Page 53 of Taming the CEO

"How is that a problem?"

I looked up at her as I straightened. "I didn't know pans came in colors. Everything in my kitchen is stainless steel."

"I never buy sets, just collect stuff over time. I don't think I ever even wanted to buy a stainless steel one. Life is too short for gray pots."

"That's an interesting way to view life. So, what's the recipe?"

She went to the small bookshelf separating the kitchen from the living area and took out a notebook. It seemed old and worn.

“I know it by heart, but it doesn’t hurt to check.” She put it on the kitchen counter and opened it to a page titled "Mulled Wine."

“Is this one of your mother’s?”

“Yes. I’ve added notes, though. This is one recipe I keep changing every year.”

I looked over my shoulder at the shelf. There were several other notebooks there, all similar to this one.

Damn, this woman is something else.

"The wine comes first, obviously. We could technically add brandy as well, but I don't really like that. It’s too strong."

"I agree," I said.

"We should squeeze some fresh oranges into it." She pointed at her bowl of fruit.

I immediately grabbed a knife and a cutting board from the sink. I cut an orange in half, squeezing both sides into the pot.

Her eyes bulged. "It pays off to be all manly and muscley," she muttered.

"Huh?" I asked, starting to laugh.

She blushed, licking her lips. Fuck, she was adorable. I’d never seen her so flustered. Her usual sass was missing, but I liked this side of her too. "You can add two whole cinnamon rods, a teaspoon of cardamom, two cloves, and one star anise."

I followed her instructions precisely.

"The last question is how should we sweeten it? Are you more of a sugar guy, or do you prefer honey? I have some artificial sweetener too."

"What do you usually put in?"

"Sugar," she admitted.

"Then let's go with that." I sprinkled sugar into the pot, then stirred it with the wooden spoon she gave me.

"I swear I love the process even more than actually drinking it. Especially because the cabin smells delicious while it simmers. I usually only start doing mulled wine after Thanksgiving, but if there's any day that demands it, it's this one."

There was a beeping sound. She checked her phone and groaned.

"My friend Miriam says the mayor posted on the Facebook page. The storm is in the 'considerable' category. The wind is stronger than seventy miles per hour."

Damn it. I'm not getting out of Essex tonight.

Chapter Thirteen

Cami

My heart leaped into my throat. "It’s the first strong storm of the year.”

Dad sent me a message seconds later.

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