Page 22 of Mason Wilder
There was an old saying that went, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Tessa slipped her feet into a pair of five-inch heels and updated the adage to, “The way to rile up a man’s hormones is with a pair of hot stilettos.” She admired her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her jeans were tight, but not obnoxiously so, and the studded tank top was snug but not revealing. She wanted to look sexy, but classy. Tonight she was cooking dinner for Mason. Technically, for Mason, Lucas and Sindy, but the menu consisted of all of Mason’s favorite dishes. She had wanted to prepare this special dinner over a week ago, but the impromptu tongue piercing needed to heal first.
She went to the kitchen and pulled her new apron out of the drawer, slipped it over her head and tied it around her waist. She read the words written across the front out loud, while she strutted to the oven with an exaggerated sway of her hips. “Hot stuff comin’ through!” A covered platter with smoke spiraling upwards accompanied the script text across her chest, giving the phrase a comical double meaning. She loved her novelty aprons.
She had a pitcher of mojitos chilling in the fridge alongside some fresh sprigs of mint that she picked up from the local farmer’s market. The drinks were a nice touch, but Mason and Lucas preferred beer. She and Sindy would enjoy the mojitos. The table was set perfectly, but modestly. She thought about using the fine china and crystal, but it said too much. Subtlety was better.
The buzzer sounded right on time and she pushed the button on the intercom. “Yes, Jonathan?”
“Your brother, his girlfriend and Mason Wilder are here to see you Miss Garcia.”
“Thanks, but there’s no need to announce them. You can always send them right up.”
“I’ll make a note of it, ma’am.”
The three of them, especially Sindy, were over so often that Tessa felt bad inconveniencing the doorman. Plus, that damn buzzer was grating sometimes. She must have told the doorman a dozen times to send Lucas, Sindy and Mason up to her apartment unannounced, but he still buzzed her half the time.
She cracked the door open and headed back to the kitchen, but slowed her pace when she realized that Mason stopped at Lucas’ first, instead of coming straight to her apartment. He’d never done that before. He obviously didn’t want to be alone with her, and she reflected on possible reasons why.
“We’re here and we’re hungry,” Lucas called as he pushed the door open so Sindy could enter first. He had manners, Tessa had to give him that.
“Bienvenido,” she welcomed them, placing the appetizers on the table. She lifted her eyes to look at Mason, but his back was to her as he closed the apartment door, and she wondered if he was purposely avoiding her gaze.
“I wanted to bring something,” Sindy said. “But your brother wouldn’t let me.”
“Thanks, but you don’t ever need to bring anything. I know most people think it impolite to come empty handed, but I’m the hostess. I provide everything for my guests.”
Lucas let out a small laugh and poked Sindy in the ribs. “Told you.”
“Sit down and help yourself.” Tessa motioned everyone toward the table which had tidbits for everyone to nibble on, as well as a bucket of beers on ice for the guys. “I’ll get the drinks.”
“Mohitos?” Sindy asked, picking up one of the salt-rimmed glasses as soon as Tessa set the tray on the table.
“Beer?” Lucas countered, and Sindy bumped him with her shoulder.
“Thanks for being prompt. You guys are right on time,” Tessa said. Thank God, otherwise her main course might end up overcooked. It was a risk, but the flame was low. She returned to the kitchen and checked the porterhouse steaks. They only needed a few more minutes before they were ready.
“Whoa,” she heard the smile in Mason’s voice and turned away from the oven. With the open floor plan, she could see the entire apartment from the kitchen, with the exception of the bedrooms.
“It smells like you’re cooking some top choice steaks in there,” Mason called from the dining table.
“They are,” Tessa bragged. “Only the best for the people I care about. How’s the frituras de calabaza?”
“The what?” Sindy laughed. “I swear I need a Spanish lesson when I sit down to eat with you and your family.”
Lucas pushed the plate toward Sindy. “Frituras de calabaza. It’s a pumpkin fritter.” He took a bite out of one and then held it up as if he was making a toast. “A mi hermana la cocinera.”
Sindy snapped her head in Lucas’ direction. “Did you just speak Spanish?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, to my sister the chef.”
“Say it again.”
Lucas gave her a quizzical smile. “To my sister the chef.”
A laugh burst from Sindy’s lips. “In Spanish.”
