Read Online Loving the White Liar by Kate Stewart - Free Book Online
Authors: Kate Stewart
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“You’re late, but the pie smells good, so you’re forgiven.” He took the burden from my hand as I followed him in.
Once the pie was on the counter he turned to me. “Thirsty?” I took in his bare feet, long athletic shorts, black wife-beater and was suddenly parched. He dressed super casual for our date and I appreciated every detail.
“Sure.”
“Beer? Tea? Water?”
“Tea,” I said, following him into his kitchen. His place was spotless, in a way that didn’t seem possible. I looked around and then at him. “You have a roommate, right?”
“Yeah, and it won’t last much longer. This is my place. I’m just letting him crash in between girlfriends. I’m not really the kind of guy who can handle a roommate.”
“I see. It’s so clean, I’m scared to put my purse down.”
He gave me a soft look over his shoulder. “I want you to feel at home.”
I dropped my purse on the floor to spite him then chuckled when he picked it up, handing me my tea. His lips brushed mine while he passed me to set it on the couch before resuming his work in the kitchen.
“Can I help?” I’d never really had a guy cook for me and was impressed so far. I swore I’d never again date an only child, but Jayden seemed the opposite of the mama’s boys I was used to. It seemed his mother taught him independence, how to keep a clean house, and cook. I was already applauding her with a standing ovation. My smile deepened when Jayden pulled a cut lemon wedge from a bowl in the fridge and dropped it in my tea.
“No, I’ve got this. Go have a seat. You can change the channel.” I made my way to the couch and took a look around, noticing he had simple taste. His furniture was absolutely stunning, and I knew he had made the coffee table and bookshelves. Looking toward the table on my right, I saw a beautifully carved, small wooden box. Picking it up, I studied it and realized Jayden had probably made it, as well. The wood was beautiful, deep red, and the carefully etched design in the trim made it apparent he’d spent several hours working on it.
“Pulling out all the stops with the cooking, huh?” I asked as I set the box down.
“I like my food better than half the shit in this city,” he called from the kitchen.
“Setting a high bar there, aren’t you?” I smirked into my tea, not giving a damn what was on TV. The Jayden show was ten times more entertaining. There was no way a man was this good and unattached. In a way that frightened me, so I just kept talking.
“What are we having?”
When he didn’t answer, I asked again.
He stopped what he was doing and poked his head out of the kitchen. “Sorry?”
“What are we having?”
“Oh, chicken casserole. My mom’s recipe. I didn’t even think to ask you if you like broccoli.”
“I do.” The minute I told him so his shoulders visibly relaxed. He seemed nervous and I found it adorable. He looked so gorgeous in his element, his rugged and cut features and perfectly toned arms accentuated by his stance. And of course the spatula in his hand was the best part. In that moment, I felt lucky to be with him. It was a good feeling, one that I hadn’t experience in far too long.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know,” was all he said before disappearing back into the kitchen where he completely ignored me the entire time he prepared our meal. I sat wondering what in the world I’d done to earn the silent treatment when he emerged minutes later with two piping hot plates and silverware wrapped napkins. I grabbed my plate, thanking him, and he smiled. “Do you mind if we eat at the couch?”
“Not at all,” I replied as the aroma of the casserole wafted up, making my mouth water.
Suddenly I was at ease after twenty odd minutes of silence. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV up. “I need the noise.”
Puzzled from his statement, I took a sip of tea. “Why?”
“I just feel more comfortable with it. I also need it when I
“You’re late, but the pie smells good, so you’re forgiven.” He took the burden from my hand as I followed him in.
Once the pie was on the counter he turned to me. “Thirsty?” I took in his bare feet, long athletic shorts, black wife-beater and was suddenly parched. He dressed super casual for our date and I appreciated every detail.
“Sure.”
“Beer? Tea? Water?”
“Tea,” I said, following him into his kitchen. His place was spotless, in a way that didn’t seem possible. I looked around and then at him. “You have a roommate, right?”
“Yeah, and it won’t last much longer. This is my place. I’m just letting him crash in between girlfriends. I’m not really the kind of guy who can handle a roommate.”
“I see. It’s so clean, I’m scared to put my purse down.”
He gave me a soft look over his shoulder. “I want you to feel at home.”
I dropped my purse on the floor to spite him then chuckled when he picked it up, handing me my tea. His lips brushed mine while he passed me to set it on the couch before resuming his work in the kitchen.
“Can I help?” I’d never really had a guy cook for me and was impressed so far. I swore I’d never again date an only child, but Jayden seemed the opposite of the mama’s boys I was used to. It seemed his mother taught him independence, how to keep a clean house, and cook. I was already applauding her with a standing ovation. My smile deepened when Jayden pulled a cut lemon wedge from a bowl in the fridge and dropped it in my tea.
“No, I’ve got this. Go have a seat. You can change the channel.” I made my way to the couch and took a look around, noticing he had simple taste. His furniture was absolutely stunning, and I knew he had made the coffee table and bookshelves. Looking toward the table on my right, I saw a beautifully carved, small wooden box. Picking it up, I studied it and realized Jayden had probably made it, as well. The wood was beautiful, deep red, and the carefully etched design in the trim made it apparent he’d spent several hours working on it.
“Pulling out all the stops with the cooking, huh?” I asked as I set the box down.
“I like my food better than half the shit in this city,” he called from the kitchen.
“Setting a high bar there, aren’t you?” I smirked into my tea, not giving a damn what was on TV. The Jayden show was ten times more entertaining. There was no way a man was this good and unattached. In a way that frightened me, so I just kept talking.
“What are we having?”
When he didn’t answer, I asked again.
He stopped what he was doing and poked his head out of the kitchen. “Sorry?”
“What are we having?”
“Oh, chicken casserole. My mom’s recipe. I didn’t even think to ask you if you like broccoli.”
“I do.” The minute I told him so his shoulders visibly relaxed. He seemed nervous and I found it adorable. He looked so gorgeous in his element, his rugged and cut features and perfectly toned arms accentuated by his stance. And of course the spatula in his hand was the best part. In that moment, I felt lucky to be with him. It was a good feeling, one that I hadn’t experience in far too long.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know,” was all he said before disappearing back into the kitchen where he completely ignored me the entire time he prepared our meal. I sat wondering what in the world I’d done to earn the silent treatment when he emerged minutes later with two piping hot plates and silverware wrapped napkins. I grabbed my plate, thanking him, and he smiled. “Do you mind if we eat at the couch?”
“Not at all,” I replied as the aroma of the casserole wafted up, making my mouth water.
Suddenly I was at ease after twenty odd minutes of silence. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV up. “I need the noise.”
Puzzled from his statement, I took a sip of tea. “Why?”
“I just feel more comfortable with it. I also need it when I
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