Page 17 of Cognac & Cornflowers

When Becca didn’t say anything for a few moments, he explained, “I gave the cook Christmas off; she’s going to make everything tomorrow and leave it in the fridge, ready to go.” As if that might somehow make it easier to accept that he had a cook – that he wasn’t a normal guy. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders when she said, “Aww. I’m glad you gave her Christmas off. I don’t imagine you get many holidays off when you work in a big house like yours.”

“I give them most of the holidays off. It’s just that Christmas day …” He hadn’t really thought about it before. It was a tradition that had lived on after his parents died. The cook worked because she made Christmas dinner at the house. This year, he and Xander didn’t want to be at the house, they wanted to be at the cottage with Hannah and Grady. So, it seemed logical to give the cook the day off. He should have done it years ago.

“I wasn’t criticizing you, it’s just that I can’t imagine what it would be like to work a job like that.”

He pursed his lips, not liking that she was seeing it through the eyes of his employee rather than from his perspective. But he understood why she would. It was better to lighten things up and move them along. “I can’t imagine either – but mainly because I can’t cook.”

She laughed. “You can’t?”

“No.”

“Aww, maybe I can teach you.”

His smile was back at that. “You should perhaps consult with Ava first. I don’t think she’d recommend me as a good student.”

“I think perhaps I should find out for myself. Not to toot my own horn, but I am a good teacher.”

He pressed his lips together to prevent himself from saying that perhaps they could teach each other a thing or two. “Well, depending on how our coffee date goes, maybe you can give me a lesson.”

She didn’t reply immediately. And when she did, she sounded uncomfortable. “Maybe.”

“You’re right. We shouldn’t arrange anything else until you see if I bore you senseless when we go for coffee.”

He was relieved when she laughed. “I doubt you will. That wasn’t what I was thinking. I hope that we will want to see each other again. It’s just … I don’t want to highlight all our differences before we even go for coffee, but I can’t imagine you in my kitchen. You’ve seen where I live.”

“I have. It’s a perfectly nice townhouse, and I’m sure it’s a perfectly nice kitchen.”

She laughed. “So diplomatic. It is perfectly nice, but it’s not exactly what you’re used to.”

She had a point, but he didn’t want her to hold it against him. “I don’t judge people by where they live or what they have, Becca.”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she asked. “Or by what they drive?”

He had to laugh at that. “No. Although, in your case, I might not judge you by what you drive, but it does make me worry about you.”

“Aww!”

He had to laugh. “You say that lot.”

“I can’t help it. You’re too sweet.”

He was grinning like an idiot. What was she doing to him? “Sweet, huh?”

“Yes! And don’t try to deny it. You are.”

“Okay. If you say so. But never mind changing the subject. Tell me that you had a ride to the airport?”

“No. Why?”

“Where did you fly out of?”

“Oakland.”

He pursed his lips.

“What? Why?” she asked with a laugh. “You’re making me paranoid here.”

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