Page 23 of Hiding Hollywood

“You know the first rule to cooking?”

Addie shook her head.

Mrs. Dempsey cut a small, crispy chicken breast open to check the inside. “It’s trying what you make.” She sliced off a chunk and held the fork out for Addie to take.

Addie closed her eyes as the warmth from the chicken and flavor exploded on her tongue. “Oh my God!” She chewed slowly. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“You said that about that breakfast casserole I made this morning.”

Addie pointed her fork at the chicken. “This beats it. How in the world do you stay in shape eating this? I’d have to run ten miles a day. Which I need to do, by the way.”

She shrugged. “I don’t focus on that. I walk a few times a week. I also go to the Community Center to do the Zumba classes on Saturday mornings. That’s more to catch up with the local gossip than for exercise. But really, if we eat right, exercise right, we die anyway.” She popped a piece of chicken between her lips. “Might as well enjoy the little moments.”

Cameron opened the back door of the kitchen. Addie smiled right at him, her mood too good that even he could ruin it. She had several little moments she wished she could enjoy with her small-town deputy.

It was as if he hadn’t even seen her. He passed right by, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of Bud Light. He popped the top. His eyes closed as he finished off half the bottle in one, long drink.

Heat crept across her skin the longer she watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow.

“Addie,” Mrs. Dempsey began, a little louder than a whisper. “Your chicken is done.”

Her breath rushed from her lips. Right. Chicken.

Cameron lowered the beer, locking eyes with hers for the first time since yesterday. The intense connection highlighted her desire to dive at him, drag his head down and kiss away his mood. Prolonged exposure to teenage fantasies over the man must have addled her brain.

She turned and faced the stove. Had he felt it? He didn’t like her. He’d blown over his mom’s matchmaking endeavors like it happened every day for him.

But that one moment said differently.

“How was your day, honey?” Mrs. Dempsey leaned a hip on the counter.

“Rough.” His voice sounded abrasive. She risked a glance at him as she placed a piece of chicken on the newspaper to drain. He set his beer down next to her hand, his arm brushing against hers as he looked at the chicken frying. If she rocked back, just a touch, she suspected she’d bump into his chest. At least she had the excuse for warm cheeks from standing over the fryer. It was a big kitchen, and he had her boxed in.

“You know what cures a bad day?” Mrs. Dempsey handed him a cucumber and a metal instrument. “Peeling the cucumbers for the salad.”

With an exhausted laugh, he took the metal from his mom.

“What is that?” Addie’s curiosity finally got the best of her as she pointed at the metal thing. It had a fat metal side and a narrow, skinny side. It looked like an antique.

He wiggled it, and the metal clanged together lightly like it was loose. “A peeler.”

“My peeler doesn’t look anything like that. It’s wide with two blades. It will take your finger off if you get close.”

Cameron’s lips twitched, but he didn’t laugh. “This has been here at least thirty-three years.”

“Longer than that. It was a wedding present from my mother.”

“It’s a little dull.”

Mrs. Dempsey dredged chicken through the flour mixture and chuckled. “It works fine for me.”

Addie alternated between watching Cameron peel cucumbers into the sink and waiting for her next batch of chicken to cook. Seeing him do something so domesticated, and being a part of it herself, pushed her former life farther and farther away. A few internet searches of her drug lord and one vague email toMiss Alicehad her boss hot on her tail demanding results. She’d have to figure something else out and soon if she wanted to keep her job. One quick look at his server. Not trying to get in, but at least have a game plan for when she returned to L.A.

“Addie,” Mrs. Dempsey said with a nudge on her shoulder, “your chicken.”

Geez! She’d been staring at Cameron this entire time daydreaming about hacking. She snatched the chicken from the pot, a large pop of grease landing on the back of her hand.

“Ow!” She brought the spot to her lips. Her skin burned.

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