“Never better.” With tongs he lifted the steaks onto the grill. “How do you like your meat?” He wasn’t going to lie. He meant that to sound dirty.
Leighton eyed him. “You should know.”
He laughed. “I have a good idea. As for your steak, how does medium rare sound?”
“That sounds perfect.” She glanced around, settling back against the picnic table. “I like your place, Axl. It’s so peaceful here.”
“Thanks. That’s what drew me to it too. I know the house isn’t much, but it works for a single guy like me.” His mother always threatened to decorate it for him, but she knew better than to come into his house and make it feminine. He’d burn it down before he’d let her turn his sanctuary into an ode to Tuscany. They were in Minnesota, not Italy, though his mother never seemed willing to admit that.
“I like the house. It’s cozy.”
“You mean small.”
But she shook her head. “I mean cozy. You can really feel at home. I grew up in a twenty thousand square foot house. There is nothing homey about that, trust me.”
“Damn. I can’t even imagine that. My parents have a standard middle-America colonial. Enough room to get away from my sisters but not so much we could hide from each other.
” Axl flipped the steaks on the grill and added asparagus to the basket on the upper rack.
This felt like a normal date. Casual conversation. Getting to know someone. Getting to know Leighton. Except that he already knew her intimately. Had watched her eyes darken with pleasure. Had tasted her pussy and sank his cock inside her. It gave him an easiness around her he didn’t normally feel on a first date. It was an odd juxtaposition.
“I always wanted sisters,” Leighton said. “So desperately.”
“You can have mine,” he joked.
A funny look crossed her face that he couldn’t interpret.
“I forgot my wine inside,” she said, and quickly rose from the picnic table. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be in in two minutes,” he told her. “I don’t want to overcook these.” Nothing worse in his opinion than taking all the pink out of a filet and making it tough to chew.
“Sure.” Leighton ducked inside.
He wasn’t sure she was comfortable with any of this but they did engage in what he thought was easy conversation while they ate. Leighton smiled at him frequently and her voice had returned to a normal pitch. Maybe that was because cameras were off and Jackson and Brad ate with them. After they were finished eating, though, they sat on his couch facing the camera.
Leighton had given Jackson questions to ask them, which seemed ironic. Hopefully easy. She had given him instructions to rephrase the question in his answer, since Jackson asking the questions would be edited out.
The very first one didn’t seem so hard. “What kind of wedding would be your dream wedding? Sky’s the limit.”
Axl shifted on the couch, his hand resting lightly on Leighton’s thigh. “My dream wedding would be outdoors. Small, casual.”
“That’s it? Anything specific you want to add?” Leighton asked him.
“Nope.”
She frowned at him. “That doesn’t make for good TV, Axl. You need to have a specific request or demand. A deal breaker. Something over-the-top.”
He could see her point. That was the way reality TV worked. If they were shopping for houses, they always had some crazy demand like a separate bedroom for their cat. The wedding shows must work the same way. “Okay. I would like to get married on my boat. The actual ceremony, I mean. And I want a wedding cake shaped like a fish. I think that would be cool.”
Her face made it obvious she thought he was insane, but hey, she’d asked.
“I guess if there is a nautical theme the groom’s cake could be a fish,” she said reluctantly.
“Can it be red velvet? I love red velvet.”
“It’s going to look like the fish is bleeding.”
But Axl shrugged. “I mean, the inside of a fish doesn’t look like double fudge.”