Page 31 of Heartfelt Goals

“You’re missing out,” Kendall retorted from above, causing him to chance a glance at Laurel as she smirked, hiding her face.

Laurel was clever,he marveled, realizing exactly what she was doing to draw her sister out. “Let me think – and obviously, someone went to the grocery before we flew in.”

“I did. I hope that I ordered enough stuff to be delivered.”

“Probably not,” Kendall interjected again. “Bet you don’t have fish sauce…”

Dustin turned and opened the refrigerator. He plucked a bottle from the door of the fridge and put it on the counter without a word as Laurel reached past him and put some green onions beside it. She then plucked two carrots out of a bag that was lying in a clear drawer. He watched as Laurel then removed two eggs from the carton and paused, looking at her sister and then sighed heavily.

“What?” Kendall asked quickly.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Then what’s wrong? What’s missing?”

“Is something the matter?” Dustin began, hesitating as he put the bag of jasmine rice on the counter.

“I just… well… this was a thing that we used to do, you know?” Laurel whispered loudly to him. “It was a girls thing and…”

“Yeah!” Kendall hopped on. “And you’re not a girl, dork. In fact, you shouldn’t be in our kitchen.”

“Well, considering your sister’s cooking partner is up there pouting, I thought I’d help out,” he began and had barely turned around from getting the rice maker off the shelf in the pantry – only to hear pounding down the stairs within seconds as he turned to see Kendall had arrived behind him, now standing there, and glaring at him. “Oh hey. You’re here.”

“I am.”

“What do you normally do?”

“I grate the carrots.”

“Could I make the rice while you grate the carrots?”

“Are you gonna burn it?”

“I hope not – but I make no promises,” he smiled easily, pulling out the drawer between them where a peeler and grater lay.

“Are you giving me a knife?”

“I’m giving you a chance to show up my cooking skills to your sister before you trounce me completely in a game of Monopoly,” he whispered quietly, pretending to hide it from Laurel even though he knew she was listening. “I’m the banker.”

“So you can cheat? Everyone knows the banker cheats.”

“Fine. You be the banker, so you can trust that I won’t cheat.”

“Darn straight, I’m the banker – and you’re gonna lose.”

“Bring it,” he taunted and heard the girl’s chuckle.

“Consider it ‘brought,’Septic…”

“Hey, I showered.”

“And you bathed in that smelly cologne.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You smell.”

“Some people like the smell of cologne,” he countered, glancing at Laurel to see if he indeed smelled. This little girl was getting under his skin, and his ego was taking a beating like no other. “Laurel, you are the deciding factor. Does my cologne stink?”