The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(25)

Wait, warned the part of her that was conditioned to expect the worst. Her index finger hovered above his name. Calling him a second night in a row was just asking for trouble. But she’d have to thank him eventually. Before her over-cautious side won out, she punched in his number. Her pulse thrummed and her ears roared like the sound of a seashell held to her ear as she waited for him to pick up.

“Santos.”

“Your sausage is amazing.” Gaaa! Her head went back and her eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment.

“No complaints so far,” he shot back lightly.

Her face was on fire. Why did she even try? When it came to flirting, Manolo was a pro and she was bush league.

“Oh, you mean my risotto? For a second there, I thought you were talking about something else.”

“You know what I mean,” she replied miserably.

He laughed good-naturedly.

“Next time you’re talking to your father, tell him his risotto changed my life.”

At that, there was only silence on the other end.

“Manolo?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear me?”

“I’m picturing you there in the kitchen,” he said silkily, changing the subject. “Am I right? Is that where you are?”

She nodded though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah.” Brilliant.

“Someday I’m—” He cut himself off.

“Someday, what?”

Now he was the one who hesitated.

“Tell me.” Her pulse thrilled simply to be on the phone with him.

“I was going to say someday I’m going to have a kitchen like yours. But that’s not important.”

“Then why would you go there in the first place?”

“I don’t know. Forget it.”

“What’s wrong with admitting you want a nice kitchen? It’s no secret you like to cook.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also no secret I don’t plan on settling down any time soon. Any time at all, for that matter.”

Her thudding heart sank. “You made that pretty clear the first day we met.”

“I don’t make any bones about it. I’m up-front like that. Got too many other things to do.”

“You mean like building things?”

“That. And seeing the world. I started out with the goal to visit every continent and there’re only two left, Australia and Antarctica. I stay in one place too long, I start getting antsy. That’s why I joined the service in the first place. But now that my tour is up, I still like being a vagabond.”

“I’m just the opposite. I never lived in one place more than three years when I was growing up.”

“Sounds like heaven to me.”

“Maybe for you, but it made me feel like I didn’t know where I belonged.”

“Who needs roots?”

“I do, I guess. I was always envious of my Missouri cousins who’d grown up in the same town and had friends they’d known all their lives.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have friends. A girl like you?”

“Oh, I had friends. But never what you’d call old friends, not back then. Everyone I knew was just like me—a military brat from somewhere else. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I realized my cousins were the rule and I was the exception, that not everyone in the world moved every three years.”

“Staying in one place your whole life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. People expect things out of you. They know everything there is to know about you, your parents, everyone. They’ve been witness to every little misstep you ever made.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“Hmph. You know what they say. Grass is always greener.”

“But where’s all your stuff? You must have a home base somewhere.”

“I have a couple of storage sheds back east, near my folks’ place. Does that count?”

“A storage shed is hardly the same thing as a home. How does that work? I’m still not sure I understand exactly what it is you do to make a living.”

“I look for contract jobs in project management. There’s plenty to choose from, long as you’re not picky about location—which I’m not. And when there’s nothing that lights me up, I squeeze in some volunteer work.”

“Is that what you’re doing for Sam? Volunteering?”

“No. Supervising Sam’s project is a real, paying job. The nonprofit I consult for is called Engineers With Compassion.”

“What do they do?”

“Whatever they can to help meet basic human needs. On my first assignment, floods washed out the only road leading to this remote village in El Salvador. We went in with heavy equipment and hauled boulders as big as cars out of a ravine so the kids could get back to school and their mothers could get to town to buy food. The mission after that, we installed a solar power plant in a children’s home in India. Then, last year, I was project manager on a school reconstruction right here in the States, in a poor part of Arizona.”

“I’m impressed.”

“People need help everywhere you look. The little I do barely scratches the surface. Why shouldn’t I lend a hand? I got nothing tying me down. And I like it that way.”