Precious Consequences(21)

Hannah and Noah live here? Huh. I never expected that since they’re very unassuming about their wealth. I like them even more, if that’s possible.

“Now, if you’d take a seat, I will pour you some sparkling wine and get dinner started.”

“You’re cooking for me?” I ask. I flush when I realize how shocked I sound. But truthfully I can’t help it. Cameron doesn’t look like he knows his way around a kitchen but I’m intrigued enough to hope that he’ll prove me wrong.

“Yes,” he replies, chuckling again. Relief floods me when my shock is met with humor instead of defensiveness. “I am preparing out meal this evening, Miss. Tanner.”

I laugh when he mimics the voice of a waiter, noting the playfulness with which he’s said it. His nerves seem to have disappeared and been replaced with an easiness I’ve never seen him before.

“What will you be making me, Mr. Argent?” I tease. “Grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Cameron brings a hand to his chest and gasps, feigning hurt. “I will tell you right now that I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich, but no, I’m pulling out all the stops.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re adding peanut butter to it, for that extra kick.”

Cameron’s nose scrunches up. “You eat peanut butter with your grilled cheese sandwiches?”

No, but my daughter does, I say in my head. “No,” I laugh. “But now I’m curious to see what you’ll be making me.”

He grins, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

With that he turns around and wraps an apron around his waist and slips it over his head, tying it around his neck. He sets to work pulling pots and pans from drawers, placing everything he’ll need within reaching distance. I make myself useful and pour us each a glass of sparkling red wine. I take a sip, enjoying the sweet taste. It’s delicious.

“So why are we having dinner here and not at a restaurant?” I ask.

Cameron starts slicing mushrooms and peppers as he answers me, “Because that’s exactly what you were expecting.”

He’s certainly got me there. I shrug. “I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect to be honest. I was coerced into coming on this date.” My tone takes on a teasing quality and I playfully roll my eyes to show my false exasperation.

Cameron accidentally drops the knife that was in his hand and looks at me. “I can take you home, if you don’t want to be here.” He’s serious. Worry flits across his eyes and I immediately feel guilty for putting it there, for making him think that I don’t want to be here.

Giving him a warm, reassuring smile, I reply, “There’s no other place I’d rather be.”

It’s only half a lie, because as enthralled as I am being here with Cameron, my thoughts are never far away from the two year old angel tucked away safely in her bed. But he doesn’t know about her yet and I can’t deny that I’m enjoying a night out of the house.

His shoulders relax and he continues cutting and slicing. He does it with speed and precision, as if he’s done this before. He looks like a chef.

“You enjoy this,” I state. It’s on his face, the way he moves around the kitchen.

Cameron’s lips tilt into a half-smile but he’s eyes don’t look up. “I love it,” he replies.

“Then why are you studying Business Management?”

He sighs. “Because I’m supposed to take over my father’s construction company once I graduate.”

“Is that what you want or what your parents want?”

Cameron shrugs, looking uncomfortable, and I get the impression that this topic is better left untouched. The mood has sombred slightly and I don’t like it. I want the relaxed, fun Cameron back. I stand up and join Cameron in front of the stove where he’s started mixing ingredients.

“Taste this,” he says, lifting a wooden spoon to my mouth. His eyes follow my mouth as it wraps around the tip of the spoon.

“Oh wow,” I say. “That’s delicious. What is it?”

I lick my lips and Cameron’s eyes darken. “Caramelized onion and honey sauce.”

He goes back to mixing ingredients and then takes out four foil packages from the oven. I watch him open them, my mouth watering when the divine scent floats around us. Nestled inside each foil packet is a grilled chicken breast, stuffed with feta cheese and spinach. My stomach growls and Cameron and I both laugh.

“Take a seat,” he instructs, coming around the island. He places a chicken breast on my plate, drizzling some of the caramelized onion and honey sauce over it, and then dishes up a mushroom and sweet pepper risotto. Once he’s placed food on his own plate, he takes out a fresh garden salad from the fridge.

“This looks amazing, Cam,” I praise. I see a faint color in his cheeks and stifle a giggle. He’s blushing?

“Thank you,” he mumbles. “I’ve never cooked dinner for anyone but my mom.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Really. Why does that surprise you?”

Shrugging sheepishly, I reply, “I guess I thought that this was regular thing, that you did this on all of your ‘dates’”.

Now it’s Cameron who looks sheepish. “No, you’re the first.”

“Oh.” I take a sip of my sparkling wine hoping it will calm the nerves dancing around in my belly. So far, nothing has been what I expected and I’m not sure how I feel about all of it. It suddenly feels like more than just another date.