Page 27 of Her Summer Hope

She arranged the mozzarella on the tomato slices and seasoned it with fresh basil and a sprinkling of good balsamic vinegar she’d found in the pantry. The side dish was ready and her nerves finally began to settle.

She even started to enjoy cooking, something that she hadn’t really been able to do for a while. With her limited budget for food, there were only so many creative ways to cook up chicken, beans, and rice before it lost some of its glamour.

She took the steaks and a clean platter out to the grill and then checked on the mushrooms.

Movement in the forest behind the chalet caught her attention.

As she timed the steaks, two men came sprinting out of the tree line, both racing for the house like their shoes were on fire. Their arms were pumping and their feet were grinding into the dirt and propelling them forward. Muscles bulged and gleamed and a sudden desire to just sit and watch took her by surprise.

One of them was dressed in almost scandalously short shorts, but when they got closer she realized it was the one who held her hand too long when she’d first arrived. Wyatt Evans.

Not surprising.

The other man was Kyle and she thought she was going to catch fire as he passed Wyatt again and sprinted toward the house, the clear winner of their impromptu race.

He was smiling and time seemed to stretch out as she watched him.

His abs flexed and worked in perfect harmony with his arms and legs. His chest was larger than it had looked under a shirt and his thighs were the size of tree trunks.

Her face burned and she felt her heart flutter and her palms begin to sweat.

She took a sip of water and turned away as she heard the steak sizzling, ashamed of herself for openly ogling her boss.

She was as bad as Wyatt.

“Is that steak I smell?” Wyatt asked, stopping for a moment and staring at her like he’d struck gold.

She tore her gaze away from Kyle, who was now walking in circles, cooling down.

“Yep, but you can’t have any until you go get cleaned up,” she said before she could think twice about opening a dialogue with him.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather—”

“Wyatt!” Kyle thundered, stopping behind him and breathing heavily. “In the house.”

“Awww, Dad,” he griped, before running off with a wink at Madison.

“Sorry about that,” Kyle said, resting his arms on the porch railing.

“That’s okay,” she said. “There wasn’t a menu for this evening, so I hope steak is okay,” she worried.

“Steak is perfect,” he assured her. “I’ll go get cleaned up so I can have some,” he said with a little smirk.

She found herself smiling like an idiot long after he left.

∞∞∞

She rang the chime to signal dinner and carried the platters out to the buffet in the dining room. The potatoes had ended up taking the longest, and they were scorching hot as she took them out with tongs.

Her first meal for the chalet sat steaming and vibrant and waiting to be eaten. She hoped it tasted as good as it looked.

Strangely, though she hadn’t ever really liked cooking overly much, she had really enjoyed the evening. It felt good to prepare meals for someone other than picky little kids who only wanted hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.

The steaks sat in their melting pools of parsley butter near the dish of grilled mushrooms, the salted potatoes waited for the toppings placed nearby, and the tomatoes brought in by Murdock gleamed vividly under the smattering of bright green basil and rich aged vinegar. The fresh salad loaded with vegetables waited with tongs.

The only thing left was to serve the bread pudding and ice cream, then clean up and go home.

She stacked the plates and silverware on the sideboard, unsure of the protocol. Did they serve themselves or was she supposed to do it?

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