Page 54 of Married to the Frenemy

“That’s it. Perfect. Are you sure you’re not a trained chef?”

My daughter’s infectious giggles echo in the space. I lean against the wall, watching them interact with ease, as if Beckham Lawrence cooking dinner with my daughter is a normal occurrence. He’s always been so good to her, even when he couldn’t stand the sight of me. Now that he’s softened up, it makes me want all the things I have no right wanting.

Especially after everything he lost because of me.

“I’m too young to have a job, Beck!” Maggie says through her laughter.

“What? Aren’t you eighteen?”

“I’m only four.” She holds up her hand, demonstrating how many she is.

“Are you serious? Only four? Wow.” He shakes his head in amazement. “You could have fooled me. I thought for sure you were much older than that.”

“Stop trying to wish time away,” I interrupt, moving toward them. “You’ve already grown up faster than I like.”

“Mama!” Maggie jumps down from her stool and runs toward me, giving me a hug. “We’re making you dinner!”

“Is that right?” I look from her toward Beckham, meeting his dark eyes.

“Yup.” Maggie answers enthusiastically. “I just finished making the marinade for the ahi.”

“You’re making ahi?”

“Seared, if that’s okay,” Beckham says softly.

“I love seared ahi.”

“I know.” He flashes me a grin that I feel deep in my soul. Then he wipes his hands on a dishtowel and pours some red wine into a glass, handing it to me.

“Red wine with fish? Are you feeling okay?”

“Ahi is a substantial fish. If it were a flaky white fish, this would be a sauvignon blanc or chardonnay. But ahi works well with a light red, like a pinot noir. And this one from the Santa Barbara Valley is one of my favorites.”

He tilts his glass toward mine, and I clink with him before bringing the wine to my mouth, taking a sip. I can see how it would pair well with ahi. It’s not too heavy, but not too light, either. The perfect medium-bodied red.

“You look better,” Beckham remarks after a beat. “Not that you looked bad,” he adds quickly. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to look bad. But?—”

“I feel better,” I interject as heat rushes over my face.

Why does it feel like that one summer all over again? We were awkward around each other then, too. At least when I realized my feelings for him went deeper than that of him merely being a boy I once knew as a child.

“What can I help with?” I ask, needing to do something to distract myself from the mounting tension between us.

“My sous chef and I have everything covered in here. Why don’t you go relax outside? Enjoy the sunset.”

“I’ll show you to your table!” Maggie offers, looking at Beckham and giving him an exaggerated wink.

“What are you two up to?” I ask suspiciously.

“Just play along,” Beckham whispers.

Maggie grabs my hand and pulls me through the living area and onto the back patio. A few strands of twinkling lights hang overhead as soft jazz music sounds from the speakers. There’s a slight chill in the air now that the sun has started to go down, but Beckham lit the space heaters, as well as the nearby fire pit.

“How many?” Maggie faces me, playing the perfect hostess.

I look at the table to see it’s already set for dinner, a hand-drawn menu placed on each plate.

“Three.”

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