Page 23 of Sexy as Sin
He laughed. It hurt. “Wow. All right. Because it felt like more, maybe? Or so we’ll hope.”
“Except that you’re immobilized.”
“Well,” he said, “there’s that,” and she laughed, stood up, and moved to the chair. Too bad. She started digging in her bag and said, “You’re feeling better, obviously.” Tender moment over.
“Yeah.” He wanted to say something else, but he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t used to that, and he wasn’t getting any fonder of it. He decided on, “How did the wedding go? Rescue anybody today?”
“Not today. I just fed them. But Ididmake possibly the best meatballs you’ve ever tasted. If your tummy weren’t so rocky, I’d have brought a few along to show you what I can do. I also did a gorgeous vanilla custard for my tarts that made me think of you, as you seem to enjoy the sweet stuff so much.” She pulled a thermos, a plastic container, a glass, a bowl, and a spoon from her bag one at a time, like Mary Poppins, set them on his table, and asked, “Can I move this?”
“My laptop? You bet you can. I’m off the clock, and so are you. And you’re right about custard. Can you make Boston cream pie? I keep wondering.”
She set the laptop over by the window. “I’ve never heard of it, but I can make most anything. For tonight, I brought you your peach-vanilla smoothie.Withice cream. Just enough to make it delicious. I had the nurse at the desk put a couple of red ice blocks in the freezer for you, too. Something to walk down the hall for tomorrow, maybe. Your smoothie’s dessert, though, because I also brought this.” She held up the plastic container. “If you aren’t hungry, you can save it for later. It’s good for you, and it’s still warm.”
“What is it?” He couldn’t see inside the opaque plastic. “You terrify me. I fear liver, or possibly steak-and-kidney pie. I have no desire to eat anybody’s internal organs, or to use the blue plastic bag again. If you make me eat a kidney, I might.”
She was smiling, so that was good. “It’s chicken and dumplings.Buttermilkdumplings. American, full of protein, easy on the tummy, and containing no organs whatsoever. I even took the chicken off the bone for you.”
“Willow.” He looked at her as severely as he could manage. “How did you have time to make this for me? How much energy do you have?”
“Heaps. Just like you.” She got busy scooping it out into the bowl and arranging his table for him, then took a tiny plastic zip bag from her tote and scattered something frilly and green in the dish. “Parsley garnish to make it prettier. I told you, cooking’s my happy place, and this was easy. I had the stock in the freezer already. Slow cooker, and so forth. Besides, if you rescue somebody, you’re responsible for him, right? I’m wondering about you, though. You broke your femur two days ago, you’re in hospital, you’re on major drugs, and you’re working. Are you a workaholic, Mr. Hunter?’
She was talking too much because she was uncomfortable. She’d exposed herself by making him a special meal, and she was trying to cover it up for fear he’d take advantage. Not physically, obviously, because that was off the table, so why?
Emotionally, he decided, like a woman who didn’t want to be a target. “I’m off the IV painkillers,” he said, keeping it as casual as he could manage. “Onto the pills now, and on the road to recovery. The walker’s gone. Well, it’s here, in case, but I also have crutches, see? If it all works out, I could be out of here in three more days. And if you’ll hang on a second, we’ll address my workaholism. Look on the tray there first, on the windowsill.”
She turned around and lifted the cotton towel. “Crikey. What’s all this?”
“Proof I’m not a workaholic.”Or an asshole,he didn’t say. “A workaholic can’t detach from work.”
“And you can? Mate. You’re in hospital and on your computer.”
“No, I’m not. It’s all the way over there. I’m not the one with the twelve-hour day, either.I’mflirting with a beautiful woman, eating a delicious dinner, and watching a movie. At least I will be if you hurry up and put that tray in your lap so we can start on all of this.”
She was opening containers. “From Manna Haven. Brilliant choice. Just what I feel like eating. How did you come up with this from here, not knowing the town? Or... anybody?”
“The partners sent over one of the admin people to bring me my laptop and arrange a few more things for me, and I sent her out for supplies. But I researched first. Always wise. It’s vegan, so I wasn’t sure, but it sounded good in the heat. What else happened today, besides the shark? Your food worked out. What didn’t?”
“Nothing. Well, possibly my own partner.” She stuck a fork into one of the salads and took a bite. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. You don’t eat on the job, and after a while, you’re too hungry to feel hungry. Besides, smelling food can make you full by itself. Odd, that. And when I eat my own cooking, sometimes I’m too critical, especially if I’m tired.”
“Perils of the driven. Your partner what? And, wow, this is terrific. How do you make chicken taste this good?”
“I could tell you, if I wanted to bore you to death. I just bought into the company six months ago. Nourish, it’s called.”
“Bought in how? With a loan?” He snapped to attention like a dog who’d just got the scent, or like a money man who was thinking about money.
“No. I had an inheritance. Not much, just what my parents left. This was my big leap, when I was sure I was good enough.”
“But?” he asked.
“Oh, just—I thought it’d be best to go in with an established firm. Reputation, and besides, business isn’t my strong suit. But I asked my partner a question today, and she jumped down my throat. I kept thinking—shouldn’t I be able to ask?”
“What kind of question?”
A song blared out from her purse. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Sorry,” she said, and reached for her phone. “I should take this.”
He didn’t say anything, just watched her. “Hey,” she told whoever was on the other end. “Can I ring you back tomorrow?” A pause, and she said, “I know that, actually. I’m here. How didyouknow?”
Her eyes flicked to his, then away. How did he know that she was talking to a man? He just did. His hand was tightening on his fork, the metal digging into him, and he set it down.
