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“She was…I mean, sheis…a terrible person. She’s still with us as far as I know. She’s quite possibly the most horrible personI’ve ever met. I did not know the extent of her horribleness until we were already involved.”
“What did she do?” I asked, rapt. “You have to give me an example of her terrible deeds. Did she drown puppies?” I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth. “Please tell me she didn’t harm any dogs. Or cats?” My chest tightened at the thought of anyone hurting a furry friend.
“What? No. What would make your thinkthat?” His brow furrowed for a moment before he burst into robust laughter. “I have no idea her stance on animals, but she did not harm any as far as I know.” He reached into the canister for a handful of flour and dropped it onto the wood surface.
“Well then, she cannot be the worst person in the world,” I said.
“Okay, yeah, good point. But what she did to me was pretty bad. Do you want to guess?”
“Cheating?”
“Close. She propositioned my brother Soren. After we’d gotten into a fight about my long hours.”
“Lord, your brother? That’s cold.”
He pointed at me with his rolling pen. “You are correct. I’m not sure why she didn’t assume my own brother wouldn’t tell me what happened.”
“Did you confront her?”
“I did. Or, I let her have it, at least. There wasn’t much she could say in her defense.”
“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“She wanted me to quit the restaurant and move to California with her.”
“Let me get this straight. When you told her no, she made a move on Soren?” I asked.
“Exactly. Like I would give up my dream and move to California. I don’t know what she expected, but that’s not something I would ever do.”
“I’m going to have to agree—those are not the actions of a nice person. What did you see in her in the first place? Is she really pretty?”
“Gorgeous. And charismatic. Both of which rendered me utterly foolish and blind to her narcissism.” He dusted the counter lightly with another fistful of flour, then took a portion of the dough and flattened it with the rolling pin, using firm, even strokes. I tried to avoid staring at the muscles in his arms or the firm grip of his hand. Too easy to imagine what they could do besides rolling dough.
No, no, no. Keep your eyes off him. What was wrong with me?
“I guess she underestimated the bond you have with your brothers,” I said, hoping to distract myself from the view. How could anyone look so delectable rolling out fettuccine?
He briefly looked over at me, nodding. “Totally. Soren is the last person to betray someone, especially family. He’s extremely loyal.”
By then, his sheets of pasta resembled a delicate fabric.
“I’ll let these rest for a few minutes,” he said. “I’m thirsty. You want anything to drink?”
“No, thanks. I have my water bottle.” I gestured toward the container that I kept near at all times. Making pastries and desserts was thirsty business.
Caspian grabbed a bottle of sparkling water he kept from the beverage fridge before returning to his dough. He gently folded the sheet of pasta over itself. Not too tightly, I noted. I remembered from a class I took in culinary school how important it was to create layers that were easy to cut through.
“My turn to ask questions. Any beaux?”
“Beaux? Is that what they’re called in Montana?” I perched on a stool at the counter and sipped my water. It felt good to sit. I’d been working on the cake since 5:00 a.m.
“I call them that,” he said, laughing. “I already told you I’m weird.”
His sharp, long-bladed knife looked at home in his hand. He held it confidently yet with a gentle grip, quickly slicing through the folded sheets of pasta, making smooth and deliberate cuts to produce even, ribbonlike strips. The knife seemed to magically glide through the dough as the strips carefully unfurled, revealing strands of fresh fettuccine.
“No, there’s no one. Which is fine.” Kind of a lie. I’d love to find someone nice to settle down with and make a home. Out loud I said, “I’m having fun for now. There’s so much I still want to see of the world.”
His expression grew serious. “It’s funny. I’m the exact opposite. I have no desire to live anywhere else. Travel, yes? Moving away from God’s country? Never.” He cut the last of the fettuccine and transferred the piles onto a floured tray. Lastly, he tossed some semolina over it to keep them from sticking together.
