“Okay, I could eat. Honestly, I don’t know why I left before dinner was served. Mother usually has a decent roast beef.”
“So your mother cooks?” I asked, wondering about the tone in his voice. Of course, I really only knew about the other woman from Isabelle’s single meeting. And it hadn’t been pleasant.
“My mother doesn’t cook,” he said, that deep chuckle from his chest oddly attractive.
“Oh. But I thought you said…” I trailed off, and he shook his head.
“My mother has a great chef. Or she has had a few great chefs in her lifetime. She gets tired of them after a while and fires them.”
I scrunched up my nose as I pulled out ingredients for a sandwich. “Well, I do have deli meat roast beef. How about that?”
“That sounds perfect. You really don’t need to make me one.”
“No, I’m doing it. Just going to have to get over it.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want,” I said after a moment.
“So, what was it like growing up with a chef?” I asked, feeling only slightly awkward.
“Not as fancy as it might sound,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry, but the fact that you call your mom Mother in that upper crust tone, and you have a private chef? Sorry. You’re a little higher class than you’re trying to have me believe.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay true. But it wasn’t always like that. The family only started making the money that they’re making now recently. At least in the last twelve years or so.”
“So you didn’t grow up with that silver spoon?”
“Not really. I mean, we had the town, but that wasn’t exactly how it sounds.”
“Yes, because having a town named after you isn’t unique at all.”
I thankfully still had a baguette, and cut it in half, and pointed to the condiments. He tapped the mayonnaise and mustard, and I was surprised because it was what I liked too. Most people in my life happened to hate mayonnaise, so this felt like a perfect match. Or maybe I was thinking too much about condiments.
I quickly finished setting up the sandwich and pushed it toward him, and he just shook his head.
“What?” I asked, slightly crestfallen.
“I can’t believe I just made you make me a sandwich.”
“You didn’t make me. In fact, I’m making you eat one. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water’s fine.” His stomach growled, and I swore he blushed. “Okay, thank you. I’m really in need of this sandwich.”
I poured two glasses of water, because I was suddenly parched with him at my kitchen island, and stood across the granite with him, as he ate.
“So, town?” I asked.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and shrugged. “The story goes that my great-grandfather helped found the town. Although, that story doesn’t really make sense in terms of actual time and history.”
I laughed. “Okay, so someone rewrote history.”
“I’m pretty sure what is now Cage Lake was called something else. My brother Hudson would know more since he lives there full time.”
I wanted to ask more about that, but I held back, wanting to hear about Aston himself.
“But the town was fully incorporated, rather than what it had been before with my great-grandfather.”