Chapter 4
1366 Words
Stella
Parking at the grocery store, I realize I have less time than I thought, but I know I can make this work. Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I walk in quickly, grabbing a cart.
“Hey Belle, what's up?"
My aunt Blaze is the person I go to for advice when I don't want the motherly type. When I want someone who sees me as a woman, realizes I have relationships, and I'm an adult, she's the very first person I call. Luckily for me, my mom respects that about us and never seems to have an issue. For that, I'm completely grateful.
“Hey, if I want to cook dinner for a guy, what should I get?"
“Do I know this guy?"
I can't help but smile. “You might, you might not, I'm pleading the fifth right now. I'm not sure what's going to happen with it. It could just be dinner tonight, or it could turn into something else, I don't know."
“If you're worried about cooking him something good, I'm betting it's more than dinner tonight. You forget I know you."
She does know me, but right now I don't want to be analyzed, I just want her advice.
“He works out, cares for his body, and is in a physically demanding job," I prompt her.
“Girl, is he cut?"
I giggle, leave it to Blaze to break it down. “Yes." I think of the last time I saw Ransom without a shirt on. It was a cookout at my grandparent's house, all of us were swimming and I'd had a hard time not looking at him – because I'd finally started to notice he was changing. “Yes, he is very cut."
“Okay, so he probably cares for himself. It's a nice night, even if it's hot. If he has a grill, why don't you get some steaks, shrimp, baked potatoes, and some asparagus? You can grill all of it."
I know for a fact Ransom does have a grill, he's invited us all over for get-togethers before. “Oh yes, sounds perfect! Thank you!"
“No problem, Belle. Have a good time, be safe, and let me know how it goes tomorrow."
My face burns. Even if she is the cool aunt, it still feels a bit awkward being so open with her. “Will do," I tell her, even though I know I won't tell her everything.
“Love you." She throws kissing noises into the phone.
“Love you too, tell Uncle Tank I said hi."
Disconnecting the call, I throw the phone in my purse and hit the produce section with a vengeance. Grabbing a bunch of asparagus and two potatoes, I turn my cart to the fresh meat section. Within minutes, I have two filets and some fresh shrimp packaged up.
“Dessert." I tap my finger against my chin.
Going over to the pastry section, I see a strawberry shortcake that literally makes my mouth water, and I happen to know that's Ransom's favorite. I do a quick stop in the spices section to get stuff to make a marinade and then pick up a six pack of Coronas along with some limes.
As I check out and make my way out to my car, I'm breathing hard and kind of tired as I load everything into the back. “Damn, I need to add more cardio at the gym." I push my cart over to the rack, but then I see all this only took me fifteen minutes and I give myself a pat on the back.
I'm about to leave when I notice a PetSmart beside the grocery store, and make a split-second decision. Jogging in, I go to the dog toys. I know Rambo has specific toys he can play with at work and home. That was another thing I'd learned at the cookout when I noticed Ransom's cut abdomen. Searching in my memory bank, I find a toy just like the one Ransom had that day for Rambo, that he'd destroyed when they'd played tug-of-war with it. Picking it up, I rush to the checkout, and within minutes, I'm on my way to Ransom's house.
* * *
To say I'm nervous is an understatement. I've cooked dinner for men before, but this feels so much more serious than it ever has. I pull into his driveway, and before I even have my car turned off, Ransom is coming out the front door toward me. A man should not be able to make a pair of shorts and a tank top look as hot as he does. The shorts fit just right as does the tank top, and there's something weirdly intimate about seeing him with flip flops on.
“You need help?" he asks as I get out and face him.
“Yeah, if you don't mind."
Together, we bring the bags inside. This isn't the first time I've been in Ransom's house, obviously, but it feels different than it ever has before.
“Strawberry fuckin' shortcake?" He groans as he pulls the container out of the shopping bag.
“Yes," I answer, a grin on my face as I hear his groan.
“Do you have a bowl I can use to make the marinade for the shrimp and steak?"
“My kitchen is yours." He points to one of the cabinets. “Middle shelf you'll find all the bowls, and there's Ziplocs in there, too."
“Great." I'm surprised to find his cabinets clean and organized. “Pretty impressed by your organization skills, Ransom," I tease as I find a bowl big enough for what I need.
“Don't be, that's totally my mom. She organized when she helped me move in, I've never touched it," he admits. “Most nights I eat at The Café."
“Makes sense, that's basically a homecooked meal for you."
“Yeah." He walks over to where he has a sliding glass door to this back porch. “I get to see my mom too, so it's a plus. I like to make sure she's doing good."
“You're a good son." I watch as he opens the door.
“My brother isn't grown up enough to take care of s**t for her and Dad, I like to make sure they aren't working too hard. One day Cutter will fulfill his destiny," he mentions his younger brother. “Rambo, come on in, buddy!"
I'm putting the marinade in some Ziplocs along with the meat, sticking them in the fridge. “That will need about an hour."
Rambo comes in barking, running through the kitchen and sliding on the tiled floor. When he sees me, he comes around, winding around my ankles.
“He remembers you." He stands back, leaning against his counter, folding his arms over his chest.
“Do you?" I kneel, scratching behind his ears. He picks that moment to lick my face, causing me to laugh.
“He does, he doesn't do that to everybody. He likes you."
“Then he's gonna love this." I stand up, walking over to the bag I got from the pet store, pulling it out, squeaking it loudly.
“Bub, look what she got you." Ransom pats his thighs, causing Rambo to prance excitedly on his feet.
“Wanna go outside and play with him while we wait for the meat to marinate? You can go ahead and get the potatoes ready and they can cook slow while the grill heats up," he offers.
“Yeah, I'd love to."
I know without a doubt winning over Rambo will be a big part of whatever relationship we decide to have.
“Let's go, bub." He makes a noise to Rambo, picks up the platter with the potatoes on it, and holds the door open for me. “Ladies first."
“Thanks." I give him a smile.
As I pass in front of him, I don't miss the way his eyes travel my body, feeling his gaze on my ass, which I know looks good in these cut-offs.
“No problem, Stelle, pleasure is all mine."
- Writer
