Page 66 of Love & Other Disasters

J.P. laughed. “Yes, but cooking for you is more romantic.” He produced a jarred candle from a bag and handed it to her. “Ambiance,” he said in explanation.

It was her turn to laugh. She took the candle and rummaged through the junk drawer for the wick cutter she had buried somewhere. Violet located it and took the candle to her small table and sat it in the center. The wick sparked and lit a long orange flame, then settled into a flicker.

“What’s for dinner?” she called into the kitchen.

“Chicken Parmigiana. Do you have a meat mallet?” J.P. called. “I need something to beat the chicken.”

Violet peered through the kitchen doorway. “I know you’re happy to see me, but can’t that wait till later?”

He flashed her a wicked grin. “You have a dirty little mind.”

She rummaged through the drawer at the end of the cabinet and brought out a mallet.

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” J.P. laughed. “I like that about you.” He whirled around, pinning her between him and the counter, then stopped short of kissing her. Instead he studied her face, and unease rose through her as she couldn’t hide behind her mask of humor.

“You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Did Geoff do something? So help me…”

“No, it’s not him. I just had a fight with my mom before you arrived.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, engulfing her. Somehow the tension fell away and she exhaled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“It’s just the mess with Jill. Since she’s still boycotting Sunday dinner thanks to me. Mom wants me to apologize to get her to come back. I’m the one that has to appease her because that’s what I’ve always done. It’s not fair.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Violet pulled out of his arms and grabbed the broccoli and washed it.

“How are you planning on cooking the broccoli? Steaming?”

He nodded and went back to prepping the chicken. They worked in silence for a while each on their tasks. Violet took her anger out on the broccoli, cutting it into smaller trees. While she chopped she told him a bit about the conversation with her mom. When she tried to help with the chicken, he stopped her.

“I’m making you dinner,” he said.

“I don’t mind helping.”

“There’s a bottle of wine in one bag,” he said. “You can open that.”

“I can’t believe you waited this long to mention the wine.” Violet found the bottle of Pinot Noir. She wasn’t much of a red wine drinker, but after today, she’d make an exception. “You should have opened with the fact that you brought wine.” She uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass.

J.P. moved about her kitchen, and she marveled at the sexy man cooking her a dinner with mouthwatering aromas while she sipped a glass of wine. She’d had fantasies about this.

“Here, try the sauce,” he said, turning around with a spoon.

She let him lift the spoon to her lips and the rich tomato sauce was delicious. “Very good.”

“Need salt?”

She shook her head no.

“What’s that look for?” his question brought her back from the mental image of him wearing only an apron.

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