“Mmmm,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” he answered.
He fitted his hat back on with a smile. “Until then, Emily Quinn.” He walked out her door, and reluctantly, she closed it quickly behind him.
But between the window curtains, Emily watched him deal handily with the journalists until he’d cleared the crowd and then disappeared around the corner, never once looking back. Instead, already on his phone, he was moving on.
She turned and stared down at the gauntlet of reporters just as a ding hit her cell phone. A text message alert appeared on her screen. A slow smile curved her lips.
Him:“Did I mention I can’t stop thinking about your flourless chocolate cake?”
Her:“You did, actually, mention it.”She added a heart emoji. Then, she frowned, deleted it and added a winky face.
Him:“Just wanted you to know.”
Her:“I’m glad you liked it.”
She waited as the three dots that told her he was typing scrolled across the text thread. Finally, her phone dinged again.
Him:“Liked? No, I loved it. In case you missed it, that’s my subtle way of luring you to Montana to bake me another one.”
She bit her thumbnail, grinning like an idiot, as she typed again.
Her:“You only want me for my cake.”
Pause.
Him:“That is a close call.”Three dots blinked again.“Kidding… It’s definitely not.”
She felt herself blush again, something that was becoming routine around him.
Her:“Safe travels back home, Liam.”
Him:“…”
She waited, wondering if he was typing and erasing, too. Finally…
Him:“I’ll be thinking about that… cake and that kiss.”
She hearted his text and waited for more, but that was it.
Finally, she sat on the chair near her window and stared out past all the chaos at her window, at the city she loved so much. She was a city girl, after all, and always would be—once this chaos all died down. Still, she tried to picture Montana—halfway across America, with its cattle and prairies and jagged mountains, seeing Liam there in his element. But likely, this weekend was just a blip. An accident. A brief encounter.
She read his words again, remembering that kiss, too.
But yes. A blip. That was all it would ever be.
“A recipe has no soul. You, as the cook, must bring soul to the recipe.”
–Chef, Thomas Keller–
Chapter Four
“You’ve been distractedever since you got back from New York,” Liam’s older sister, Shay said to him as he washed up one afternoon in the kitchen sink three weeks after his return. “I keep seeing you staring off into space when you’re usually so focused. And generally, there’s a frown on your face as you’re doing it. Is everything okay?”
Surprised that he’d been that transparent, he said, “Yeah. I’m fine.” He hadn’t told anyone about his encounter in New York City, because he was pretty sure nothing would ever come of it. His family, as much as he loved them all, could be relentless.
“Hmm.” She handed him a towel and tucked her long, reddish-brown hair behind her ear. “Because I spoke with Jess Brody the other day on the phone. He called while you were off feeding cattle.”