Page 25 of Colton Family Bodyguard (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

Hazel had to hide a laugh.

“What’s puny?” Evie asked.

“Littler than everyone else your age. Go on.”

“Will you read to me first?”

Hazel rolled her eyes behind her daughter’s back. What a manipulator. But even at her worst, Evie was the most precious thing ever.

“After you do as your mother says and finish your dinner.”

With a pout and much slower steps back to the table, Evie climbed up onto the chair and picked up her fork. As she began eating, Hazel opened her mouth in awe and looked at Callum.

“The man with the magical touch,” she said, and then regretted letting that slip. It sounded so sexual.

His eyes heated as he appeared to register the same meaning.

“How did it go today?” Hazel asked, going into the kitchen to resume preparing dinner for herself and Callum.

“Good. Emily Watson is quite the character.” He followed her, inspecting what she was doing.

She was making linguine and clams. After that exchange she hoped he didn’t guess that she had chosen this recipe because he had said it sounded good.

With everything out and ready to go, she started the gas stove burner and cooked the garlic.

“Is that going to be what I think it’s going to be?” he asked, standing close behind her and to her left, looking over her shoulder.

She turned her head, her face inches from his. He smelled like outside and subtle cologne.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded sultry to her own ears.

His eyes shifted to hers, then lowered to look at her mouth.

“Are you making that for me?”

“We all have to eat,” she said.

He grinned, as if to tell her he knew better.

When the garlic cloves browned, she removed them and dumped them in the sink. They had served their purpose. In their place went three and a half dozen clams, some wine and water. She covered the pan and soon the suite began to smell like the beginnings of a delicious seafood plate.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Sure. I need a big pan of boiling water.”

While he did that, she saw the clams had opened and removed them to cool. She reduced the remaining liquid in the pan, feeling Callum watch her.

“The clams need to be removed from their shells,” she said, uncomfortable with the manly way he regarded her, eyes warmer than enjoying the preparation of a good meal would cause. “But leave a few of them in their shells for garnish.”

“Roger that.” He began removing the clams and she salted the boiling water and added linguine.

“Now what?” he asked.

She put butter into the sauté pan, poured in the clams and added seasoning. Once the ingredients began to boil, she reduced the heat and waited until the pasta was al dente. She strained the pasta and combined it with the sauce. After cooking that awhile, she turned off the heat and tossed in grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

“Voilà,” she said.

He reached past her and picked up a clam.

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