Chapter 22

“So,” Derek asks as he moves out of my way in the frenzy to get the right ingredients. “Are you going to tell me why you actually asked me to have dinner with you?”

I let my eyes lock with his and ask myself if I should be completely honest. I do enjoy the company whenever possible. But in truth, there’s more to it than that.

A sigh forms and I let my shoulders deflate.

“Honestly?” I ask him slowly.

“Yes, tell me the truth.”

I roll my eyes, attempting to stall as long as possible. He is just so handsome, and really, I have a motivation for asking him to dinner.

It’s not just because he’s my boss, or even because he’s my neighbor. I owe it to Derek that I’m still able to live a life.

“Because you deserve it?” I try, but I can’t help with the uptick of my voice, turning into a question.

“Deserve what?”

I let a low growl exit my throat in frustration.

“I feel like I owe you. I call you out to the bar and tell you about my divorce, and you take your precious time to speak with me while I ramble on about what to do and where to live.”

He doesn’t change anything, just keeps watching me, so I keep going.

“Not only did you give me a place to go while I went through this mess, but you also showed incredible kindness, and your girls honestly make my days a little brighter.”

“That I understand,” he replies, holding up his bottle as if to cheers me. “But I know there’s more.”

God, he’s good. Is this what it’s like to be a boss? Know how to read people, sift through the bullshit?

“You have done so much more for me the past few weeks than anyone has ever attempted to do for me in a lifetime. I’m just glad that I have such a kind and understanding boss slash neighbor.”

He walks behind, exhaling a small laugh from his nose as he goes. He eventually leans against a different section of the kitchen.

Meanwhile, I’ve already got the ingredients out, and I’m starting the recipe while I talk to Derek. It’s one of my favorite dishes, so I no longer rely on a recipe. It’s all become muscle memory.

“So why did you accept my invitation?” I counter right as Derek begins to take a swig of beer.

He pulls it away, trying to hold in his coughing for the beer that has most definitely tried to come out his nose.

I can’t help myself, and I burst out laughing at this image, which Derek soon follows. I laugh so hard that I’m clutching the sides of the counter and have my head down, and I think that alone was enough to break the ice.

“Oh God,” he says finally. “I think my nose is going to burn for the rest of my life.”

“Somehow, I think you’ll survive,” I insist, another round of laughs traveling between us.

“I accepted your invitation one because you absolutely insisted I join you, but also because you’ve done so much for the girls since you got here. It’s strange seeing them like someone as much as they like you.”

“They’re so sweet and fun,” I reply wholeheartedly.

“And also weapons of mass destruction!” Derek taunts.

“Whose idea was it to have two little girls, then?”

Derek leans his head back but shakes it back and forth. “Doesn’t matter about that, but what I will say is I’m so glad I have those two girls in my life.”

“I guess life would be boring without the sound of feet pattering on the floor followed by a shrill of laughter,” I muse, wishing that was my reality.

“Unless your dog is the one making the noise, and the shrill noise is actually the barks he makes to give out warnings.”

“You ruined my fun image!” I stick my tongue out. “How could you.”

“Simple, I’m an ass,” he deadpans, which, again, another round of laughs.

“I don’t know the last time I laughed like this in years,” I admit. “My friends are great, and up until the divorce, things were in something of a rut.”

A raised eyebrow from my boss. “Oh?”

“Things were just happening around me. Now, however, I’m the one who’s making things happen, and that alone is important to me.”

Derek puts down his beer bottle, crossing his arms over his large, muscular chest. God, what would it feel like to touch those phytons?

I shake my head at such an idea. No Derek to have, no muscles that keep you safe, none of that.

However, I immediately realize that I don’t see this side of Derek very often. He’s smiling, laughing, and even seems to be thinking back to his childhood.

“What’s happening in that brain?” Derek asks.

To which I respond automatically with, “Stocks and bonds of course. And also, the best store to rob candy from.”

He snorts again, and I know that he’s beginning to see why I might want to talk to him outside of his girls.

“Why don’t you find something to put on the TV?”

“Won’t that distract us?”

“Honestly? No, I have it on as white noise. Besides, you retain more information if you have it on daily, of course.”

“So, no news stories?” He taunts.

“That would be ideal,” I shoot back, cutting up the onions so that I can add them to the pan as I start the arborio rice.

“Okay, maybe some Peppa Pig then?”

I don’t even let him entertain the idea because before he’s even finished his sentence, I take back the remote from Derek.

“Seems as though you’re not to be trusted,” I taunt.

But the truth is, during my time at the company, we have always been surrounded by stress, deadlines, and exhausting information.

I wonder if this is a new chapter for him or just me or both of us.

“You underestimate me,” Derek shoots back.

I find a random channel playing some random movie and toss the remote on the couch.

“Are you going to be my sous chef or what?” I ask Derek as if I’m actually his boss.

But this is extraordinarily fun.

“Answer one more thing, and I’ll stop,” Derek replies with a look of want in his eyes. What’s wrong? Did I do something to upset him?

“Sure?” I say it more as a question, which Derek does seem to notice.

“Are you alright? Everything with Ryan must be pretty exhausting and difficult.”

Gone is the childlike wonder and mischief; in its place is the Derek Anderson I know, whose eyes seem kinder at this moment.

I’m honest with him. “It’s hard some days, and others, I’m glad he’s gone. Not a very straightforward answer, but that’s what I got.”

As I continue cooking, getting into a rhythm as I go, Derek and I mostly focus on the meal before us and don’t speak about personal thoughts again until we’re sitting back at the table together.

It feels like a much more intimate moment than I could have asked for in the short time I’ve gotten to know my boss better, and I’ve been shown that life isn’t all about a man who breaks your heart, even if it’s a struggle to feel that way.

“I can’t remember the last time someone cooked me dinner,” he expresses after a few bites. “This risotto is amazing.”

I push some blonde curls behind my ear. “Thank you! I really love to cook, so any chance I get I’m in the kitchen.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever expected that of you,” he replies.

“Really? Why?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

“I don’t really know? I don’t get that feeling from you, I guess.”

I take another bite of risotto and consider.

“I guess I didn’t get playful, silly Derek vibes off of you.”

“No one’s supposed to see that,” he murmurs.

“To protect you? Or your girls?”

He lifts his head to make direct eye contact, seemingly seeking something behind my face.

“Both.”

“Is that lonely?” I whisper.

His face falls just a little bit more, and he moves his gaze back to his plate.

“Incredibly.”