CHAPTER SIXTEEN

-:- JIG -:-

Where can I take Kenzie on a second date? That thought keeps rolling around my mind like one of those tumbleweeds in an old Western movie. She’s rubbing off on me already. When do I make references to movies? I should look up some famous movie quotes and try to slip them into our conversations.

Getting a call from Sara today was a surprise and a pleasant one. I’m so glad Evan is okay, and hearing that he and his Gramps are getting on so well was great. It sounded like he’s got a superb role model there, and that’s what I hoped for when she said that was where she was going to take him.

When Fist finishes work tonight, he’s going over to Richard’s to get the stroller’s base coat applied. We’ve rigged up a tent so when he spray paints, he won’t have to worry too much about the dust. I’ve asked Richard to stay out of the garage from now on so that he doesn’t stir any dust up, but truth be told, I don’t want him seeing the finished stroller before I do the reveal to Mia.

Working on the vehicle Grease has assigned to me, I wonder if he’s done it on purpose. It’s a bit of a junker and it needs an oil change, filters, and such, but it needs new seals in places as well. It’s definitely a filthy job.

I apologized to Raven and gave her an explanation for the hero stuff. She accepted my apology, but things are still a little frosty, I have to say. I normally have music blaring out in the workshop, as I like it loud. I know it drives the others mad at times, so I do it as much to wind them up as anything. Today I’ve put their kind of ‘pop’ music channel on, rather than my hard rock, and turned it down a bit, too. I think I’m getting soft in my old age.

Anyway, I think Grease is going to be giving me the dirty, crappy jobs for a while. Hey Ho. If he wants to be that childish, I’ll just be the bigger man and let it roll off my back.

Where can I take Kenzie for a second date? I said it would be just the two of us and romantic. Hmmm. Romantic, eh? Me and my big mouth.

“Hey, Cora. Romantic date for two?”

“Are you mad? Finally lost the plot? What makes you think I’d want to go on a romantic date with you?” She looks at me in abject horror.

“Not me and you, idiot. Suggestions for a romantic date for two, as in me and Kenzie.”

“Oh, thank God, I was already working on my resignation.”

“I couldn’t date you, Cora, you’re a mate, as in friend, coworker, buddy. You wouldn’t even be ‘friends with benefits’, I could never see you that way. Ewww. That’s just nasty.”

“Well, Jig. I think that’s a compliment, although a bit of a two-edged sword kinda compliment. I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask when it comes to ‘romantic’. I’m a bit more ‘high octane’ rather than unleaded, if you get what I mean. I’d rather go bowling, or watch an ice hockey game than wear a dress in a fancy restaurant.”

“You don’t strike me as the bowling type. It’s a bit ‘old person's sport’ for you, isn’t it?”

“Ten-pin bowling, you dummy. Being in love doesn’t suit you, Jig. Your heads all messed up.” Cora looks at me for a few seconds, shaking her head, then goes back to work.

“Raven, any suggestions?”

“Be yourself, Jig. Can you cook? Make her a meal at the cabin.”

“Is that romantic, though? I can cook for myself okay, not sure if I’d say ‘gourmet’ though.”

“Can you cook ribs or a meatloaf? Boil some potatoes? Steam some vegetables? Dessert you can buy, or get Meat to help. Or better still, speak to Cookie for the dessert. A good home cooked meal takes time and effort to prepare and get right. If you ask me, that’s the way to go, just an opinion though. You go with whatever you decide.”

“Oh, I like that, Raven, you are a relationship guru. You should offer your services professionally.” I rub my hands together as I think about how to get the ball rolling.

“That’ll be fifty dollars for the first consultation,” Raven grins and I see some of the frost between us melt.

“Put it on my tab, I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll be coming to you again.” Getting my head back on to my filthy task, I hum. I have no idea what it is I’m humming, just something random I must have picked up from somewhere. Laying under the vehicle changing the sump gasket, someone kicks my leg, none too gently, I might add. Sliding out, I see Cora standing over me.

