At just after seven that night, Jenna went across the hall to Jackson’s place. She had heard him come home at half past five and thought he might need a little more time. However, once the aroma of whatever he was preparing wafted over to her, she knew he was ready for her.
Good thing, too, because she was ready for him..
“You’re right on time,” Jackson said at the door. “I just took dinner out of the oven.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. I have a few finishing touches. Make yourself at home.”
Jenna did just that. Despite the fact that she had been in his home a few times already, she never looked around. A beautiful painting over the fireplace she hadn’t noticed before caught her attention. She was looking for the name of the artist when Jackson walked up next to her.
“It’s one of Monet’s Water Lilies.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jenna commented. “The use of color is spectacular. I’ve never been a fan of dark shades in artwork, or Impressionism for that matter, but this is rather well put together.”
“I think so. Dinner’s ready, if you’re hungry, that is.”
Jenna turned to face him. “I’m starved,” she replied staring into those crystal eyes.
His eyes locked with hers and held it a moment too long. Her face was only a few short inches from his and she felt her breath snag in her throat. Rather than gapping the distance with a kiss, he turned away and led her into the dining room. She was slightly disappointed he didn’t take advantage of the opportunity she had given him.
A moment later her disappointment turned to surprise. The dining room was lit only by two taper candles on the table. She watched as Jackson crossed the room to the kitchen and momentarily disappeared. When he returned, he had a single stem red rose in his hand.
“For you,” he said as he handed the flower to her.
Jenna looked around the room in utter amazement. “What is all this?”
“I wanted you to have the true Jackson Caldwell dining experience,” he replied as he pulled out a chair for Jenna.
A bit in awe, Jenna sat. In front of her was a plate full of salad greens and pecans. She took a bite and was surprised at how good the combination was.
“Where did you get this dressing, Jackson? It’s wonderful.”
“I made it.”
“You did not.”
“I most certainly did and if you aren’t careful I’ll never tell you how.”
“I’ll be good,” Jenna promised as she continued eating the salad.
No sooner than Jenna set down her fork after taking her last bite, Jackson picked up their plates and whisked them into the kitchen. As quickly as he had left he returned with two more plates and a basket of crusty French bread. He gave her a quick smile as he set her plate before her.
“I hope there is no rule against chicken,” he joked.
“Unless you’ve basted it with shrimp gravy, I think we’re fine. This all looks wonderful, Jackson. I don’t know how you ever had time to do all of this.”
“That will have to be my little secret. Dig in. I’m anxious to find out what you think.”
Jenna scrutinized her plate. Everything looked good; she didn’t quite know what to try first. There was baked chicken with steamed vegetables, but she was certain after the salad it wouldn’t be that simple. Her instincts had been correct, she realized once she took her first bite. The chicken was marinated and basted with some sort of a white wine sauce, but she couldn’t place the other mixture of flavors. The vegetables must have been steamed with the same sauce, based on the flavor. To round out the meal were mushroom-garlic mashed potatoes, a flavor she knew well.
“Condensed soup?”
Jackson threw up his hands as he conceded, “You caught me. I spent so much time on the chicken and the salad dressing that I ran out of time for the potatoes. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jenna smiled at him from behind lowered lashes. “Not at all, but you should know I was just teasing you at the grocery store about your cooking ability. You didn’t have to go all out to prove me wrong.”
“I didn’t,” Jackson began as he refilled her glass of white wine. “I haven’t treated myself in so long I thought it would be a nice excuse to make an old favorite of mine.”
Jenna reached for her glass. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. How do you know I’m not trying to get you drunk?” He winked.
“Easy. You wouldn’t be giving me wine if you wanted me drunk. I have a high tolerance for it. Besides, why ever would you want me drunk, Mr. Caldwell?”
Jenna phrased her question as a joke, but wanted desperately to know the answer.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he joked back.
She made a mental note to never ask a question she wanted answered as a joke again as she continued eating. A few times during the course of the meal, Jenna thought she felt Jackson’s calf brush up against hers, but she dismissed it as nothing more than a lack of space under his cozy dining room table. With the exception of his few fleeting jokes, he’d given her no indication he was interested in romance. Unfortunately, romance had been on her mind since they met.
“So Jenna, how long have you known…what was his name…Chad?”
“I met him when we were in the ninth grade. He was so shy and awkward at that age that, well, I guess I felt sorry for him. I had been in the same district since I started school and he had just moved to town. It didn’t seem like he was having an easy time making friends and the jocks were always picking on him.”
“That was nice of you,” he commented.
“I suppose. We stayed friends throughout high school.” Jenna began to laugh as she had a sudden memory. “We even made this pact.”
“Pact?”
© 2009, Sydney Katt. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of content will result in dragon attacks.
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