I tossed my keys on the counter and regarded my husband. “Disappointed I’ve survived to annoy you another day?”
“Not really.” He pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. “I wasn’t ready to be both a new husband and a widower in the span of forty-eight hours.” He retrieved glasses from a cabinet and began to pour. “Though I’ve been sitting here thinking about all the messy decisions I’d endure as a widower. What would I do with all those high heels? Would I inherit all your personal planners, and should I just throw them away?”
I wanted to grab his silly ponytail and yank. “Touch my planners and die.”
“I would’ve kept some of the stickers.” He handed me the glass of white wine. “To remember you by.”
“What do I smell?” The heavenly fragrance of garlic and butter permeated my senses.
Lachlan slipped off an apron that demanded I kiss the cook. “Since you’ve returned unscathed, you’re going to need to eat. I kept it warm in the event of our blessed reunion.”
Curiosity and hunger getting the best of me, I joined Lachlan at the stove. Surely it was the defeating fatigue that made my heart loosen its belt and let out some of the hatred. “What is this?” I was looking at a restaurant-quality pasta dish.
His green eyes met mine as he shrugged. “Just something I threw together. No big deal.”
“A bowl of cereal is throwing something together.” I should know because cereal was a mainstay in my own routine. Pardon my bragging, but I could serve up an impressive bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. “This is full-out cooking.” I attempted to dip a finger in the sauce, but Lachlan swatted me away.
“I don’t know where your hands have been,” he said.
“Things said to you many times in college.” I tried once more to steal a taste, but Lachlan used his large body to block my path.
“Did your boss forbid you from eating lunch?” Lachlan asked. “Here.” He deftly twirled pasta around a fork and brought it to my lips. “Taste.”
My eyes narrowed. “Did you spit in it?”
“That’s insulting.”
I matched his aggravating grin. “So...arsenic?”
Lachlan gave a shrug before his gaze settled on my mouth. “You won’t taste a thing.”
As I stood there close to Lachlan, a steaming bite of heaven between us, a couple things occurred to me at once.
One, it was certainly an intimate thing to have a man feed you. As Lachlan guided his fork toward my mouth, my hand instinctively covered his. Our eyes met and held, and for a moment, I glimpsed something vulnerable and gentle in Lachlan’s gaze before he diverted his attention somewhere in the region of my chin.
Two, I’d never been this close to Lachlan without wanting to do him bodily harm. I waited for that instant flare of revulsion, but it didn’t come. Surely my instincts were dulled by the fragrance of a white sauce and the fatigue of the day. Because, I reminded myself, I did not like this man.
I leaned toward Lachlan and took the offered bite. I could feel his eyes on me, watching, waiting, tugging that short thread of tension between us.
Then the flavors hit my tongue, and holy cannoli, the man could cook. “Is thishomemadeAlfredo sauce?”
Lachlan seemed to have a hard time pulling his focus from my lips. “The jar stuff is an insult to taste buds.” Then with a shake of his head, he stepped away, only to then produce a Caesar salad from the fridge. “Sit down and let’s eat. I’m starving.”
It was almost nine o’clock. “You cookedandwaited for me?”
He shrugged it off and retrieved another fork from the counter. “I thought we might have something to celebrate. Either that or you’d need to eat your feelings.”
“I don’t do that,” I said. “I double up on my spin classes instead.”
“Huh.” Lachlan ladled out a heaping mound of pasta and handed me the plate. “Then let me show you how it’s done.”
A few minutes later we settled at the quartz island big enough to seat half a football team. Despite an entire row of barstools, Lachlan took the one right by mine. Much like on the plane, his legs invaded my space.
Lachlan spun another forkful, then turned those devil-may-care eyes to me. “Since you were gone all day and came home in one piece, I assume Celeste showed you mercy?”
I blotted my lips with a napkin. “Are we really doing this?”
He chewed, and one side of his mouth hitched in a grin. “What?”
