Page 38 of You Had Me at Chocolate

He chuckled and it enveloped her in a deliciously sonorous echo. “That’s what I like. A woman who appreciates my cooking.”

“Are you kidding?” She glanced up, her eyes meeting his. Jude had practically sustained her and her father all this time. And not quick and easy food but gourmet stuff—with garnishes! “I don’t know what my dad and I would have done without it this past month.”

And there she went again tears stinging her eyes.

If he saw, he didn’t mention it, he just smiled and performed a brief, completely nonsexual nose rub that was a good reminder of her stipulation to be friends. Giving herself a mental shake, Clem cleared her throat and pulled out of his embrace. Because it was just too damn tempting.

He was just too damn tempting.

“My ass definitely appreciates it.”

His lips twitched. “If you’re fishing for compliments about your ass, I am far too gentlemanly to comment.”

Clem gave a half laugh. “Fine.” She sighed dramatically to keep the light mood going. “What is cooking?”

“Risotto. Chicken and mushroom.”

Saliva flooded Clem’s mouth. “Yummo.”

“I took some round to your dad’s place earlier so there was something for him when he got home. There should be enough for a couple of nights. I popped a few more meals in his freezer, too.”

“Oh, Jude.” Clem pressed her hand to her chest. She’d texted him a list of basics to stock her father’s fridge with yesterday, which he’d done for her but this? This was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to do that. Dad is actually quite a capable cook.”

He shrugged. “Just to take the pressure off a bit.”

“You’re so sweet.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “According to the New York Times food critic, I’m a culinary badass.”

Clem laughed out loud. Maybe he had cultivated a certain persona due to the TV show and his New York restaurateur guise but here in Marietta he was the boy she’d always known and she had to grind her heels to the ground so she wouldn’t walk back into his arms. He deserved way more than her mixed signals.

“Do I have time for a shower?”

“Yep.”

“Great.” She smiled. “See you in ten.”

*

Fifteen minutes later, they were ensconced in front of the television in their places at either end of the couch, cradling steaming bowls of risotto topped with fresh basil and shavings of Gorgonzola cheese. The lights were off, the fire was on, and there was fifteen minutes until Lord of the Rings was about to start. The food was divine and Clem had to work hard to suppress her vocal appreciation.

“Where are you at with the property hunt?” she asked, needing to fill the silence so her brain wouldn’t go to places it shouldn’t.

“Still searching,” Jude replied not looking up from his bowl. “I’m heading out again tomorrow.” He took another mouthful of food, swallowing it and washing it down with a merlot he’d poured into both their glasses. Glancing across at her he said, “You want to come with me?”

Clem blinked—that sounded so much fun. And a total departure from how she’d spent her last four weekends. “I’d love to do that. I just have a bit of a day, is all. I gotta see Mom in the morning and I was going to go out to the Donnelly farm at some stage and get some pumpkins for the porch.”

“That should work for me. I’ve got to go do chocolate stuff at the Graff in the morning and I can pick up the key from the Realtor any time. We can go in the afternoon and fit in the pumpkin picking then? Haven’t done that in years.”

“Sounds great,” Clem said with a smile.

More than great. It sounded so damn normal after the ups and downs of the previous month it actually bordered on bliss.

Jude chatted a bit about some of the properties he’d seen as they ate and then the movie came on and Clem was so warm and cozy and full it wasn’t long before her eyes started to drift. She fought it for a while but she was just too damn tired from everything that had happened since she’d gotten that phone call at JFK and she didn’t bother fighting it any longer, wriggling down until she was lying on her side, her legs drawn up so they weren’t encroaching on Jude’s space, her head on the overstuffed arm.

“You’ll get a crick in your neck.” His voice drifted over her in a warm cloud.

“Just for a few minutes,” she murmured.

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