Page 53 of Matched

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tony

Ihaven’t cooked an empanada in years, but when Inara suggested making them, a warmth spread over me. And when she said we should turn it into a competition, a fire lit in me and I became excited. Especially if it means I’ll show my wife once and for all who the kick-ass cook is in this relationship. Plus, I can cook my mom’s recipe in my sleep, even if I have been out of practice.

Inara pops her head into the kitchen like a spy as I grab a fistful of garlic. My hand pauses above the bowl and my eyes narrow. “Hey, ya cheater, what do you want?”

The guilty smile on her face is so sexy I’m almost tempted to throw her down on the table, right here on top of all these ingredients. She flicks her hand casually in the air. “Just seeing how you’re doing. I can give you a hand if you need it.”

I’d been asleep when she cooked her batch. She’d agreed to be the one to get up early and use the kitchen first since this whole thing was her idea. I glance down at my crotch, my hands out to the side, one holding garlic, the other still sticky from onion. “Actually, I could use your hand right about now. You look hot in that sundress.” I have yet to recover from the last time she wore a sundress, a fantasy fodder for years to come.

“I don’t think so. I don’t need any excuses from you when I win.” She waves and heads down the hall to change clothes.

“Keep dreaming, wifey!” With a smile on my face, I continue working. As nervous as I am about making empanadas again, this is nice. Maybe next time, Inara and I can make them together. When we’re in the kitchen together, we move around in a way that’s exciting. Every soft touch is a turn-on. Every snarky comment is like foreplay. We make a great team, and more than that, I just have fun with her. That, combined with the fact that sex together is explosive, makes me incredibly lucky to have been matched with her.

I glance over at my phone to check the time. My brows pinch together when I think about the ring order saved in the browser history. Inara hasn’t mentioned anything about the piece of jewelry since the first time she made the request. Has she forgotten about it?

Shaking my head to clear out the distractions, I finish cooking, then clean up. The doorbell rings as I’m wiping down the counter, so I toss the dishtowel aside and head over to send whatever salesman is on our porch on his merry way. But when I open the door, it’s not a salesman standing there. Or if it is one, he’s definitely decided to dress down. He’s a fifty-something guy wearing a pair of faded jeans with holes in the knees and a T-shirt that reads Nope.

I fold my arms across my chest and broaden my stance. “Can I help you?”

“Is Inara here?” The man leans over and tries to peer beyond my shoulder into the house.

My hackles rise. I step outside onto the porch and close the door firmly behind me, forcing him to take a step back. “I’m sorry, she can’t come to the door. If you leave your name, I can tell her you stopped by.”

The guy snorts as he eyes me up and down. “How about you give me your name? You been staying over a lot?”

Now I’m getting pissed. My eyes narrow on his ratlike face while I draw myself up to my full height. “Seeing as how I’m her husband and all, yeah. I’ve been staying over a lot. So, kindly tell me who the fuck you are and what business it is of yours, or please get off my porch.”

He takes another hasty step back while his eyebrows shoot up. “Whoa now. This is just a misunderstanding. I’m Leiland Rivers, Inara’s landlord. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. After all her arguing and whining, she’s been making her increased rent no problem these past few months. Guess now I know why.”

Something resembling a growl rumbles up my throat, but I swallow it. This is Inara’s landlord and while, granted, he’s clearly a giant prick, we still have to deal with him. I tap my chin. “Huh, and here I was under the impression that landlords had to give notice for any visits or inspections, except in cases of emergencies.” Then I smile and stick out my hand. “Oh, and excuse my manners. I’m Anthony Martinez, United States Navy. Nice to meet you.”

Inara’s landlord’s Adam’s apple bobs in his scrawny throat. He gives me the world’s quickest handshake, yanking his hand away like he thinks I might crush it. “Sorry to bother you, hope you have a nice day. Tell Inara to add you to the lease at her earliest convenience. Oh, and congratulations.”

I wait on the porch, arms crossed, as he gets into his car. What a gross little man. I hate the idea of Inara having to deal with him. But at least the guy had the sense not to cause an issue today. Most landlords don’t cause problems where service members are concerned, grateful both Oceana and Little Creek bring them tenants. And now that Inara’s landlord knows who she’s married to, hopefully he will back off.

When his taillights disappear, I step inside and close the door, making sure to lock it behind me, then return to cleaning the kitchen. I don’t bother mentioning his visit to my wife when I go to take a shower and change because nothing is going to ruin today.

Two hours later, we pull into Little Creek, skirt the edge of Lake Bradford, and park at the edge of SEAL Park. All the familiar faces are here. Jim’s leaning on a tree near the water, talking to Craiger. Marge and Taya have commandeered one of the picnic tables under the wooden pavilion and are snacking on some chips. This is my family.

Inara and I each grab our pans and head toward the table where Bear has joined Taya and Marge. The sweet and spicy aroma of beef wafts over from one of the park’s nearby grills, making my stomach growl. We set our food on the warmers Marge had agreed to bring—mine on one table and Inara’s on the other—and then head back to the car for more stuff.

Once we’re done unloading, Taya comes over and starts undoing the foil covers. “Everyone is starving. I wouldn’t let them eat, so hurry your asses up.”

Inara smacks her friend’s hand away. “Don’t worry. I will satisfy everyone’s hunger soon.”

My brow cocks in her direction. “Think again. I’m the one who’s going to kill it.”

Inara holds a hand up at me. “Don’t get too cocky. I made a mean chicken empanada.”

Behind her a soft ooohhh comes from Taya, and I can’t help but laugh. This is going to be a lot of fun. When my wife is finished setting up, she turns to face me. “Should we make it a blind taste test?”

Taya snorts. “With this opinionated crowd? Not necessary. Besides, you’re more likely to win if people know whose is whose. Tony’s annoyed more than his fair share of folks.”

I pretend to sputter. “Hey, now. I heard that.”

Taya winks at me before addressing the crowd. She stands between Inara and me as she talks to everyone around us. “Okay, so the rules are simple. We get to chow down and then we vote for a winner. The person with the most votes wins. Am I clear?”

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