Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I stared at him for a moment. “Whoa. What are you, some sort of top chef?”
He laughed but looked mildly embarrassed like he hadn’t meant to get quite so enthusiastic about the topic of appetizers. I’d liked watching his eyes fill with the spark that had been in them while he spoke though, as he came alive in some way, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on since I’d just met the man. “Sorry. No. But I’ve always loved to cook, since I was young. I work with spreadsheets most of the day, but I’ve taught myself a thing or two in the kitchen. The real point here is that everyone loves crab cakes and they go with liquor a hell of a lot better than…carrot cake.”
I laughed despite myself. “That was red velvet I gave you.”
His eyes widened, and his mouth did a small twisting thing. “That was not red velvet.”
“It was!”
He appeared deeply pained. “It had raisins in it.”
“It makes them special.”
“It definitely does do that.”
I snorted. “Watch it, Ivy League.”
He grinned. “How about I show you a quick recipe. I bet they’ll sell better, and you’ll be off the baking hook.”
I sized him up. “Is this your way of making up for that dive bar comment? We don’t need your pity recipe here.”
“It wouldn’t be a pity recipe. And I didn’t mean that dive bar comment the way it sounded.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I meant your establishment is a place where you can feel comfortable being yourself. The people in a bar like this are genuine and helpful and don’t put on airs. Believe me when I tell you I’ve had a bellyful of airs and walking into this place felt like taking a deep breath. That feeling only increased as I spent more time here.”
“Okay, that was a good answer,” I admitted. “Still, you must be tired. There’s a bed up the street waiting for you.”
He shrugged, his expression enigmatic. I wanted him to stay and teach me how to make crab cakes. I wanted to watch him laugh and get that surprised look on his face when I said something he obviously hadn’t expected. I knew I made bad decisions where men were concerned. I knew that I’d only ever be a one-night fling to a man like this. But he was only in town for the night. No expectations. No promises. “Yes, I do have a bed up the street,” he answered. “With three snoring drunk men in the room.” He smiled, but it quickly dropped. “I’d like to teach you how to make crab cakes if you’ll let me. No strings. Just a thank you for helping us out of a bind.”
“I could have made it easier. I sort of gave you the runaround, only without the sort of.”
“I know.”
I laughed, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden. When I glanced up at him from under my lashes, he was watching me with that intense look that told me if I went up on my tiptoes and kissed him, he’d kiss me back.
Crab cakes, Rory. Just crab cakes. “Fine then, teach me your crab cake ways.” I raised a finger. “But only if you let me treat you to a drink this time.”
He grinned. “Absolutely.”
He followed me back out to the bar where I opened a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses and handed him one. We clinked. “To Ernest Buffalobeam,” he said.
I laughed. “Best lights salesman in Mud Gulch.”
As we entered the kitchen, scratching suddenly sounded at the back door. Gage looked up at me questioningly. I set my wine glass down and hurried to the refrigerator where I removed a pile of takeout containers I’d prepared toward the end of my shift. “Hold on,” I said. “This will just take a second.”
I exited the kitchen and made my way to the back door where the scratching sounds were getting louder. “Hold on, hold on,” I said as I twisted the lock and pulled the heavy door open. My smile was instantaneous as I went down on my knees to greet the hungry visitors, setting the containers on the floor.
The four dogs all came toward me in a rush of wet noses and doggy kisses as I laughed. “Okay, step back, and I’ll give you your dinner,” I said as I reached for the containers. They danced around and whined but made room for me to open each box and set them on the ground one by one.
I stood up as they started hungrily eating, glancing at Gage who was standing a little behind me on the other side of the doorway, his lips tilted in a small smile.
“Gage, meet Loki, Alamo, Katniss, and Tahoe,” I said, pointing at one after the other.
The dogs finished their food and Gage stepped forward, squatting as he let each dog sniff his hand before petting them sort of tentatively. They leaned into him, clearly smitten, and my heart gave a hard knock. “Hey, guys,” he said. “This must be a regular thing.” He glanced up at me. “Do they need homes?”