashed potatoes.”

“Sounds yummy.” I licked my lips.

“Good.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Have a seat on the couch and I’ll start cooking.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” I asked him as he walked to the kitchen. “I can make a mean salad.”


“No, that’s okay. Put on some music. My stereo is next to the TV.”

“What shall I put on?”

“You choose.” He grinned and looked back at me from the kitchen. “Just no One Direction or 'N Sync or whoever the cool boy band is today.”

“I don’t listen to boy bands,” I lied. Of course I still listened to boy bands. They were awesome. I walked over to his stereo and my jaw dropped as I gazed at his flat-screen TV. It was huge, at least 65 inches. I’d never seen a TV so big before. I turned to his speakers and saw an iPod sitting on a Bose dock. I nodded, impressed. I picked up the iPod and searched through his music to see who he listened to. I was surprised at the range of musicians that he had on the player and quickly pressed play on a Beatles song I’d loved as a child, “Hey Jude.”

“That’s not baby-making music,” TJ called out from the kitchen, and I laughed and walked back towards him to see how he was doing.

“How goes the cooking?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen and burst out laughing at the huge mess. There were plates and pieces of food all over the countertops. “Or shouldn’t I ask.”

“It’s going fine.” He laughed. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Uh huh.” I shook my head at him. “What can I do to help? Peel the potatoes?” I looked down at the half cut potatoes that still had most of the skin on them.

“You don’t have to do that!” He shook his head and dropped the butter knife that was in his hand. “I want you to relax.”

“So what should I relax and do?” I asked him softly as he walked up to me, his green eyes gleaming.

“Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and led me out of the kitchen and down a hallway.

“Where are we going?” I asked him suspiciously.

“I want you to relax in a bath while I cook.”

“Relax in a bath?”

“I have a spa tub.” He grinned. “I’ll put in some relaxing salts and oils and then I’ll come and get you right before dinner’s ready so you can put some clothes back on.”

“Are you sure?” I asked him as he opened the door to his bathroom and I stared at his huge tub.

“I’m positive.” He nodded and walked over to the bathtub and started running it. “I’ll let you decide on the temperature,” he said as he walked to a cupboard and pulled out a box and bottle of something. I watched as he poured them both into the tub and then put them on his marble countertop. He then opened another drawer, pulled out two candles and lit them and turned the lights out.

“TJ,” I said, looking at him in surprise. “This is really thoughtful of you, but I would feel really bad to take a bath while you’re cooking.”

“Don’t.” He grinned. “I want to spoil you and show you what could be yours if you lived here too.”