When he came out dressed, I said, "I'm tired of eating out. I don't want to go."
Without even a moment's hesitation, he turned his head and made his way into the kitchen.
I followed, leaning against the kitchen doorframe to watch him wash and cook.
No matter what, a handsome man was always a sight to behold, no matter the task at hand.
By the time the three dishes and the soup were ready, I had completely forgotten the times he had been a pain in my neck.
Halfway through the meal, I even asked him, "Can I still come over for dinner?"
"I rarely cook," Caleb replied.
The light in my eyes dimmed.
He added meaningfully, "I suppose I could reluctantly cook a few more times if that's what you want."
Reluctantly, really?
Why did I get the sense of a boyfriend pampering his girlfriend?
I didn't overthink it, did I?
After we finished our meal, Caleb mentioned he was going to take out the trash and asked if I'd like to join him for an after-dinner stroll.
My head was a mess of X-rated daydreams that really that really needed some clearing out.
But as soon as we started our walk—before we could even think about holding hands—his parents, Daniel and Jean, showed up out of the blue.