CHAPTER 124 — After a Short Absence

CHAPTER 124 — After a Short Absence

Lisa's POV

I hear his car in the driveway and my heart instantly starts racing.

He's home.

I have been counting down the hours since his text this morning, watching the clock like I was a teenager waiting for prom. It’s crazy — he’s only been gone since morning, not even a full day — but I’ve missed him this much and it surprises me every single time.

There’s the front door opening and I’m already on my way to meet whoever it is, leaving behind the chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Lisa?” His voice echoes through the house and just the noise of it makes me grin.

“In the kitchen!” I yell as I dry my hands on a towel.

"Hi," he says and it’s a soft, intimate word, as if we’re sharing a secret.

"Hi," I say but then I’m already on the move, closing the gap between us in three jabbing steps.

He grabs me as I get to him, and his arms are immediately, and I mean immediately, around me as he lifts me just a tad off the ground. I throw my arms around his neck and our lips meet in a kiss that is as much a greeting as it is a hungry one. 

God, I’ve missed this. Missed him. The solidity of him, the taste of him, the way he holds me as if I am something both precious and necessary.

"Missed you," he murmurs against my lips as we pause between kisses. "All day."

"I miss you too,”

His hands move down to my hips. Heat rushes through me, desire twisting tight and immediate in my stomach.

“Lisa,” he groans as his mouth finds my neck. "Want you. I’ve been thinking about you all day."

“Me too,” I gasp as his teeth catch that sensitive spot just beneath my ear. "Leo—"

His fingers are already beneath my shirt, warm palms on my bare skin, and I’m seriously thinking about just skipping dinner when reality comes crashing back. 

"Yeah, for real." I place a hand on his chest, sensing his heart beat pounding under my palm. "Delayed gratification is going to make everything better, trust me."

His eyes darken still more. "You're killing me."

"I'm going to make it worth the wait," I assure him, rising on my toes to place another slow and full of promise kiss on his lips. "In a little while. I'll have dinner ready in twenty minutes."

He groans but lets go of me, although his hands stay on my hips for a few more seconds. 

"You're wicked."

"You love it."

He’s just being pedantic. "Twenty minutes?"

"Twenty minutes."

He began to make his way up the stairs, then turned around at the doorframe and looked back at me. The heat in his eyes almost makes me freak out and change my mind about the whole shower thing.

"I'm not going to take that long with dinner," he tells me, his voice rough with need. "I have plans for tonight."

"Oh?" I try to sound casual as my heartbeat escalates under my ribs. "What kind of plans?"

His smile is wicked and promising. "The kind that involves you, me, and that perfectly made bed you told me about."

Heat floods through me at the brief insinuation, at the promise within his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely." He takes a step back toward the stairs."So hurry up with dinner, I’m going to thoroughly dirty those clean sheets you plied me with this morning." 

“Leo,” I laugh, feeling my flushed cheeks. “Go shower before I change my mind about having you wait.”

His grin stretches further. “Yes, ma’am.”

He'd be back in no time. I am flushed and gasping for breath and counting down the seconds until he’s back.

Get it together, Lisa, I tell myself harshly as I turn back to the counter. Finish dinner. Then you can jump him.

I’m all set to get down to business. The veggies are chopped in no time and dumped into the skillet with garlic and oil. The sizzle fills the kitchen with a tantalizing scent that makes my stomach growl—I realize I didn’t eat much for lunch, too lost in my thoughts about Leo returning home.

I’d already marinated chicken earlier–another indication of how completely I’d been expecting his return–so that goes into another pan. The rice cooker is on, and the steam comes up in soft puffs, the light is telling It's soon to be.

I hear the shower turn on above me, and instantly my brain fills my head with helpful pictures of Leo in the shower, water cascading over his body, soap moving along skin I’ve memorized with my hands and mouth. The way water would flow down his chest, his back, his every muscle.

Focus, I command myself, but I'm smiling as I stir the vegetables. 

The chicken has to be turned. I do move with caution, bracing myself for the other side to meet the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. The scent is outstanding — garlic, herbs, the char of perfectly cooked meat. My mouth waters.

I wonder if we’ll actually make it through dinner this time, or if we’ll quit halfway through as we did last night. It makes me grin to remember.

I take out the good placemats — not the fancy ones, but the nice everyday ones that make meals feel special without being formal. I place them carefully on the table and I smooth out a crumple at one corner. Then plates, silverware To the right just so, wine glasses because we both need to relax after the day.

The chicken is just right when I peek—golden-brown with those pretty grill marks cooked through but still juicy. I place it on a serving plate and then the vegetables around it. 

The rice cooker signals its finish, and I fluff the rice with a fork before I fill a bowl.

Everything looks beautiful. Smells even better.
I pour wine into two glasses, the rich red catching the light as it pours. As I lay them on the table, I take a step back and look at what I have done. It looks good—casual but considered, the type of dinner that says I care but without too much fuss. The kind of food that says welcome home, I missed you, I'm happy you’re here.

The shower has been turned off above me, I can hear it. My heartbeat speeds up.

Perfect timing.

I can just see him drying himself off right now, slipping into comfortable clothes—those soft sweatpants I adore, possibly just that and nothing else. The picture warms me from inside out.
Not much longer now.

I place the candle in the middle of the table — a late inclusion, but it brings a nice ambience to the table. The flame flickers and throws undulating shadows over the plates.

My phone buzzes on the counter.

The noise startles me minimally, ripping me from my Leo-centric musings. I look at it, and the screen shows me a call.

Unknown number.

I pause. It’s probably spam — some robocall about my car’s extended warranty or a problem with my computer. I should just let it go to voicemail.

But I’m drawn to it. Maybe it’s the good mood I’m in, the anticipation humming through my veins. Maybe I'm feeling generous towards the earth. Maybe I am just distracted, my thoughts still half on the feast I have cooked and the man upstairs who will be down any minute. I lift the receiver, swiping to answer as a reflex. 

“Hello?” I say, and my voice is bright and cheerful, still holding the joy and excitement of the last 30 minutes. 

I’m still wrapped in the heat of knowing that Leo is home, that we have the entire night in front of us, that life is nice and full and wholly what I want it to be.

There's a pause on the other end.

Then a voice begins to speak. 

And in the space of a heartbeat—less than that, maybe just a single breath—my smile melts away…