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They’d done the same, and Blake watched as she went by him with carrots, tomatoes, a couple of onions, and some heads of lettuce in her arms.
“I’m making a minestrone,” she said.
“Great,” he said. “I thought we were calling Jess.”
“We are,” she said. “But I need soup to do that.” She dumped all of her produce on the counter and looked at him. “Tell me about Tommy.”
“Nothing more to tell,” he said. “Not since last time. He’s still surly all the time. Thinks I’m being unfair. But I can see all of his texts and messages through the app, so he doesn’t delete them anymore.”
“Is he still with Kathy?” She picked up a peeler and started shaving off the skin on a carrot.
He went into the kitchen with her. “Are you dicing the tomatoes?”
She gave him a flirty smile. “Yes, sir.”
He opened a couple of drawers until he found a knife, and then he took the cutting board from the narrow strip of countertop between the stove and fridge.
“I didn’t know you cooked,” she said.
“I can do it,” he said. “I just don’t like it. So cereal is easy for breakfast. Or toast and coffee. I grab sandwiches for lunch or go out with a client. I can make breakfast for dinner or get take-out on the way home from work.” He shrugged as he cored the tomato. “But I can do a few things.”
“Set water to boil?” she asked.
“That’s something I can do.”
She got out the pot and he filled it with water and lit the big burner on the front corner of the stove. Cooking in the kitchen with her felt very domestic. It felt like something a man would do with his wife, and Blake really wanted to tell her that. He wanted to tell her he loved her.
His pulse beat faster and faster in his chest, in his neck, and as she started telling him about the new campaign she’d launch at the end of the month for Island Sweets, Blake smiled and chopped.
He laughed with her as the soup came together, and once that was boiling, Lauren washed her hands and met his eye.
“You’re not going to let me get out of this, are you?” she asked. She wasn’t smiling now.
He shook his head. “You asked me not to.” He didn’t want to be the heavy with her all the time, but he sensed this was very important to her—and extremely difficult.
“You’ve got the number?” he asked. “I’ll dial. All you have to do is talk. Tell him about your great new house, your new firm and how wonderful it is, and how handsome and hot and simplyamazingyour new boyfriend is.” He grinned at her, and she did crack and shake her head with a small smile in place.
“Fine,” she said. “Dial. We have ten minutes until the soup is done.”
“Will you talk that long?” he asked.
She handed him her phone and shrugged.
He took the device and tapped until he found Jess’s name. “Video call?”
“He won’t answer if it’s not a video call,” Lauren said. “He works in film, and he says he’s so visual, he likes his calls that way too.”
Blake nodded, his adrenaline firing again. Not because he’d realized he might be able to tell her he loved her, but because he hadn’t met a woman’s family in a very long time. Years, Lindsey would say.
The line rang once, then twice, and then itbeep-beepedas it connected. The video image flared to life, and a man with Lauren’s straight nose and dark hair filled the screen. Silver salted his hair in his beard and sideburns, and he definitely looked like someone who lived around actors, movie sets, and year-round sunshine.
“Lauren,” he said with a laugh. “Wow, I haven’t heard from you in a while.” He peered closer to his phone. “And you’re not Lauren.”
She crowded in beside him as Jess’s smile slipped away. “I’m right here, Jess.” She grinned at him, and Blake straightened so he wasn’t in the frame anymore.
“I wanted to…” She cleared her throat and glanced over to him.
He’d leaned her phone up against her recipe stand, but she picked it up and held it in front of her face now. “I, uh, how’s California?”
