to look at Ari. “And he’s already brought you to meet his grandmother?” She sighed.
“Well, he didn’t have a choice,” Arianna said, and felt better that Nana was surprised, too, though she did feel a strange compulsion to defend Lance. “He’s sort of playing bodyguard for me today.”
“Why do you need a bodyguard?”
“It’s a long story.” Even though she wasn’t at all responsible for her father’s actions, she suddenly was a little embarrassed about the whole situation in front of Lance’s grandmother.
Nana patted her arm. “Normally, I’m the prying type, but I can see you don’t want to share the whole story. I’ll let it drop.”
Gratitude filled her. “Thank you.” She stepped closer to the oven, where a fabulous scent wafted from the vent. “Mmm, that smells delicious. What did you make?”
“You’re in luck today. I made Lance’s favorite. You saw the salad, and there’s gazpacho chilling in the refrigerator; there were fresh tomatoes at the farmer’s market yesterday. What you’re smelling is spinach lasagna in the oven.”
“Yum.” Ari’s stomach rumbled a bit. “I wish I knew how to cook.”
Nana eyed her sharply. “You don’t know how?”
She shook her head. “I make excellent reservations, though.”
Nana smiled and pulled a large glass bowl filled to the brim with deep red soup from the fridge. “Stop by anytime you want to learn. I’m always happy for company.”
“I’d love to,” Arianna said, surprised that she meant it. Cooking had never held any appeal before. Why bother, when you lived steps from delicious food of all nationalities? But somehow Nana’s kitchen welcomed her and teased her with the possibility of creation in the same way a palette of paints and blank canvas did.
Lance appeared in the doorway looking sexy and completely at home in the cozy kitchen. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked.
Ari’s heart jumped until she realized Lance was grinning at his grandmother, not her. Lucky woman.
“Computer fixed?” Nana asked.
Lance nodded. “All done. You have to be more careful about email attachments. You had some software hiding and spying and slowing your system down.”
The older woman nodded. “Oh, right, that ham, spam you keep going on about. I’ll get it one of these days, but how do they expect an old woman like me to keep up with your Twiddles and Facebooks.”
Ari laughed, but Lance rolled his eyes. “Don’t let her spiel fool you. Nana has more friends on Facebook than you and I combined.”
Ari stopped laughing. “You’re on Facebook?”
“Sure, isn’t everyone?” Nana shrugged. “Enough about me. Time for lunch.”
Lance let Arianna drive home since it gave him time to both rest his sore leg and stare out the window while analyzing how it had felt seeing her in his grandmother’s kitchen. It didn’t take much analysis to conclude that lunch had gone well. Maybe too well. Arianna had fit in as if she were a member of the family.
Except, not exactly a cousin or a sibling. More like…his wife. Not even his actual fiancée had meshed with his beloved nana so well. What required analysis was why it had made him feel a deep satisfaction at seeing the two women chatting so easily.
Hell, he knew why, and he’d be lying to himself to deny it any more. He liked Arianna; he wanted to ask her out, but felt it was unprofessional as long as he was her bodyguard.
“Your nana’s great.” Arianna kicked off her shoes back at her gallery and settled into her desk chair ready to make some work calls.
“She is,” Lance agreed. He paced the tiny office, stopping to examine her many photographs tacked to the walls.
“It must’ve been nice to grow up with someone loving you like that.” She tried to keep the envy out of her voice. She also knew her statement was a leading one. She didn’t just want to talk about his nana. She wanted to talk about Lance . Everything about him from his family, his job, to
“Well, he didn’t have a choice,” Arianna said, and felt better that Nana was surprised, too, though she did feel a strange compulsion to defend Lance. “He’s sort of playing bodyguard for me today.”
“Why do you need a bodyguard?”
“It’s a long story.” Even though she wasn’t at all responsible for her father’s actions, she suddenly was a little embarrassed about the whole situation in front of Lance’s grandmother.
Nana patted her arm. “Normally, I’m the prying type, but I can see you don’t want to share the whole story. I’ll let it drop.”
Gratitude filled her. “Thank you.” She stepped closer to the oven, where a fabulous scent wafted from the vent. “Mmm, that smells delicious. What did you make?”
“You’re in luck today. I made Lance’s favorite. You saw the salad, and there’s gazpacho chilling in the refrigerator; there were fresh tomatoes at the farmer’s market yesterday. What you’re smelling is spinach lasagna in the oven.”
“Yum.” Ari’s stomach rumbled a bit. “I wish I knew how to cook.”
Nana eyed her sharply. “You don’t know how?”
She shook her head. “I make excellent reservations, though.”
Nana smiled and pulled a large glass bowl filled to the brim with deep red soup from the fridge. “Stop by anytime you want to learn. I’m always happy for company.”
“I’d love to,” Arianna said, surprised that she meant it. Cooking had never held any appeal before. Why bother, when you lived steps from delicious food of all nationalities? But somehow Nana’s kitchen welcomed her and teased her with the possibility of creation in the same way a palette of paints and blank canvas did.
Lance appeared in the doorway looking sexy and completely at home in the cozy kitchen. “How’s my favorite girl?” he asked.
Ari’s heart jumped until she realized Lance was grinning at his grandmother, not her. Lucky woman.
“Computer fixed?” Nana asked.
Lance nodded. “All done. You have to be more careful about email attachments. You had some software hiding and spying and slowing your system down.”
The older woman nodded. “Oh, right, that ham, spam you keep going on about. I’ll get it one of these days, but how do they expect an old woman like me to keep up with your Twiddles and Facebooks.”
Ari laughed, but Lance rolled his eyes. “Don’t let her spiel fool you. Nana has more friends on Facebook than you and I combined.”
Ari stopped laughing. “You’re on Facebook?”
“Sure, isn’t everyone?” Nana shrugged. “Enough about me. Time for lunch.”
Lance let Arianna drive home since it gave him time to both rest his sore leg and stare out the window while analyzing how it had felt seeing her in his grandmother’s kitchen. It didn’t take much analysis to conclude that lunch had gone well. Maybe too well. Arianna had fit in as if she were a member of the family.
Except, not exactly a cousin or a sibling. More like…his wife. Not even his actual fiancée had meshed with his beloved nana so well. What required analysis was why it had made him feel a deep satisfaction at seeing the two women chatting so easily.
Hell, he knew why, and he’d be lying to himself to deny it any more. He liked Arianna; he wanted to ask her out, but felt it was unprofessional as long as he was her bodyguard.
“Your nana’s great.” Arianna kicked off her shoes back at her gallery and settled into her desk chair ready to make some work calls.
“She is,” Lance agreed. He paced the tiny office, stopping to examine her many photographs tacked to the walls.
“It must’ve been nice to grow up with someone loving you like that.” She tried to keep the envy out of her voice. She also knew her statement was a leading one. She didn’t just want to talk about his nana. She wanted to talk about Lance . Everything about him from his family, his job, to
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