“The bloggervastly underestimated the skill and time needed to make her recipe,” I say to Rowan, freaking out because the house smells like smoke.
And it doesn’t smell like smoke because I started a fire in the cute living room hearth.No. It’s because I tried to burn down the kitchen.
I’ve heard of blackened chicken, but I know it’s notthisblack.
Rowan flies to the edge of the counter and stares into the charcoaled pan. “Were you trying to cook it or cremate it?”
“Not funny.”
“How high did you set the burner?”
“The recipe said it needed to be a medium heat.”
“And you got it to roughly the surface temperature of the sun.”
I groan, dropping my face in my hands. “What am I going to do? Ash is going to be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Get rid of the evidence.”
“I can’t throw away Laverna’s pan!”
“I didn’t say you should throw it away—justhideit.”
“Where?”
The doorbell rings, and I whirl around, looking for somewhere to stash the evidence.
“He’s early,” I exclaim at a horrified whisper.
Desperate, I open the top oven and shove the skillet inside.
“Open a window,” Rowan urges. “And turn on the vent over the stove.”
The doorbell rings again as I’m trying to pry open the kitchen window. With one last grunt, I give it a hard shove. It slides an inch.
Good enough.
I run to the living room, take a second to straighten myself, and then open the door like I haven’t a care in the world.
Ash waits for me on the step, frowning just like he did the first time we met. “Why does it smell like you caught something on fire?”
“There’s no fire,” I say brightly.Not anymore.“I was just making dinner.”
He’s dressed like a lawyer this evening, with his leather briefcase, brown dress shoes, and tan suit jacket. The look is extremely appealing.
Ash’s eyes narrow, and his lips curve in a subtle smile.
I must be sparkling again. Dang it.
I didn’t glitter once for Ryder, but this man frowns at me, and I light up like a star.
You have issues.
“Come on in,” I say, relieved when I hear the thwack of Rowan’s bird door. The last thing I want is for him to hang around tonight.
I lead Ash into the kitchen, cringing when I see actual smoke wafting in the light of the setting sun that’s coming in through the western windows.
“You had better check the batteries in your smoke detectors,” Ash says. “They should have gone off.”
