Page 144 of Beneath the Blue Moon


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“Did you say something?”

“No.”

“Huh… Thought you did.Anyway, never mind.You can help me.”

Hopping off the counter, I begin gathering ingredients.

“I am yours, my love.Use me.”

“Careful, stud.Those are loaded words.”As he moves towardme menacingly, I point to the fridge.“Potatoes, carrots, onions, mushrooms, redwine, beef broth.”

He chuckles and fetches the ingredients I asked for.Whilehe takes care of that, I work on seasoning the meat.I get the oil going on thestove, and then wash the carrots, mushrooms, and potatoes.

“Cut the onions and mushrooms into halves.Slice the carrotsinto big chunks.”

Once he’s done that, quite proficiently, I add the onions tothe pot.I brown them on both sides, remove them, and do the same with theother vegetables.He watches me the entire time.Maybe I should say “observe.”The look in his eyes is… evaluating.Does he doubt my cooking skills?I searthe meat on both sides and then ask for the red wine.

“Let me.”

I watch him hungrily as he deglazes the pot.

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who knows his way aroundthe kitchen.”

“Guess I’ll have to start cooking more then.”

“Guess so.”

Together, we add all the ingredients back to the pot.I tossin rosemary and thyme, and then stick it in the oven.After washing our hands,he glances at the potatoes.

“What about those?”

“Mashed potatoes.I’ll get to it when the roast is almostdone.”

Placing his hands on my hips, he pulls me to him gently.Iwrap my arms around his waist, gazing into his chocolate eyes.

“What do you suggest we do until then?”I ask.

His hands slide down to cup my ass, and he pushes againstme, his erection prodding my stomach.

“I have a few ideas.”

“I bet you do, Sheriff.”

“First, we need to talk.”

“Uh-oh.”

What do we need to talk about?He looks so serious.Did Iupset him?He takes my hand and leads me to the huge couch in the living room,pulling me down to lie next to him.I turn to face him, sliding my arm aroundhis waist.

“What’s going on?”

“I know why you left, Casey.”

“You do?”

Oh, God!Did his mother say something about me?She did.He’s probably trying to let me down easy.Then he’s going to kick me out andhave nothing to do with me again.I can’t look at him, so I keep my eyes fixedon his chest.

“It took some… pushing, but my mother confessed everything.”