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“To cook?”
“It makes all the difference in the world. Maybe that’s why you haven’t been good at it before now. You didn’t know the secret.”
He tapped the screen of his mobile, and music played.
“Country-western?” My nose scrunched.
“Just country. See? That’s another thing. You thought the two were the same, but they’re not. All this time, you believed you hated country music when it was country-western you didn’t care for.”
He reached into the refrigerator and set things on the kitchen counter. He closed the door and studied the pile of food. “Forgot about the vegetarian thing.” He returned what looked like beef and chicken to the refrigerator. “What about eggs?”
“I eat them. I’m not a vegan.”
“It’ll be a bit, but when the time comes, can you make toast?” he asked, looking up at me. I wondered if Ares realized he was shimmying around the kitchen to the music. “What?” he asked when I covered my mouth to hide my smile.
“You’re dancing.”
“Again, all part of the cooking magic. If you don’t listen to music—the right music—don’t dance, well, you don’t have a prayer of producing anything edible.”
“Who taught you to cook?”
“My mom. She also taught me to two-step.”
“You’re from Colorado, yes?”
“I am. A place called Crested Butte. Ever heard of it?”
“In your dossier,” I admitted.
“Heaven on earth.”
“Why did you leave?”
“It’s a pretty small place.”
“Are your parents still there?” I didn’t recall reading anything about them.
“My mom and younger brother are. My father’s been gone a long time.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. Thesonuvabitchis still alive. He took off about a year after my brother was born. My mom did her best. Had to work a lot, though.”
“What does your brother do?” I asked.
“Makes her life as miserable as possible. He’s got a lot of our old man in him.” He looked up at me. “Mind if we change the subject?” When the song changed, Ares raised his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“I know I just said I wanted to change the subject, but this is my mom’s favorite song.”
“I recognize it.”
He came around the kitchen island and held his hand out to me. “It’s also the best song ever recorded for two-stepping.”
I shook my head. “If there’s anything worse than my cooking, it’s my dancing.”
“It’s easy. C’mon, I’ll teach you.”
