After half an hour of watching him pull up the schematics for the bar that we were going to tonight, my tummy rumbled. I smiled, deciding to make some dinner. “Want to help me cook?” I offered, pushing myself up from the sofa I was slouched on.

“Sure.” He closed the laptop and followed me into the kitchen, standing close to my back as I pulled open the fridge, looking at the array of meat, salad and vegetables that we’d bought.

“What do you want?” I pursed my lips, not sure what I was in the mood for.

He reached around me, making his chest press against my back as he picked up a pack of chicken. “Fajitas?”

I nodded, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach caused by the accidental brushing of our bodies, and we both set to work. The whole time he was pottering around behind me, trying to help, but actually just getting in the way. It was cute the way he was concentrating so hard on learning how to cook.

Surprisingly, despite Ashton helping, the food was nice. He’d cleared his plate of five wraps, and even finished the last of my second wrap when it appeared that my eyes were bigger than my belly. He moaned in appreciation, sucking the spicy juice from his fingertips one at a time with a satisfied smile on his face.

“That was good. I think I could make that on my own,” he mused, eyeing the empty dishes and nodding to himself.

I raised one eyebrow in disbelief. Just from that one meal alone, I already knew that Ashton was a terrible cook. He’d been so slow slicing up an onion that, in the end, I had to take it off him and finish it, and then I’d left him in charge of stirring the pan while I set the table, and by the time I got back, the chicken was seconds from burning. No, Ashton would not be able to make fajitas all by himself. Frankly, I’d be worried that we’d die of food poisoning.

“Maybe you should start with something easier… like grilled cheese?” I joked, shaking my head.

“You doubt my ability,” he observed, standing and picking up the plates.

I grinned. “I just think you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself,” I replied cheekily.

He grinned and leant against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “Alright, admittedly, I probably need more practice at cooking, but I reckon that by the time we’re married, I’ll be able to lay on a full feast.”

My heart jumped into my throat at that word. Marry him. It wouldn’t even be possible. “Right, yeah, okay, that’s not gonna happen. You’re too pretty for me.” I gulped and stood, squirming uncomfortably.

“Too pretty? Damn it.” He clicked his tongue, smiling his heart-stopping smile. I forced a smile too, even though I could feel the emotion swelling inside me like a storm. I needed to get away from him before he saw it and questioned me on it. “You never know, I may be able to get you to overlook my prettiness and make you fall madly in love with me by the time I leave,” he replied, smirking at me cockily.

I smiled back weakly as my heart started drumming wildly in my ears. I needed to leave. “Okay, Pretty Boy, I’m sure I’ll fall madly in love with you, right about the time that you fall madly in love with me.”

“About two more days then,” he replied, winking at me playfully.

My mouth had gone dry, and my eyes started to prickle with tears. “I’m going to go in the shower and then get ready to go out.” After excusing myself, I headed into the en suite bathroom and closed the door tightly. My breathing was coming out in short pants as I leant against the door, trying to calm myself. Why the hell did he have to say that? I looked down at my left hand and willed myself not to remember. Just forget it, Anna, he was just joking around, stop being pathetic! I mentally slapped myself and switched on the shower, trying to forget his comment.

The shower made me feel slightly better. Once dry, I searched through my closet, finding a black skirt and a cute baby doll top. After drying my hair and adding a few curls, I hesitantly picked up the make-up bag that I’d brought with me. During our shopping trip, I’d filled it with new make-up that I was yet to wear. Deciding to see how it looked, I swept on some chestnut eye shadow and a little mascara. Once I’d applied a small amount, I stepped back and frowned at myself with my hand poised over the face wipes. I hadn’t worn make-up since my sixteenth birthday, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it again.

At that moment, Ashton knocked on the door.

“Um, yeah?” I called hesitantly.

“Hey, are you nearly ready?”

“I guess.” I picked up the face wipes, tearing them open and pulling one out. I gulped, looking back at my reflection, still undecided.

“Can I come in, Anna?”

I groaned and narrowed my eyes, hating that the smallest bit of make-up actually scared me. “Yeah, okay.”

Behind me, the door opened and he walked in. I watched his entrance in the mirror. He was wearing dark blue fitted jeans and a black button-down shirt, open a little at the top; he’d left it un-tucked and rolled the sleeves to his elbows. Wow was all I could think. He actually hurt my eyes to look at because he was so incredibly mesmerising.

He strutted in, but stopped in his tracks when he was halfway across the room. His mouth popped open, and his eyes widened as he stared at me.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Too much, right? I should take it off, shouldn’t I?” I rambled, before realising he was still staring at me. “Why are you staring?”

He finally closed his mouth. “You just…” He blinked a couple of times, his eyes still wandering over me slowly. “You look stunning, Anna. So beautiful,” he complimented.