Page 27 of The Enemy's Daughter

“Yeah. This is amazing, Bella.”

“Thank you. I don’t know if it’s amazing, but I have her with me, and the recipe I have right now, I’ve adapted from one of hers.” She grabbed her oven gloves and pulled the dish out, revealing her casserole. “Are you sure you’d like some?”

“Yeah, I really would.”

She dished them up a plate each, and they took their food into the living room. She took a seat on one end of the sofa, and Blue took a seat near her. Tucking her feet up beneath her, she took a bite, and closed her eyes. “Without a doubt, whenever I feel sad, or lonely, I just have to make something, and she’s right there, beside me, and everything is going to be okay.”

Bella watched as he took a bite, and waited for his verdict. If he didn’t like it, then he was getting his ass kicked out. Her mother once said that any guy who didn’t appreciate her mother’s cooking, didn’t deserve to be given a chance. It was probably a joke, but she was doubtful. Her mother had a great deal of pride in her kitchen.

“What do you think?” she finally asked when he didn’t make a comment.

“It’s beautiful. I love it. This has to be the best chicken parm I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m glad.” They ate their food, and when she was full on one plateful, Blue asked for seconds.

“I sound like a pig.”

“Not at all. My dad couldn’t refuse her chicken parm. He always ate loads of it.”

She took another seat, handing him a plate.

“Have you talked to your father?” he asked.

“A couple of days ago. He won some kind of stock for a modeling firm. I’m not sure. I don’t follow everything he deals with.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah. Dad knows what he’s doing, and if he was having trouble or something bothered him, he’d call me.”

“Are you close to your father?” Blue asked.

“Yeah, I am. He’s all I have left, you know.”

He nodded.

Blue finished his food, and when the casserole had cooled down, she covered it with plastic wrap and placed it in the fridge. She’d probably take it to work tomorrow. One good thing about working, everything she baked and cooked didn’t go to waste. She took it into work for them to enjoy.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked once they took their seats again in her living room.

“I’m better. It’s always hard when I lose someone. My dad would try to get me to quit. He hates it when I cry.”

Blue rested his arm across the back of the sofa and teased her hair. Resting her head against his hand, she smiled.

“I don’t like you crying either. It’s … hard.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Still, it was hard for me to see you cry, and not do something about that. I’ve never experienced something like that before.” He let out a breath. “You are certainly something, Bella.”

“Tell me about yourself,” she said.

“Myself?”

“Yeah, what do you like? What do you hate? Do you like reading? Watching movies? What?” She took a sip of her wine.

“I love drinking good wine, eating good food.”

“Everyone likes that.”

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