Page 49 of Fumbled Beginning

My brother sighed and turned to his friend. “She’s right, and I know from firsthand experience that coming here wasn’t easy to do. I appreciate you manning up and having this conversation with me face-to-face.”

JP nodded. “I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

“I don’t either. But she’s my sister and you’re my best friend. I want the best for both of you. And most importantly, I want you both happy, so who am I to stand in your way.”

I smiled at my brother. “Thanks, Mav.”

He might have annoyed me at times, but I was lucky to have him looking out for me.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “And, JP, just a heads-up, my sister can be a pain in the ass, so I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

Or maybe not.

CHAPTER14

JP

“What is all this?”Rylee paused mid-step when she saw all the ingredients on my kitchen counter.

My bare feet padded across the kitchen. “What does it look like?” I slid her overnight bag off her shoulder and unhooked Oakley’s leash from his collar.

He ran across the room where I had a dog dish and toys set up by the sliding glass door.

“I assumed we were going to order takeout?” Her eyes surveyed all the ingredients, trying to figure out what we were making.

“Nope.” I gave her a quick peck on the lips and directed her over to the counter, where I had all the food prepped. “We are making my favorite meal.”

“Which is?” she asked, playing with the buttons of her black and white flannel.

“Chicken Riggies.”

Her nose scrunched up. “What on earth is that?”

Chuckling, I poured a glass of wine and slid it over to her. “It’s a popular dish in Upstate New York.”

“Sounds interesting.” Her eyebrows drew together when I handed her an apron. “Um…I don’t cook.”

“At all?” I stared at her in disbelief.

“Does a grilled cheese count?”

My mouth hung open. “How is that possible? I’ve been to your parents’ house, your mom is an amazing cook. She had to have taught you a few things over the years.”

She shrugged. “She tried, but I was never good at it.”

I tied the strings to the apron along her back. “Do you bake?”

Her snort said it all.

“My mind is blown,” I said, guiding her over to the chopped vegetables. “Looks like you are going to get your first official cooking class.”

“You can’t expect me to help you.” Her eyes looked scared. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“It’s not hard.”

She sighed. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“First, we are going to sauté the chicken.” I placed my hands on her shoulders and guided her over to the stove. I added the olive oil to the pan and waited until it sizzled before adding the chicken.

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