Page 20 of A Whisper of Summer Magic

She reached for another slice of apple and cheese and two more snow peas. “But we didn’t recognize any of the recipes except the biscuits.”

“Biscuits aren’t exactly complicated and bursting with different ingredients or directions.” He closed the book and hugged it to his chest. “This is a treasure,” he said. “My mom was never that into cooking. She worked the late shift at a hotel so wasn’t home for dinner. And my gran worked most of her adult life at Millie’s Diner. She’d work two shifts after my granddad was injured and was sick of the smell of food—she’d usually just bring a to-go box for all of us. But it sure was delicious.” He smiled. “I’m hoping I can find some recipes in here that will wow at the fire station and when my grandparents and mom return.”

Meghan squirmed a little, although he hadn’t exactly pointed a finger at her and cursed her as a rich girl. But she hadn’t exactly ever had to save or overly budget money, though G. Millie had been thrifty, but her parents had paid for all of their education, and G. Millie had paid for Chloe’s.

And still Jackson was looking to share the good fortune of the cookbook with others.

“I want to make something.”

Jackson’s announcement plucked her out of her head, thank goodness. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“You,” he said casually. “What sounds good for dinner?”

“Are you nuts?”

“Live dangerously,” he said and winked. “Girl, aren’t you curious? I’d imagined lawyers were really nosy, legal detectives poking their noses into everyone else’s business.”

“You’re not far wrong, but…”

“Let’s try it. Pick something.”

She laughed. “You’re not a little bit spooked?”

“Are you?” he challenged.

Yes.

“No.”

“So, I’ll cook you something.”

“Unsupervised?”

“I cook all the time at the firehouse.”

This was getting out of hand, but she wasn’t sure how to stop it without being insulting after he’d been vulnerable discussing his parents’ and grandparents’ financial woes, or her sounding like a superstitious fainting southern miss like Jessica had when faced with the book.

“You said Chloe cooked something for Rustin all on her own while he supervised, right?”

Meghan nodded.

“Well, she cooked the same meal for all the attendees of the Movable Feast, right?”

“Yes,” she said seeing where he was going with this, and not feeling as relieved as she should be.

“And did anyone but Rustin beat down her door after downing the entrée?”

“No.”

“So, maybe being present, observing is part of it,” he said reasonably.

Sitting on the couch in the homey family room off the kitchen felt pretty present. With the wide room casing that had been part of the kitchen remodel a few years ago, she could see into the kitchen if she switched her position on the couch.

“Storm wasn’t there when Jessica cooked the fig tartlet,” Meghan remembered. “She was alone. We were cooking together but I needed help and so my fruit and jam tartlets took up all the time and she had to make hers the night before the party. Oh,” Meghan recalled. “Jessica chose that recipe because she thought it sounded unusual and delicious, but the weird tag on the recipe that might or might not be magic stipulated that she had to be watched by an unbiased eye, so she thought she was safe.”

Jackson, read through some recipes, looked up. “What the heck is an unbiased eye.”

“Turns out that Jessica had found a stone fairy in the garden one night—under a full moon because of course anything woo-woo requires a full moon—and she washed it off and put it on the windowsill to dry and forgot about it. The next day, Chloe saw the fairy and said that was an unbiased eye, because stone, and then during the party Storm declared he was in love with her.”

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