CHAPTER 10

Dean slicked his hair back and smoothed out his black dressed 3/4 sleeved shirt. He didn't want to be too fancy. He just wanted to keep it simple. Black dressed shirt, nice pair of blue jeans. Just his style. He ran his hands over his clean-shaven face before picking up the cologne and dabbing himself with it. Kayla was on her way to his apartment. He looked at the bathroom clock. 6:23. She would be here any moment now.

Dean went to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of red candlesticks and placed them in the holders on his dining table. He struck a match and lit the wick of the candles. He blew out the flame on the match and glanced at the table setting. Again. Simple. Two candles. Red napkins folded nicely with silverware nestled on top, red table cloth, and a bucket of ice cradling a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. He remembered Kayla didn't drink so he went with the alternative. The timer in the kitchen went off signaling that the alfredo pesto linguine with chicken was ready to be taken out of the oven. He walked over to the stove, oven mits on his hands, and opened the door to the oven. He pulled the dinner out of the oven, careful not to burn himself and sat it on the stove.

*DING-DONG*

Kayla was here. He removed his oven mits and sat them on the counter to his left. One last glance at the tablesetting, then he walked to the door. He took a deep breath and exhaled in hopes that it would help to calm his nerves. That worked. He opened the door revealing Kayla standing there. She wore her auburn hair loosely around her shoulders. She wore black dress slacks and a red silk button-down shirt. She looked very pretty. Uh-oh. The nerves were acting up again.

"Hi, Dean."

"Hello, Kayla. You look nice."

"Thank you. So do you."

"Thank you."

"I know you said 6:30, but I'm a few minutes early."

"That's alright with me. I just pulled supper out of the oven. Come on in."

The radio was playing softly in the background as Kayla and Dean were dining on their meal. They had just finished eating the main course and it was now time for desert. Dean went by Mrs. Anderson's bakery and picked up a couple slices of blackberry cobler. He warmed those up for a few minutes, then served them in bowls with a cold scoop of vanilla ice cream. Dean and Kayla sat and talked and laughed and reminisced. It was as if nothing ever changed.

"So do you still play guitar? I noticed your guitar case when I helped you unpack the other day."

"Off and on. I think of it as my escape from the world. There was always something about it. Just drifting away to the sounds of the notes being played." Dean picked up his glass to take a drink of the sparkling beverage. "It's my relaxation. I'm no Jimi Hendrix, but..."

"In my honest opinion, I think you are just as good as Jimi Hendrix."

Dean had to spit the contents of his drink back into his glass to keep from doing a spit take from laughing. "Wow. I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. I will also compliment on the meal tonight. It was fascinatingly delicious. Where did you learn how to cook?"

"Thank you. I learned from Gordon Ramsay."

Kayla cocked an eyebrow. "Really."

"No." Kayla chuckled. "I'm not usually intimidated. But if you step into the kitchen with that guy and he was teaching you a few tricks of the trade in cooking, and if you did something wrong causing him to drop expletives left and right, throwing insults in your face." Dean began his impersonation of the well-known chef with the British accent. "Dean, you ugly piece of garbage! This dish looks like something a cat threw up! This is blankity-blank raw! It's blankity-blank overcooked! It's crap!"

Kayla was laughing so hard tears were falling from her eyes. "Oh, Dean. You've watched way too much Hell's Kitchen."

Dean chuckled. "Like I said, I don't intimidate easily. But if I stepped into the kitchen with him and I created an error where he would start verbally attacking me, I would probably have to change my pants."

Kayla shook her head as her laughing ceased. "Oh, Dean. You always knew how to make me laugh."

"I guess I still do."

Kayla and Dean shared a smile before Kayla spoke again, a bit more serious. "I kinda miss this. You and me doing stuff together."

"I miss it too."

"When you left, it was like a big part of me was missing. When you left, you took my heart with you."

"I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't moved. Would we still have been together. Would we have been married? Have a home with a couple of kids?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Kayla reached for her napkin sitting by her glass, but the back of her hand knocked the glass off the table and the drink splattering on the carpet.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry, Dean," Kayla said rising from the table napking in hand.

"It's okay, Kayla," Dean said grabbing his own napkin and kneeling to the floor to try to clean up the spot. Kayla got down on the floor in front of him.

"Here, let me help."

"It's no problem. I've got it."

Kayla and Dean pressed the napkins to the carpet, trying to soak up the liquid. Their eyes locked. Neither one said a word. Blue eyes met green eyes. How Kayla missed staring into those lovely pools of blue.

They leaned closer until their lips locked into a soft, tender kiss. She gladly returned the kiss. She missed the taste of his lips, the way he kissed, the way he made her feel. Dean missed it too. The kiss broke after a moment and they glanced at each other, not saying a word. Kayla blinked her eyes rapidly and rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I have to go."

Dean quickly rose to his feet. "Wait, Kayla. I'm sorry. I did something wrong, didn't I?"

"No, no, no, it's not that it's..."

"You felt it. Didn't you?"

Kayla stopped just before she reached the door.

"Admit it, Kayla. You felt it."

Kayla sighed as she turned around to face him. "I felt it."

Dean approached her. "And you're scared. Believe me, I'm scared too."

"You are?"

"Yes. I am," Dean replied as he stood in front of her.

"I thought those feelings were long gone."

"So did I. I know you want to go home but...I don't want you too."

"You want me to stay?"

"Please. I'm not saying I want to make love to you, I just...I don't want to be alone tonight. Just one night is all I ask."

Looking into those pleading eyes, there was no way she could turn him down.