Elliott speared a piece of flaky salmon onto his fork and cupped the space beneath it as he guided it to Clare’s mouth. “Trust me. It’s delicious. Not too…fishy.”
With a smile she accepted the mouthful and chewed for a few seconds before groaning. “You’re right. That’s tasty. The parmesan breadcrumb topping is just…” She gave a chef’s kiss, drawing another eye roll from the teacher.
Mercifully, Clare and Elliott weren’t the worst, or even the most disruptive couple in the room. A tiny, pixie-looking woman with short, bright red hair in the far back corner seemed to be an even more disastrous cook than Elliott. So much so that she managed to set her salmon on fire.
Just enough to ruin the couple’s entrées, but not enough to set off the fire alarm, or trigger the fire suppression system. The acrid stench of smoke hung in the air and clung to their hair and clothes. It was going to take some scrubbing to get off.
Clare had already shoveled half of her cheesy potatoes in her face and was making light work of the bacon wrapped asparagus.
“This feels like such a fancy dinner.” She grinned as she chomped the end of a stalk of asparagus.
The instructor clapped his hands at the front of the room and announced that the class was getting away from them. Understatement of the century. The couple to their right had somehow abandoned the idea of cheesy scalloped potatoes and with the bacon from their asparagus had made bacon cheese fries.
Bacon fucking cheese fries. At a fancy cooking class.
He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed and high-five them or slap them upside the head. But either way, he definitely wanted bacon cheese fries.
He lowered his lips to Clare’s ear, enjoying the shiver that passed through her. “Are you still a heathen who eats her bacon cheese fries with ketchup?”
She folded her arms. “Damn straight, you ranch weirdo.”
He picked up the pre-measured chocolate and butter and tipped it into the double boiler.
“Okay, fine. There’s a chance my ketchup might be the anomaly.”
“Oh?” He wasn’t making eye contact with her. If she was admitting she was wrong about something he was going to let her and quietly enjoy it in aaaaall its freakin’ glory.
“When I went to community college, they all thought it was weird too. Ranch all round. Not a single person ate them with ketchup like I do.”
“Yes!” He fist pumped and shook his ass. “What was that?” He cupped a hand around his ear and leaned it closer to her. “Was that the sound of you telling me I’m right?”
She shoved him. “You wish. You’re justallwrong.” She planted her hands on her hips and jerked her chin at the counter. “Keep going, you’re doing just fine.”
When the class finished, he kissed her by the car. She tasted of dark chocolate and strawberries, and they both smelled like they’d been at a local BBQ for the night.
As they parted, her phone went crazy in her pocket. Chime after chime after chime.
She patted the back pockets of her jeans, searched the pockets of her jacket, and eventually produced the still wailing phone from the bottom of her purse. His stomach hardened and his blood ran cold. There was only one reason someone’s phone made that much noise and it was never a good one.
Something was wrong.
With trembling hands she pressed the phone to one ear and her finger in the other. The color drained from her face as she listened to a message.
“It’s Mason. We need to go to the hospital.”
Chapter 17
Clare
Elliott wasted no time herding Clare into the car and setting off for the hospital. She scrolled through her texts and listened to the escalating—verging on abusive—voicemails from her ex that waited for her as they rode in tense silence.
What did it say about them that two times they had spent time together they’d ended up in a panicked drive to the hospital? It kind of felt like punishment.
From what she gathered from both Catriona and The Sperm Donor’s messages, Mason had fallen on the ice and hurt his wrist. He cried in the background of the voice messages The Sperm Donor left, and her heart shattered as she listened to her little boy whimpering in pain.
Fuck.
What the hell had she been thinking? As a single mom, checking she had cell phone coverage wherever she went was hardwired into her very existence. Her kids came first. Always. No exceptions.
