Page 35 of Crimson Love

“It was part of my job. I didn’t have a choice.”

He turns to the skillet but doesn’t flip the chicken or stir the sauce that’s cooking hotter than it should. All he does is give the skillet a good shake on the iron grates. “Cooking is new for me. I almost caved on giving a shit about my health right before I located my family. I figured if I was going to die of kidney disease before I hit mid-life, I might as well live it up. That never happened, and now I give a shit again.”

I exhale, relieved to be talking about food rather than me or Jett’s curiosities. “You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

He moves past me to a stack of plates under the island. “A nutritionist and the internet. Just remember, I promised to feed you, not serve you a gourmet meal. If you want that, we’ll eat at The Greenhouse.”

I shake my head. “That’s the last thing I want. It’s why I never miss a meal at Felicity’s. It’s not fancy but it’s made with love.”

He focuses on forking the chicken out on two plates before haphazardly dumping the rest of the contents right on top. “And you’ve never had that?” For once I can tell him the truth. “Never.”

He slides a plate in front of me on the counter before grabbing silverware and a linen napkin from a clean rack of dishes where they’re ready to be rolled for a new day. He holds his fork up between us. “I suddenly feel the need to up my game then. I’m not out to nourish the soul, just the body. I’ll see what I can do about that.”

No one has ever cared about my soul. I wouldn’t know what that feels like.

“Come on,” he says as he wiggles the flatware between us.

I frown at the fork.

He rolls his eyes. “I just slopped a minimal amount of ingredients into a skillet for you that came out a mushy mess. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Sorry.” I bite my lip and pick up my utensil to click it against his. “Thank you for dinner.”

He picks up his plate and cuts into the chicken with his fork. “It’s the least I could do. I did steal your car, after all.”

We don’t even sit. We stand next to each other and shovel food into our mouths. Jett must be as hungry as me, because silence hangs between us in an odd sort of comfortableness that I’m not used to.

My mouth waters the moment the acidic sweetness of the tomatoes hits my tastebuds, and my stomach thanks me for giving in to my car thief.

I can think about what’s next later. But at least I’ll be able to do it on a full stomach.

CHAPTER TEN

SWIPED, BOOSTED, YOINKED

Jett

I have dubbed Lennon my official distraction. If I wanted to peel those layers back and really look at myself in the mirror, I’d call her an obsession.

Even though standing with Lennon in the kitchen while devouring my basic-as-fuck dinner only intensified any and all thoughts about the woman. Her cagey and evasive comments didn’t help.

And since my distraction is ruling my mind and body, I know she stayed at the manor last night. I saw her coming out of the locker rooms this morning wearing a fresh outfit. Her eyes weren’t swollen, and she didn’t look like she’d been put through the ringer.

In fact, she looked as bright as the winter sun shining across the lake and mountains. Since there was no way for me to watch her without unwanted attention from the staff of the manor, I walked the property for over an hour, had breakfast with Harlow, went to town to visit the animals, and had lunch with Dean at the Combover. When he wouldn’t stop talking about letting me off the hook for car theft, I decided I’d had enough.

Through it all, I’ve lamented on my current fixation far too long. I have more questions than answers, and I don’t fucking like it. I need more information about Lennon Shaw, and she’s clearly not going to hand it over willingly.

I knock on the ancient wooden door that’s standing a few inches open. A voice comes from the other side. “Come in.”

I push it open the rest of the way. My brother-in-law-to-be sits at his desk working on his laptop. “Hey. Do you have a second?”

He looks up at me and lifts his chin. “Always.”

He’s alone, which is an oddity. Since I got here, Devon is with Harlow, taking care of Harlow, or making sure Harlow isn’t overdoing it after handing over one of her kidneys to me. “Where’s your fiancée?”

Devon leans back in his chair as I take a seat across from his desk. “I’ll tell you where she’d better not be, and that’s on the tennis court or hiking her way up a mountain. I don’t care what the doctor says she can do, it seems too early for any of that. How are you?”

“Better than ever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so bored I could poke my eyes out just for fun, but other than that, I’m good. And I’ve been hiking, so I’m sure she can too.”