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He washed and dried his hands, then pulled a sub bun from the bag and grabbed a knife from the block on the counter as he stood next to her at the island.
Dakota glanced over at him.
“Um, are you going to use a cutting board?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Aiden opened a cupboard she pointed at and found a small stack of them. He pulled a plastic one out and set it on the counter, then picked the knife back up.
“Can I make a suggestion?”
He swept his hand in front of him.
“By all means…”
“A bread knife would probably work better.”
“Errr, I have no idea what a bread knife looks like.”
She opened the drawer on the other side of her and pulled out a knife with a long blade and slid it across the granite counter with a sheepish smile.
“I’ve found if you use the proper tool for the job, it makes it that much easier.”
“I subscribe to that theory.” He picked up the knife and lifted it in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I had no idea there was even such a thing as a bread knife.”
“Don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, huh?”
“My ex-wife forbade me from being in the kitchen for anything more than a bowl of cereal or to grab a drink from the refrigerator.”
She tossed the lettuce she’d washed and expertly chopped it in what seemed like record time into some weird device that looked like a colander and pressed a button to make it spin around.
“You don’t strike me as someone who takes orders without an argument.”
“I guess it depends on what the orders are,” he said with a slight grin as he sliced the bread. “I wasn’t too put out by not being allowed to cook anything except on the grill.”
Dakota lifted the colander out of the spinning thing, then emptied the remaining water into the sink.
He nodded toward the contraption. “That’s pretty nifty. I’ve seen them on infomercials and thought they were a scam.”
“No, they’re great. Every kitchen should have a salad spinner.”
“Good to know.”
She picked up the cucumber and put it under the running water. The way she ran her hand up and down the vegetable should not be erotic, but goddamn, it was.
Aiden lifted his eyes to meet hers and noticed the smirk. She was doing it on purpose.
“You’re pretty good at that,” he drawled.
“While I enjoy some things dirty, it’s important to clean your produce.”
Aiden swallowed hard and put the knife on the counter.
“What things do you like dirty?”
She pushed the faucet handle off with her elbow, pulled a sheet of paper towel from the holder, and dried the green gourd with as much care as she’d taken to wash it.
“I like running through dirty mud puddles in the rain.”
