Home for the Holidays by Rochelle Alers Page B

was willing to go out with him, but the revelation that she’d been in an abusive relationship made him uneasy. Her glib response that she and her husband didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things so they ended it hadn’t been an indicator that she’d been abused. However, seeing him in the throes of one of his nightmares could elicit a flashback of what she’d experienced with her ex.
    â€œI’ll have to give it some thought,” he said. He wanted to date Iris for the duration of his leave, yet his repeated violent flashbacks were certain to make even a short-term relationship problematic. And hurting her was not an option.

Chapter Four
    Corn Bread Stuffing with Sausage
1 pound ground sausage
2 cups chopped celery
2 large onions, chopped
5 cups crumbled corn bread
5 cups seasoned bread crumbs
2 ¾ cups chicken broth
1 ½ teaspoons poultry seasoning
1 teaspoon sage
    Preheat oven to 325° F. Place sausage, celery, and onion in a large deep skillet. Cook over medium-high heat until evenly browned. Drain, crumble, and set aside. In a large bowl combine sausage mixture with corn bread, bread crumbs, chicken broth, poultry seasoning, and sage. Mix well and transfer to a 9x12-inch baking dish. Bake covered for forty-five minutes or until well set and cooked through.
    C ollier detected movement at the top of the staircase and saw Iris standing in the doorway leading into her apartment. He moved off the top stair, angled his head and brushed a light kiss over her lips. The kiss ended as quickly as it’d begun, her moist breath whispering over his jaw.
    â€œHappy Thanksgiving, beautiful.”
    Collier hadn’t lied when he called her beautiful. Her light makeup, short hair brushed back off her face, and the orange-and-black color-block dress hugging every curve of her slim, toned body threatened to send his libido into overdrive. His gaze shifted lower to her bare legs and feet in a pair of snakeskin leather wedges in variegated colors of black, red, and orange.
    â€œHappy Thanksgiving to you, too,” she said softly. “Please come in and I’ll show you where to set up the table.”
    Collier bit down on his lower lip as he followed Iris across the living room to the dining area. Damn , he thought, even her walk is sexy . Iris’s experience as a chef was on full display. Along one wall were three serving tables, which held a variety of warming trays. The delicious aromas coming from them made his mouth water. Plates were stacked at the end of one table, while the dining room table, covered with a lacy tablecloth, was set with crystal water goblets, wineglasses, silver place settings, and place cards bearing the names of her guests in a flowery calligraphy.
    A vase of bright autumn flowers and leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow in keeping with the holiday theme doubled as the table’s centerpiece.
    â€œHow early did you have to get up to do all of this?” he asked, pulling out the legs to the card table.
    â€œFive. I get up at that time every morning because I start work at six. You can put it right over here.” Iris pointed to a spot several feet from the dining area table.
    He positioned the table in front of the window looking out onto Main Street. Collier and Iris looked at each other, then out the window when they heard a tapping sound against the glass. It was raining. Whereas most people complained about rain, Collier welcomed it because he’d spent too many years living and fighting in arid countries where daytime temperatures exceeded triple digits.
    He reached for Iris’s wrist, pulling her close. “I know we didn’t meet the conventional way, but I’d like to start over.”
    She blinked. “How?”
    His gaze lingered on her soft parted lips. “I’d like to ask you whether you’d consider going out with me.”
    Her eyebrows lifted. “You mean dating?”
    He smiled and nodded. “Yes.