Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“This is why we can’t have a laboratory.” I faked a stern tone before softening. “Smells good though.”
“It’s a high protein, high calcium, iron-rich recipe I’m perfecting for Maren.” Wren bustled around, not tidying the kitchen but rather flitting from tablet to cookbook to oven like a watchful hummingbird. “Whole wheat pasta, nutritional yeast, spinach, and someone shot down my idea to add liver.”
“I’m sure that was for the best,” I soothed as I stacked dirty dishes in the sink and tried to make headway on the cluttered and splattered counters. Where was Magnus? He’d be good for some scrubbing help.
Stop right there. Thoughts like those were exactly why this roommate thing was so dangerous. And then, as if I’d conjured him simply by the idle desire for some cleaning help, a very sweaty Magnus strolled into the kitchen from the deck.
“You’re home.” Magnus nodded before bending to greet his dogs, who had taken residence under the breakfast nook table. “Apologies, but I talked Wren here out of kidneys or liver in the mac and cheese. We compromised on a nice buttered wheat germ and breadcrumb crust.”
“Yum.” I gulped as I crossed to the breakfast nook and lowered my voice. “Thanks for offering the cooking advice, but are we sure the casserole will be edible?”
“It will.” Magnus gave a warm chuckle before he stood back up. And without prompting, he worked to clear the counters as easily as if he’d heard my thoughts. “My parents went through enough health food phases that I can unequivocally say that butter and copious amounts of cheddar cheese can rescue almost anything.”
“Fair enough.” I grabbed a sponge and wiped down the areas Magnus had cleared. “I take it Maren and Diesel are joining us for dinner?”
“Yep, they’re building shelves in the basement right now.” Finished with the counters, Magnus moved on to sweeping up Wren’s explosion of crumbs and cheese. Wren was, naturally, nowhere to be found while the cleanup was happening. I’d have to dole out a lecture later, but at the moment, I enjoyed the simple pleasure of cleaning with a willing helper. Didn’t hurt that Magnus’s ass looked spectacular when he bent to use the dustpan. “I’ve been working on that old dog run behind the carriage house you said I could use. Way more blackberry vines and weeds than I expected, but I’ll get it done.”
Jonas’s dog Oz had been old and not prone to running, so Jonas had never needed the dog run—a long, narrow, fenced area behind the carriage house. Magnus’s plan was to add a dog door to the carriage house for when he had to work.
“I can help after dinner.” There I went, offering to spend yet more time with the man. And not simply out of guilt that the area had stood neglected most of the time I’d owned the house. “Hopefully, it cools down some.”
“I’ll take that help if you’re not too tired from your shift.” Magnus gave me another of his easy smiles, giving me an out a smarter man would take.
“Nah.” I stretched, hoping the sunburn on the back of my neck didn’t show. “It was a pretty slow day. Some yard work would be good for me, wear me out enough to sleep at a normal time.”
“Oh, I can wear you out.” Magnus gave me the wink and suggestive tone I’d walked right into.
“Shouldn’t you be at your restaurant?” I wagged a finger at him far more playfully than I’d intended.
“The advantage of having good staff is being able to take a few days off to deal with an emergency like the fire.” Magnus’s voice turned slightly more pointed. “You eager to get rid of me already?”
Yes. But luckily, I was saved by the ding of the oven timer and the return of Wren, followed by Diesel and Maren clomping up the stairs from the basement. At dinner, I let the kids dominate the conversation, enduring a step-by-step recap of Wren’s cooking experiments and a cuddly rendition of the newlywed bliss found in assembling flat-pack Swedish furniture from Maren. She and Diesel wanted to paint an alcove they’d designated for the baby, and a lively discussion of low VOC paints took us to cleanup without me having to meet Magnus’s gaze once.
Maren and Diesel volunteered to do the dishes, with Maren bodily dragging Wren along to help, which left me alone in the dining room with Magnus.
“Shall we weed?” He made a grand gesture like a butler announcing a royal guest.
“Yardwork never sounded better.” I had to laugh as I followed him to the backyard.
“Technically, the dogs are fine for the moment.” He pointed to their sleeping forms near their food bowls. I wasn’t sure exactly when they and their owner planned to begin sleeping in the carriage house, but they had certainly made themselves at home in my kitchen. “But I need more work to justify a serving of the flan I brought back from the restaurant. Technically, as a peace offering for you, but there’s enough for everyone.”