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“I had a cup of tea.”
“Tea isn’t breakfast,” he studied the wire clock, “and it’s way past lunch. I’ll make dinner.”
It was obvious that it was way past lunch because of the setting sun outside, but she would bet her left kidney he couldn’t tell what time it actually was.
She tipped her head at the kitchen. “I bought cookware. It’s on the counter. Do you want to inspect them first? See if you approve?”
He went to the kitchen.
Then, his sigh echoed throughout the entire front living area.
“Raina, they’re pink.”
“They’re salmon.”
“Adding more pink to pink dye doesn’t stop pink from being pink.”
She joined him in the kitchen. “So you don’t like them? They got excellent reviews. Some of them were even from chefs.”
“I’ll reserve my judgments until after I see how they perform.” He unpacked the box and took the set to the sink. “Any requests?”
“Do you have a specialty?”
“If you want it, I’ll try to make it.”
She sat on the kitchen island while he washed the pots and pans. Every once in a while, she caught herself staring at him, but when he looked up, she turned away.
“How about Italian food?” she suggested. “Pasta?”
“Pesto tortellini sound good?”
“Sounds amazing.”
“Can I ask what made you go vegetarian?”
She’d stopped eating meat because she had what the treatment center had referred to as an “overlap eating disorder.” It was always the last thing she’d taste in her throat, whether she’d had meat or not.
“It’s a…flavor thing,” she said.
“Got it. Can you dry these while I prep?”
“Of course.”
She slid off the counter.
He started on the pasta and refused her help twice once she finished the pans. Today, he didn’t go with gray sweatpants. Instead, he wore a simple T-shirt and loose-fitting athletic shorts. Still, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
“Saraci?” She stood next to him at the chopping board and held her phone screen where he could see it. “What do you think of this? And if you don’t like sectionals,” she scrolled, “they offer it as part of a sofa collection. There’s a style called Japandi, which is a mix of Japanese and Scandinavian interior decor. I think it’s a good compromise for us.”
“What color is that, olive?”
“Yes. You don’t like green?”
“No, I like it. You have a good eye for furniture. Good design, good color, good quality.”
“It took a lot of practice.” She inched closer. “I decorated my house back in North Carolina. It took a while since designing doesn’t come naturally to me, but I didn’t hate the process.”
The side of his arm brushed hers as he chopped a few cloves of garlic. “That makes sense. You’ve got more of an analytical brain. Youcandesign, but it’s after doing research, looking at examples, trial and error…like an experiment. I think that’s what makes your research successful. That intelligence and curiosity.”
