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“Sounds to me like you just like having two flavors in one. Greedy boy.”
Mickey flashed a devilish grin and nodded as if we were sharing some big secret. “Maybe.”
Mickey kept up a running commentary as we finished up the shopping for dinner ingredients as well as a few pantry staples I’d meant to pick up for days. The little boy was such a bundle of energy that it shocked me when he settled on the sofa with a book when we got back to my place. “Great kid you have there, Levi.”
“Right?” He let out a low rumble of laughter and started to unpack the grocery bags. “Sometimes I think I’m just one of those grandparents who thinks they’ve somehow found the greatest little kid on earth, but most days I’m pretty sure I’m right.”
I laughed and shoved the milk and eggs in the fridge. “You’re right about this,” I assured him before I went in search of the aprons I used when it was time to do my parental duties for bake sales and candy grams. “Here you go.”
Levi frowned at the frilly apron and shook his head. “I don’t need that.”
My brows quirked at his offended tone. “Oh. Right. Too masculine to protect your clothes. Got it.” I tied my own apron and stared down at the ingredients with a smirk. “What do we do first?”
Levi sighed and gripped the apron a little tighter when I tried to take it from him. “I’ll look ridiculous.”
“You’d look more ridiculous with a shirt full of dumpling filling.”
His thick bushy brows furrowed. “The filling goes inside the filling, but I’m beginning to see your real problem in the kitchen.”
“Yeah?” I folded my arms. “What’s that?”
“You think dumpling filling will end up on my shirt so clearly you have no idea how food works.”
His wry tone tore a belly laugh from me, which drew a brief moment of attention from Mickey before he turned back to his book. “You’re funny.”
“I know.” He flashed a handsome smile and suddenly I knew exactly what his daughter Michelle meant. Levi was handsome and charming, fit and smart. He was a catch at any age, but more so in a small town where dating options were limited as the woman’s age increased.
“Modest, too.”
Levi shrugged and pointed to the meat on the counter. “You want to do the meat or the vegetables?”
“Meat,” I answered and we unconsciously split up kitchen space with Levi working near the fridge and I worked near the sink, getting the shrimp minced up in the food processor and then dicing the pork in neat little cubes. “All done.”
Levi smelled incredible as he stood beside me showing me the technique he’d learned to fold the dumplings into a perfect fan purse. He smelled like a man, a real man who kept his scent clean and masculine. I leaned in a little closer before I stopped myself. What was I doing? This man was totally off limits. Completely. Not only was he an employee of the newspaper, he was also angling for my job. “And that’s all you have to do.”
I blinked to clear my mind and smiled. “Got it.”
The front door opened and I heard the distinct sound of Stevie kicking off her sneakers and hanging up one of her twelve thousand hoodies. “Mom, I’m home. Mom? Where’s my mom?”
“Kitchen,” Mickey answered distractedly.
“Mom, where did the little kid…oh. You have a date? Ew.”
“Gee thanks, daughter. Hold back with the compliments, why don’t ya?”
Stevie’s lips twitched and she crossed the kitchen to wrap her arms around me. “I didn’t mean it like that, but who are they?”
“This is Levi, he’s a journalist and he’s working at the paper. Mickey is his grandson.”
My daughter’s eyes flashed with mischief. “The one GG thinks can do no wrong?”
I laughed. “One and the same.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you, I’m Stevie.” My body relaxed at her good manners even if I still stung a little over her unintended slight. “You look exactly how I imagined a world traveling journalist would. Though I expected a corduroy blazer.”
Levi accepted her hand with a chuckle. “It’s too hot in most places for corduroy and blazers.”
“Hmph, I never thought of that. Good point. What’s all this?”
Levi flashed a killer smile at Stevie who beamed right back. “Shumai.”
At Stevie’s frown, I explained. “You’re always complaining about the lack of variety in Carson Creek, so Levi was kind enough to teach me how to make shumai, which are dumplings.”
“Dumplings? Seriously?” She let out a squeal that may have started all the neighborhood dogs barking wildly and clapped her hands. “This is so cool! Can I help?”
“Sure. You can make the sauce,” Levi told her and guided her step by step through each ingredients. “Now whisk it up until it starts to foam and set it aside. Better yet, split it so we don’t have to share. Your mom is a sauce hog.”