“I like that you’re happy, I’m ok with you being all loved up. But if you keep humming the start of the theme from ‘Dallas’ over and over, I’m going to drop this engine on you from a great height. Hum all you want, but at least hum the whole damn thing.” Walking away muttering to herself, I see Raven looking at me, nodding her head.

Getting this filthy job finished, I put it out back in its designated spot, then get washed up. Having a home so close to work is great. I mean, I used to be closer when I had a room in the garage house next door, but the cabin has quickly become my home. There are things I’d like to update, like the kitchen, bathroom, and the décor, but nothing that can’t wait.

Heading out on my hog for the store, I try to make a mental list of things I need for a home-cooked meal tonight. I don’t have time to cook ribs so it will have to be something quicker. Meatloaf is out too. A good steak. Can’t go wrong with a wonderful steak dinner.

Hitting the store, I grab fresh vegetables that I can steam. Broccoli, carrots, and beans. They also have some nice large potatoes that should mash nicely with cream and butter.

The meat counter, at last. The key ingredient, the steak, needs to be the showstopper. My eyes scan all the cuts of beef, and they all look fabulous. The lady server waits for a minute and then asks if I’d like any help. Giving her a brief insight into the meal and its purpose, she leans onto the counter and pulls out two steaks.

“I’d go for T-bone steak as it practically cooks itself. Stays juicy and has masses of flavor. I don’t think you can go wrong with that.”

Thanking her, I head for the register to pay. As I’m waiting, the lady from the meat counter taps me on the shoulder.

“You should take a couple of bottles of this red wine. It will be an excellent accompaniment to your meal.” Thanking her again, I take the bottles from her.

Back home, I send Kenzie a text to ring me when she has time. I don’t want to disturb her at work, especially as she told me about the issues she’s having there with the women from Saturday.

Showered and changed, I feel a bit more human after the stink of the old oil and the dust from the garage floor. Getting the meal prepared doesn’t take too long at all, and I’m pleasantly surprised at how quickly I get things done. I know I can prepare vegetables, but I do it without thinking, as do most people, I suppose. When you actually take notice of what and how you’re doing things, it’s surprising the skills and knowledge you pick up without realizing it.

My phone rings and I grab it quickly. “Hi, Beautiful. How’s your day going?”

“Fine thanks, handsome. How’s yours?” Not recognizing the voice, I look at my phone. The caller ID says ‘Cookie’.

“Cookie, sorry. I was expecting someone else.”

“Go ahead and spoil it, why don’t you. Raven called and said you might need my help with something? So, what do you need?”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m cooking a meal for someone tonight and I need a dessert. Do you have anything there and ready to go that I could pick up?”

“Leave it with me and I’ll ring you.”

Five minutes later, and Cookie rings back. I know it’s Cookie because I check first before picking up.

“What are you cooking? I forgot to ask.”

“T-bone steak, steamed veg, mashed potatoes,” I tell her quickly.

“Right. I’ve got an hour before I finish. I’ve got the perfect dessert in mind. Send me your address. I’ll drop it off on my way home.”

“You’re an angel, Cookie. I owe you one.”

“Consider this a freebie. Sounds like this could be the real thing for you, Jig. See you in an hour or so.”

Cookie’s not the first to say that. Is it gossip, or have I changed so much in such a short period?

Kenzie rings, and I invite her for our second date. Asking what she should wear, I tell her smart casual. She says she’ll be a couple of hours as she hasn’t finished work yet, needs to go home, shower, change, then drive over here. I’m smiling as I listen to all this. It’s obvious what she’s telling me, but I’m quite happy to listen to her voice. If someone had talked like this a couple of weeks ago, I’d have told them to stop waffling and get on with it! Telling me she’ll see me later, she kills the call.

Checking all the downstairs rooms are neat and tidy, I’m happy with what I see. Doubting that we’ll be needing the upstairs rooms, I‘m not going to check but think better of it. Not that I’m going to push for anything, but the bathroom is upstairs. Once I’m happy that my home is more than presentable, I check the time.

A vehicle sounding its horn has me look out the front window. Seeing Cookie waving from the driver's window, I hurry out to her.

“Everything ok?” I ask as she lowers the window.

