and he drew a ragged breath. “No.” He looked into her eyes, and she read more than sadness. She saw a glint of anger, too.
“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you.”
David turned to the brick oven and busied himself with the kindling before he said, “The fire is almost the right temperature. I’ll season the salmon.”
Sloane watched as he retrieved spices from a rack near the oven and expertly blended several together before sprinkling them on the orange colored fish.
“Did your mom teach you to cook?” Sloane couldn’t help it. She always spoke her mind. It was a fault she tried to correct but accepted as inherited. Her whole family told it like it was. “Honesty is the best policy” was nearly a family creed.
David ignored her question and set the salmon on a grill he held inches above the fire. His bicep bulged provocatively, and Sloane was drawn to his side.
“This is nifty. Doesn’t it get hot holding that grate?”
“I can hook it on this bracket,” and he did so, showing her how to utilize the oven without absorbing the heat or getting burned.
“Nice,” she said and put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. He looked at her, and she could see he understood her gesture as conciliatory.
“You certainly are,” he said, and she heard avidity in the phrase. She stepped away and went back to her seat. He cooked and she peeled. When the salmon was done, he took it off the grate and Sloane moved to the stove where a pot of boiling water with a steamer basket waited. She put the vegetables into the basket and covered the pot. She turned to David, and he smiled at her.
They needed no words. They worked together like a married couple, seamlessly, easily. The thought made her blush and David noticed.
“This is really nice,” he said, and she wondered if he meant their affability or the salmon he was now expertly slicing.
“Perfect,” she agreed, and turned back to the stove top. David brought her a silver oven mitt, and she removed the steamer basket. The bright green asparagus and lemon yellow summer squash appeared cooked to perfection.
“I like them a little hard,” she said, and then amended, “I mean crisp. How about you?”
David smiled devilishly, “The harder the better as long as they’re hot.”
Chapter 6
David enjoyed watching the color bloom in Sloane’s cheeks. She said things that made him smile, that made him laugh, and he couldn’t resist her charm. When she had come downstairs in that little green dress and entered his kitchen like a goddess, he swore he heard his heart do double time. The woman stirred him physically and mentally. What could be more natural than flirting outrageously with such a woman?
“Let’s eat on the deck tonight. The weather is warm, and the fresh air will help our appetites,” he said as he led Sloane, plate in hand, to a redwood deck overlooking one of the property’s many water features. The pond’s surface, cluttered with white, pink and yellow lotus flowers, held koi as well. The colorful carp splashed, and the sound echoed up to the deck where he and Sloane now sat enjoying their dinner.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, and he thought he might hear trepidation in her voice.
“I gave everyone the night off.”
“What? Really?”
“No, actually I told them to give me the night off, and I’m only assuming the worst of the lot. They tend to work long hours, so I don’t blame them if they ran for the closest bar or restaurant instead of the offices at Grant Oil.” He smiled at her as he poured himself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. “Would you like a glass? We have established you’re old enough.”
“No. I better not,” she said smiling at his reference to their first meeting. “I took a pill before I napped, and I don’t think I better mix the two.”
“A wise choice,” he offered and tried to look at her less rapaciously. That wasn’t easy. As she forked salmon into her mouth, David watched
“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you.”
David turned to the brick oven and busied himself with the kindling before he said, “The fire is almost the right temperature. I’ll season the salmon.”
Sloane watched as he retrieved spices from a rack near the oven and expertly blended several together before sprinkling them on the orange colored fish.
“Did your mom teach you to cook?” Sloane couldn’t help it. She always spoke her mind. It was a fault she tried to correct but accepted as inherited. Her whole family told it like it was. “Honesty is the best policy” was nearly a family creed.
David ignored her question and set the salmon on a grill he held inches above the fire. His bicep bulged provocatively, and Sloane was drawn to his side.
“This is nifty. Doesn’t it get hot holding that grate?”
“I can hook it on this bracket,” and he did so, showing her how to utilize the oven without absorbing the heat or getting burned.
“Nice,” she said and put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. He looked at her, and she could see he understood her gesture as conciliatory.
“You certainly are,” he said, and she heard avidity in the phrase. She stepped away and went back to her seat. He cooked and she peeled. When the salmon was done, he took it off the grate and Sloane moved to the stove where a pot of boiling water with a steamer basket waited. She put the vegetables into the basket and covered the pot. She turned to David, and he smiled at her.
They needed no words. They worked together like a married couple, seamlessly, easily. The thought made her blush and David noticed.
“This is really nice,” he said, and she wondered if he meant their affability or the salmon he was now expertly slicing.
“Perfect,” she agreed, and turned back to the stove top. David brought her a silver oven mitt, and she removed the steamer basket. The bright green asparagus and lemon yellow summer squash appeared cooked to perfection.
“I like them a little hard,” she said, and then amended, “I mean crisp. How about you?”
David smiled devilishly, “The harder the better as long as they’re hot.”
Chapter 6
David enjoyed watching the color bloom in Sloane’s cheeks. She said things that made him smile, that made him laugh, and he couldn’t resist her charm. When she had come downstairs in that little green dress and entered his kitchen like a goddess, he swore he heard his heart do double time. The woman stirred him physically and mentally. What could be more natural than flirting outrageously with such a woman?
“Let’s eat on the deck tonight. The weather is warm, and the fresh air will help our appetites,” he said as he led Sloane, plate in hand, to a redwood deck overlooking one of the property’s many water features. The pond’s surface, cluttered with white, pink and yellow lotus flowers, held koi as well. The colorful carp splashed, and the sound echoed up to the deck where he and Sloane now sat enjoying their dinner.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, and he thought he might hear trepidation in her voice.
“I gave everyone the night off.”
“What? Really?”
“No, actually I told them to give me the night off, and I’m only assuming the worst of the lot. They tend to work long hours, so I don’t blame them if they ran for the closest bar or restaurant instead of the offices at Grant Oil.” He smiled at her as he poured himself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. “Would you like a glass? We have established you’re old enough.”
“No. I better not,” she said smiling at his reference to their first meeting. “I took a pill before I napped, and I don’t think I better mix the two.”
“A wise choice,” he offered and tried to look at her less rapaciously. That wasn’t easy. As she forked salmon into her mouth, David watched
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