Page 48 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
With a nod, Beth straightened her back and squared her shoulders. It was time to navigate the grocery store. Her stomach growled in agreement.
In fact, it agreed so heartily that by the time Beth left she had enough food to feed an army. For. A. Month. Looks like she’d be eating her feelings tonight! Anyone have a problem with that?
She returned to the charming blue house and remained in her driver’s seat, with her hands and her jaw in her lap, gawking at the colorful display of the perky flowers basking in the radiant golden sun.
Pfft, whatever. Where was your beauty last week Ireland, huh, huh? It’s too little! Too late! I’m leaving!
With her nose in the air and her arms full of groceries, she marched past some pansies and through the doorway after bursting it open with her ass.
As she forced the groceries into the refrigerator she was snapped out of her momentary weakness to beauty. Why in God’s name was this fridge so tiny?
Beth stepped back from the refrigerator that came to about thigh-height and stomped her foot. Fine. Her stomach reminded her she didn’t need to put everything away because it was hungry and had feelings to eat.
She sat down in the chair and ran her fingers over the green painted table.
She frowned, then looked around, taking a mental picture of the inviting kitchen. The vibrant paintings, the various colored glass figurines and vases placed strategically on the window sills so color would shine onto the wall when the sun came out, like today. There were two empty plant stands. Of course, Roan would have removed the plants if nobody was living there. Beth wondered what beautiful houseplant they’d once been home to. Then there was the small, well used butcher block island that currently carried the weight of her groceries. And across the table at the empty space was the bottle of wine from Roan.
Beth looked at the island heaped with food and her stomach rumbled again. If she didn’t eat something soon it was going to get mad but really, instead of having a pity party, what she should do is something to make up for nearly burning down the house.
Beth picked up the phone and called Roan with an invitation to dinner that evening, which he accepted.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Wearingan apron she had found in the pantry that said “Never trust a skinny cook,” Beth ladled soup into a large bowl for herself while Roan sliced the bread she had baked. “I didn’t make anything all that special. I would call it comfort food.”
“It looks great and smells even better,” Roan said as he tore a piece of warm bread from the loaf. The bread, whatever kind it was, was perfect and when he tasted her humble soup his eyes rolled back in his head. Maybe Beth couldn’t drive but she sure could cook!
Roan and Beth had a friendly dinner. She mostly asked questions about him and talked little about herself no matter how hard he tried. But it wasn’t long before he could tell she was getting tired. He would have happily stayed long into the night and maybe opened that bottle of wine but he knew when to leave. Besides, he would have her all to himself soon enough.
Once dinner was done and Roan helped with the dishes he said, “What you need is some couch-melting relaxation.”
“I-uh-what?” Did that sound like what Beth thought it sounded like? Was Roan coming onto her? Should she be grabbing the nearest blunt object?
“You know, your favorite movies, some wine and snacks, a soft blanket.”
“You mean be a couch potato? Thank God.”
“Yeah. Why what did you think I meant?”
“Nothing!” She certainly wasn’t mapping out an escape plan. “Is there somewhere I can get a few movies?”
“Inside the closet of the yellow room are rows and rows of DVD’s.”
Beth went to the yellow room and felt around for a light switch but couldn’t find one.
“Roan, where is the light switch in this room?” She stepped inside the room but couldn’t see much except a bed. In a moment Roan was behind her.
“There isn’t a switch here, there’s a lamp here on the table.” He bent down and turned on a table lamp.
“I offered to put in a switch for her but she wouldn’t have it. The stubborn old cow.”
Beth snickered at Roan’s display of loving sarcasm. “Are you an electrician?” She realized then how little she really knew about this guy—aside from that he was handsome, benevolent, and a good cook.
“No, a general handyman. I have my own business and sometimes I work for another company on large jobs.”
Beth nodded and followed him to the closet. “Ta da! I present you with a personal stash of DVD’s.
“Jeez Louise, that’s a lot.”