“I’ve had a hell of a time getting here and not dropping these things. Here. Take them. What happens to them now is up to you.”

Leaning over to her passenger seat, she grabs something that tinkles. Passing me two large champagne flutes, I stare at them. “They look stunning, Cookie. What are they?”

“White and milk chocolate mousse topped with strawberry, blueberry and edible sparkles. Enjoy. Let me know how the evening goes. Only as far as the meal’s concerned. Not the rest.” Her window closes, and she winks at me as she drives away.

A wink? Winking is a Star thing. I think she infects everyone she meets with some form of Britishism. Back in the cabin, I put the mousse in the fridge.

My phone bleeps, and I check for messages. I see Fist has sent a picture of the stroller in its base coat, it could almost be presented as it is. The final paint job and graphics are going to make it a force to be reckoned with! This really has been a labor of love, and I’m so glad I took it on.

Hearing a knock at the door, I give myself a quick check in the hallway mirror. What the hell? I must get a grip on myself, I think. Opening the door, I see Kenzie standing there, 5’ 9” and in all her glory, I catch my breath. Her dark blonde hair is in a long-plaited ponytail with loose wisps down the sides of her face, like a frame. Her dark blue eyes and long lashes are highlighted by her make-up, and her lips are shining, looking moist, almost wet. Her white blouse is buttoned high enough to give just a hint of cleavage. Blue jeans that show off her hips, the ones that mesmerized me at TJs, lead down to a pair of cowboy boots with enough heel to be both practical and sexy as hell, all at the same time.

Lifting her hand, she lifts my chin and closes my mouth. “I take it you approve of my smart casual attire?”

“Oh yes, you look stunning. You just get ever more beautiful each time I see you.”

“Not sure if ‘ever more beautiful’ is a thing, but I’ll take that any day. Now that the neighborhood knows I’m here, do you think I could come in, or are we going someplace else?”

“Oh, of course, come in. I thought we’d have a meal here which I cooked and prepared for you, with my own hands.”

Following her to the kitchen, I get caught again staring at her ass, and the way her hips sway as she walks. As I cook the meal, I throw on an apron that’s been hanging from the oven door since I moved in. It’s just to protect my decent clothes, as I’m a bit of a splasher when it comes to cooking.

Chatting away while getting everything on the go, I remember the red wine. Grabbing a couple of glasses from a cabinet, I pour us both half a glass. We talk about day-to-day stuff and stray into our past histories. Learning a lot about each other in a short space of time. When she tells me about her last phone call from her brother, Flynn, I get quite angry. Also telling me he made her cry, I’m on my feet in seconds holding her and stroking her hair.

Kissing Kenzie’s forehead, I ask if she’s okay, and when she gives me a nod, I turn when I hear the timer on my counter ping to tell me the vegetables and potatoes should be ready. Mashing the potatoes with cream and butter and serving up the rest of the meal takes only a few seconds. We carry on talking and enjoying the wine throughout the meal.

Telling her about Lina has her stop eating and looking at me sternly.

“Jig… Am I a rebound? Is that what this is? You’ve been rejected and I come along?”

“What, a rebound? Certainly not. I wasn’t expecting to find my soulmate, not soon, not ever. I’d already resigned myself to being alone, and you have turned my world upside down. I do things I would never have dreamed of a week ago. Hell, I stopped and checked myself in the damn mirror in the hallway before I answered the door. What man does that?”

“Obviously the same man that wears an apron that has, I kiss better than I cook, written on it.”

Realizing I’m still wearing the apron, I jump up and tear it off. Turning it so I can see the front, I get to read it. “Oh my God, what is Amelia doing with an apron with this written on it?”

“Your mother's apron? That’s flimsy, don’t you think? How long have you been living here now?”

“She’s not my…” Seeing her eyes sparkling and her lips quivering, I see that I’m being played. “Hilarious, and it’s not my apron, either.”

“Oh, that’s such a shame as your cooking was above average…”

Walking over to me, she places a hand on the back of my neck and pulls my lips to hers. When we finally pull apart, we are both gasping for breath.