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She simply stared at him a long moment. His smile wavered with what she hoped was acute embarrassment. He’d come straight from the center rather than clean up first. A day’s growth of beard shadowed his cheeks, and his clothes were slightly rumpled. She supposed that was some measure of his sincerity.
“Fine, we’ll have some tea,” she agreed, “but I’m on to you, Dr. Starns, and if you careen off the subject the way you usually do, you’re out of here.”
He appeared aghast. “I might stray, but surely I don’t careen.”
She refused to quibble and led the way into the kitchen. She turned on the burner beneath the teakettle and opened the cupboard containing several boxes of tea. “Do any of these appeal to you?”
“Tension Tamer might be nice.” Luke surveyed the spotless kitchen. “Did you have dinner?”
Catherine leaned back against the counter and folded her arms across her chest. “I wasn’t hungry.”
“Well, Mabel’s spaghetti is filling.”
“I didn’t feel like eating at noon either.” She glanced toward the wall clock and wished she’d set a time limit on his visit. Now it was too late.
“You have to eat,” Luke argued. “Let me fix you something.”
“You like to cook?”
“I like to eat, and I don’t think it’s fair to make women do all the cooking. After all, anyone who can read can follow a recipe.”
“There, you just careened right off the subject.”
“Did not.” He glanced toward the cupboards. “You must have something, soup, a can of chili. Don’t you have earthquake supplies?”
“Sure, a package of beef jerky I keep in the car.”
Luke winced. “I’d rather not chew off a hunk of jerky, and I haven’t eaten today either.”
“Why is that? I thought you loved Mabel’s spaghetti, or was it merely the company you couldn’t stand?”
He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Let’s talk about it after dinner.” He began opening cupboards. “Hey, you’ve got Tuna Helper. I love this stuff.”
“You can’t possibly be serious.”
“Why are you making fun of me? It’s on your shelf, isn’t it?” Luke grabbed the box and a can of tuna and set them on the counter. “Do you have some onion, bell pepper, maybe celery we could add?”
While she was still thoroughly annoyed with him, she went out to the closet on the back porch for the apron Sam had worn to barbecue. There was a chef roasting wieners over a campfire silkscreened on it. That had been the extent of Sam’s interest in cooking, but she didn’t think he’d mind if Luke wore his apron.
“Here, you’ll need this.” She handed it to him and stepped out of his way.
“Thanks. I hate wearing those little frilly things.”
“You’ve borrowed a lot of aprons, have you?”
He winked at her. “I’ll admit to a few.”
Catherine tried not to laugh. “You realize this is surreal, don’t you?”
“Not at all. We’re just cooking dinner.” He walked by her and began to search the vegetable drawers in the refrigerator. “You’ve got all we need right here and strawberries. Could we eat the strawberries for dessert?”
He glanced over his shoulder to gauge her response. He looked completely at home in her kitchen, as though they’d cooked dozens of meals together.
“Sure. The water’s hot, so I’ll make the tea and then sit down and get out of your way.” She took a couple of mugs from the cupboard and filled them with hot water. She flipped the Tension Tamer tea bag into Luke’s mug, but took orange spice for herself.
Luke emptied the entire contents of the crisper drawer out on the counter by the sink. “Why don’t you make us a salad?”
“You’re the one who volunteered to make dinner,” she reminded him pointedly, and she moved into the breakfast room and sat.
