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He reappears in a few seconds, laptop and a glass of water in hand. “Alright, just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll fix dinner, then we’ll get you cleaned up before I tuck you in.”
My heart sputters and the butterfly that lives in there starts flapping wildly. I grin like a fool. “Nope. Nothing right now.”
I wonder if tucking me in involves him under the blanket with me?
A girl can dream. Especially when she’s all dopey.
Netflix offers a pleasant distraction from the remaining dull ache in my ankle. I tried a documentary but found I couldn’t concentrate, so I settled on a Rom Com instead. I dreamily float along on a love story about a florist and her brother’s best friend, the town’s hottest fireman.
Movement catches my eye as Hunter walks through the door. “You look relaxed.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“How’s the ankle?”
“Okay, unless I forget and flex my toes.”
He winks at me. “I’ll have to remember that.”
What? Huh? What does that mean? I soon forget my pathetic attempt at reason when Hunter sets a tray loaded with an amazing Italian meal in front of me. “Oh my!”
“Not Spaghetti-O’s.” He laughs.
“Definitely not out of a can. This looks amazing. What is the sauce?”
“Fra Diavolo sauce. And those are shrimp, but I figured you knew that.”
“Wow, and this salad looks amazing.”
“You had some good ingredients on hand.”
“Lucky me. I live with an Italian roommate, and I have an excellent caretaker, apparently.”
Hunter climbs onto the bed next to me with his own tray. “Now for the real test, to see if you think it tastes good.”
I dig in and wind up a big bite of pasta. With my mouth jammed full, I start nodding. After I swallow it down, I groan. “Wow, this is amazing.” I wrap up another giant bite.
Hunter laughs. “You’re high as a kite.”
I turn to him with fat cheeks. “Am I?” I mumble around all the deliciousness in my mouth.
“Yes, you are.” He grins as he slowly winds up his own forkful. “But you go right on, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
I inhale the bulk of the plate of pasta before I take a breath. “You know, I am impressed. Not just by dinner, but by you in general. I thought you’d be shallow and useless.”
He bursts out laughing at me. “What? Was I ever shallow and useless?”
I giggle. “No, now that I think of it. You were not. But you were not what you are now.”
He chews thoughtfully. “I’ll agree with that.”
I push my salad around looking at all the cool stuff he put in it. It’s a rainbow of colors. Who knew a man could make a salad like this? Well, except a chef. “So, when did you decide to become a cop?”
“Three years ago. When did you move to Lynn’s Cove?”
“Same time—about three years ago. What made you get into police work?”
He lifts a shrimp up and takes a bite. I watch his sinful lips as he chews it slowly. Who knew watching a guy eat Italian food could be so sexy?
