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“I like doing it myself. It keeps me busy.” I take the two shopping bags from his hands. “So, what are we cooking tonight?”
“Shrimp and rice. It’ll be quick for you to throw together on your own.”
“Quick is good.” I side-eye him as I set down the bags on the countertop in the kitchen. “Thank you for taking the time to teach me.”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Well, it is to me. I appreciate it.”
He moves around my kitchen with confidence and ease. He doesn’t ask where anything is; he just rummages and takes what he needs. I stand back and watch, thoroughly enjoying my view for the night. He pushes up the sleeves of his black thermal, putting his strong forearms on display, and he’s wearing those damn gray sweatpants again.
He sets a pan on the burner. “So, how bad would you say you are in the kitchen?”
“On a scale from one to grease fire, I’d say I’m a solid four. I’m not going to burn the house down or anything, and I know the basics.” I shrug. “But I also haven’t enjoyed anything I’ve made in the past. It never tasted good.”
“Well, this recipe is pretty basic. The worst thing you can do is overcook the shrimp, but that won’t be a problem for you if you follow my directions.” He jerks his chin. “Come stand here.”
I inch closer, but it’s apparently not where he wants me because he grips my hips and moves me until I’m standing in front of him, sandwiched between the stove and his body.
The rumble of his voice in my ear sends goose bumps rolling over my skin. “Pour the oil onto the pan, and I’ll tell you when to stop.”
I tip the bottle of olive oil over the pan and wait for his signal. “Shouldn’t I measure it so I know how much to use?”
“No.” He takes the bottle from my hand and sets it on the counter. “You just need enough to coat the pan. Now turn on the burner and set the flame to medium.”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “You’re bossy.”
“I preferassertive.”
I snort. “Of course you do.”
James coaches me through the next steps and I try to focus on what he’s saying, but he’s surrounding me and guiding my hands, making it hard to think straight. I can’t promise I’m going to remember any of these directions.
Once the shrimp is in the pan, I step to the side and busy myself with the bag of frozen rice. “I went to the animal shelter today.”
His eyebrows lift. “Really?”
“I wanted to see the dogs you rescued. They were so cute.” My lips tug downward. “It was sad seeing them in there.”
He nods and turns his attention to the shrimp. “We’re looking for the scumbags who were breeding them.”
“I hope you catch them, and the judge throws the book at them.” I splay my palm on my chest. “There was this adorable black-and-white pit bull with a tiny heart-shaped nose, and he really wasn’t bonding with his brothers and sisters. He was just cowering in the corner. Sadie called him the runt of the litter. He was such a little lovebug. I could’ve held him forever.”
“You held him?”
“I couldn’t not hold him. He’s so tiny and sweet, and he just needs love. He doesn’t deserve to be in there, getting ignored by his family members.”
“Shrimp only need a couple of minutes on each side, so you’ll flip them in another minute.” He hands me a fork. “Are you really going to plan an adoption event?”
“Sadie gave me the phone number of this agency that finds foster homes for the dogs until they get adopted. I have a meeting with them tomorrow.”
“Will you adopt one?”
I shake my head, staring down into the pan. “I need to focus on myself right now. Get back on my feet. Plus, I have my hands full with the renovations here.”
“Get back on your feet after what?”
Regret spikes through my veins. “Uh, you know, my family and I had a falling-out so it’s been tough coming back from that.”
