anything really happened between them last night. He brought her home from the hospital. He took care of the broken window last night and this morning, saving her the trouble and money on her insurance. He stayed last night so she wouldn’t be frightened, and he didn’t comment on her childish need to keep the hall light on while she slept.
She let out a sigh, remembering the kiss he planted on her forehead and the intensity in the look he gave her last night. She snuck a peek over her shoulder. He plated up several pancakes, swiped a knife through the butter, and spread it over the stack. He grabbed the foil-covered pan on the back of the stove and spooned out steaming eggs. He caught her watching him and smiled.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
The butterflies in her gut and the voice in her head nudging her to kiss him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making you breakfast.” He handed her the plate of food and turned back to the stove and prepared another plate for himself.
“Why?”
“I thought you might be hungry. You shouldn’t take those meds on an empty stomach.”
“Did you hear from the police about Dale?”
“They’re still looking for him.”
“So, that is why you’re here.”
“Get used to me hanging around. I’m not taking any chances he comes back to make good on his threat.”
“What if he sees you with me, it confirms his suspicions that I’m important to you, and he hurts me because of that?”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t be with me every minute of the day. You have work. I have work. We hardly know each other.”
“You’ll get to know me. Besides, even if they caught Dale today, I’d still want to spend time with you. How about dinner tonight?”
“You’re serious.”
“We’ll discuss it over breakfast. Come sit with me.”
He walked out of her kitchen and into the dining room and took a seat at her table. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d eaten there with guests. Most of the time, she sat at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. Alone.
She sat next to him and took a bite of the buttery pancakes and closed her eyes with a sigh. “These are outstanding.”
“Rain is the pancake maker in the family. The girls devour them most mornings. I paid attention. When you’re a long-time bachelor who lives miles from town, learning to cook is a necessity.
“Come up to the ranch tonight. I’ll barbeque up some steaks.” He looked sideways, considering something, and said, “I’ll take you out. We’ll have a nice quiet dinner in town before I bring you home tonight.”
“You don’t quit, do you?”
“It’s just dinner, Claire. We both need to eat. Besides, that smile you’re trying to hide tells me you don’t want me to quit.”
She hated to admit having a gorgeous man interested in her, making plans to take her to dinner, or—even better—cook for her made her want to smile. She liked Owen and his easygoing way. She didn’t feel pressured by his confident assertion that she’d fall in line with his meal plans. He somehow read in her that she’d like to spend the evening with him. Like he read her need not to be alone last night and stayed because she wanted him to.
Not ready for an intimate dinner with him at his home, she casually said, “How about Madeira’s in town.”
“I love Italian. It’s a date.”
Her stomach fluttered, and she gave in to the smile. “It’s a date.”
The first one she’d had in nearly a year. The last one she’d gone on because a friend set her up. What an awful experience that turned out to be. They had nothing in common, and the guy seemed to think dinner and drinks equaled sex in the front seat of his car.
Owen sat across from her casually eating his breakfast, making dinner plans, and glancing at her with that sexy gaze that told her how much he wanted her. She had no doubt he’d let her set the pace, but at no time would he back off.