Deborah Mello - Always Means Forever

“It won’t be. It’s Darwin and he’s related to Mecan, and my Mac…well, you get the idea,” she said with a wide grin.

Bridget rolled her eyes.

“It’s not Darwin I’m worried about. What if I do something to turn him off? I might take my clothes off and he sees that I have cellulite on my thighs, or my breasts are too small, or…”

“Give it a rest!” Jeneva exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. “Darwin likes you. If and when you two ever get naked with each other he will love everything about you. Trust that. Now go get dressed or you’re going to be late. And hurry up so I can see you before I have to take the girl home so her daddy can spoil her some before her bedtime.”

Bridget heaved another deep sigh and reached for her dress. “If you say so.”

As she headed toward the adjoining bathroom she turned back toward her friend and smiled. “Thanks, Jay. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Bridget maneuvered her car through downtown Seattle toward the district of Madronas where Darwin lived. His directions were precise, right down to the mileage. She took the left and right turns onto Aurora and Denny Way, crossing over to Boren and Pike Streets until she pulled in front of his condominium unit.

The buildings were new Craftsman-styled townhomes with lots of curb appeal. The neighborhood was immaculate and decidedly upscale. There was an abundance of neighbor-friendly activity in the area and Bridget noted the couples and families out for an evening’s stroll or headed toward the quaint shopping district.

Easing out of her car, she hesitated for just a quick minute, pausing to adjust the back of her mint-green, A-line shift neatly against the length of her body. Her nerves had kicked into high gear somewhere around the intersection of 15th Avenue and Union Street. She felt nauseous, her stomach twisting in one hundred different directions. Good sense told her she was being foolish, but in that moment, anxiety was prevailing.

She hesitated one last time just before pushing the doorbell with a freshly manicured index finger. Darwin and the cutest Maltese puppy greeted her. Both seemed overly excited to see her and the minute Darwin smiled, her name floating over his lips, she felt at ease.

“Bridget, welcome,” the man gushed, the small dog squirming anxiously in his arms. “Come on in.” Darwin leaned to press a quick kiss on her cheek and Bridget suddenly thought about Alexa.

“Thank you. Who is this?” she asked, reaching to take the animal out of his grip. Pulling the bundle of fur to her chest, she hugged it easily, the dog’s exuberance igniting her own.

“That’s my guard dog. Her name’s Biscuit.”

“Hi, Biscuit. Aren’t you too cute!”

Biscuit yipped, delighted by the attention.

“I didn’t know if you liked pets or not. I was just about to lock her in my bedroom.”

“Don’t you dare! I love dogs. If I had the time to care for them I’d have two or three myself. I’m not partial to cats though,” she said, making a face.

Darwin found the gesture amusing and he chuckled, leading her into a tastefully decorated family room that was situated adjacent to an open kitchen area. Taking a quick glance around the space, Bridget was impressed with the custom cherry cabinets, stainless steel appliances and solid granite counters. Shiny, copper-bottomed pots hung from an intricate rack on the ceiling. They gleamed beneath the warm lighting, looking as if they’d never been used. The rich color of the Brazilian cherry floors also made a nice impression, and Darwin’s tastes were very simple, an eclectic mix of artifacts from his travels around the world.

Her eye was drawn to the painting over his fireplace and as she stood staring at it, the puppy cuddling comfortably against her chest, she could only shake her head.

“Why didn’t you tell me you collected Holston? That’s a wonderful piece!” she exclaimed, turning to stare at the man.

Darwin shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you. In fact, I actually tried to buy the one you have in your living room. You beat me to it. I ended up getting the one that’s in my bedroom instead. I’ll give you a tour later on so you can see it.”

She nodded as he gestured toward a plush recliner in the corner of the room. Just as Bridget moved to take a seat he stopped her. “That’s Biscuit’s favorite spot. Just drop her there.”

Bridget laughed. “Okay,” she said as she placed the dog on top of a pillow and watched as she settled herself comfortably down.

Darwin gave her a quick wink. “You can’t get comfortable yet. We have a meal to make. So, as soon as you wash your hands we can get started. I’m hungry.”

Bridget looked surprised, her mouth open slightly as she stood staring at him. “What happened to you cooking me dinner?”

The man’s warm laughter made her smile, a wide grin filling her face.

“I am cooking. You’re just going to help.” He pointed to the sink. “There’s plenty of soap in that dispenser,” he quipped, moving to wash his own hands.

As Bridget moved to his side, he continued talking. “When you’re cooking, it’s important to pay attention to basics such as hand-washing, proper storage temperatures and cleanliness. Food safety is critical. You don’t want to risk making anyone sick.”

“Really,” Bridget said with an eye roll, tossing him an annoyed look.

Darwin grinned down at her, the heat from his broad body spreading to her own. Shutting off the water, he pulled her hands into his, gently wiping away the dampness with a cotton towel. Bridget’s gaze met his as he brushed the soft fabric across her palms. “Most definitely,” he said, his voice dropping a half octave.

“So,” Bridget said, her voice cracking slightly as she moved to withdraw her hands from his, sidestepping her sudden wanting. “What are we cooking?”

Darwin chuckled. “Salad. You cut the tomatoes and I’ll prep the lettuce.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I kid? Are you afraid to make salad?”

Bridget raised her eyebrows. “No. I can make salad.”

“Good. We need a nice leafy vegetable to go with the beef short ribs and the corn bread.”

“I’m not cooking the ribs and the corn bread, I hope?”

“Oh, heck, no! Didn’t you tell me you could burn water?”

Bridget swatted a hand in his direction. “You’re not funny, Darwin. You’re not funny at all.”

The two laughed, chatting easily together as they put the finishing touches on the meal. Their conversation flowed like water, the joy of Bridget’s laugh warming his spirit. As they sat down to dinner he discovered they had much in common. Bridget was a jazz buff, her knowledge as proficient as his. They admired and collected the same visual artists, and she was an avid football fan, the Seattle Seahawks her favorite team. The mutual interest could make for some interesting Monday-night football games, he mused.

Bridget grinned as if thinking the same thing. She broke off a small piece of her cornbread and dipped it into a line of brown gravy that covered her plate. Lifting the delicacy to her mouth she ate it with gusto, even pausing to lick the tips of her fingers. She hummed softly and Darwin grinned back.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal,” he said, chuckling warmly.

“It’s very good,” she responded, laughter shimmering in her eyes. “I guess you can tell I do like to eat.”

“I like a woman who attacks her plate with such enthusiasm.”

Bridget laughed. “I don’t play when it comes to my food so you tease all you want, Darwin Tolliver. Your cute comments don’t faze me in the least.”

“What!” the man responded, feigning ignorance. “I was being serious. I wasn’t teasing.”