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“I can do it for you,” he said. “Tomorrow, if I can get the wood at the hardware store on the island.”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said.
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Again, you’re feeding me all the time. It’s the least I can do.”
“Only if you let me make some food for you to take home tomorrow.”
He laughed and reached for her, pulled her in for a hug and landed his mouth on hers.
Her arms went around his neck, their tongues were dancing together and he knew she was feeling the same as him.
“I’ll accept that.”
She stepped back and put her hand to her face to fan it. “Why did you kiss me before you said you’d accept food.”
“Just wanted to make sure there was more heat here than the kitchen getting used.”
“I’m surprised you have asked that after I joked about a ride in front of Egan.”
There went the blush again on his face. “He’s never going to let me live that down.”
“I’m sure you two talk like that all the time,” she said.
He shrugged. “Not about family or never about Blake.”
Egan drew the line there and that was when Lincoln knew how serious it was. Maybe Egan was testing him with Grace, but in his mind, they hadn’t gotten that far.
It’s not something he wanted to talk about with Egan either.
She nodded her head. “I’m sure you’re hungry. I told you to bring an appetite.”
The fact she didn’t bring up anything about going to her room or “rides” told him she was probably just joking and he wouldn’t push the issue.
“I’m always hungry,” he said.
“Good,” she said. “Come in the kitchen. I’m making fried chicken sandwiches. Tell me what you don’t like.”
“I like pretty much anything,” he said. “I said that before.”
He saw the chicken pounded out in a bowl, what looked to be flour or other things to bread it. He wasn’t sure, as he didn’t do much cooking.
There was an avocado along with some shredded cabbage in a bowl and a sauce he couldn’t figure out. But it was creamy.
“Do you like heat?” she asked.
She was picking up the chicken, running it through flour, then eggs, then held it over two bowls while she waited for his answer.
“I do,” he said.
She ran it through a coating of something that had flakes of red in it.
“Good,” she said. “Me too. It won’t burn your mouth and I’ll make sure I counter it, but heat is nice.”
When she had two large pieces of chicken covered, she put them in a pot of oil, then turned and started to toss the cabbage with what looked to be some vinegar and sugar and a few other things he wasn’t sure of.
The avocado was sliced, and she glanced in another pan on the stove with oil, then started to pull out what appeared to be homemade potato chips.
“You went all out,” he said.
