An Unlocked Mind (Secrets #2)(35)

And there was the first thing that had unsettled him. More than anything, Rob had wanted that hand on his shoulder.

He’d pasted on a smile. “I’m fine. Just not looking forward to work, I suppose.”

“Who does?” Vic grinned. “Anyone who says they love waking up on Monday morning either has their dream job or they’re deranged.” He placed a jar of raspberry jam on the table next to the syrup. “Okay, dig in.” He speared a piece of toast for himself, put it on his own plate, and then reached for the butter and jam.

Rob stared. “Is that how you do french toast?”

Vic paused, knife in hand, and stared back. “Why—how do you make it?”

“Mum used to mix up a couple of eggs, dip in the bread until it had soaked in, then cook it in the frying pan.”

Vic appeared horrified. “Just egg? Nothing else?” When Rob still hadn’t moved, Vic held up his forkful of toast. “I give you fair warning. I will not be saving you any of this. So if you don’t grab some now, you’ll lose out.” He fixed Rob with an amused expression. “Eat, boy.”

Rob’s breathing quickened. He dropped his gaze to the food and cut off a piece. Oh my God. That first mouthful was a delight, and absolutely nothing like any french toast he’d ever eaten. There was a hint of…. “Vanilla?” he asked, licking his lips.

Vic nodded. “I went on a trip to Chicago a few years ago, and the people I stayed with gave me their recipe. Milk, vanilla, flour, and salt, along with just a pinch of powdered sugar. It makes a batter that cooks up fluffy and light. Sheer heaven.”

For some reason Rob found Vic’s description amusing. For a man so large, he had a soft side to him too.

“It smells delicious,” Rob said. He pointed to the maple syrup. “Now I understand. Don’t Americans drown their breakfast in that?”

Vic chuckled. “Pretty much. Syrup on bacon is definitely an acquired taste.” He opened the bottle and poured a little over his toast, then made a puddle of it on his plate. “Care to try?”

Rob gave a shrug. “Why not?” He dipped another forkful of toast into the syrup and cautiously tasted it. He nodded with enthusiasm. “That’s not bad.”

Vic opened the jar of jam. “Now this.” When Rob screwed up his face, Vic laughed. “Don’t knock it until you try it.” He cocked his head to one side. “You trusted me about the syrup.”

When he put it like that….

It turned out that raspberry jam on french toast was sublime too.

“See?” Vic said triumphantly. “I tell you, everything tastes good with this recipe.”

Rob wasn’t about to leave it there. “I’m sure there are some things that even you wouldn’t try.”

Vic grabbed his knife and fork and banged them on the table. “I accept that challenge.” His eyes gleamed.

Rob left his chair and went over to the large fridge. He peered inside and grinned when he saw the host of bottles and jars standing in the door rack. “Okay, then let’s try….” He picked up three containers, hiding them from Vic’s view. “Cover your eyes,” Rob told him.

Vic arched his eyebrows but complied with Rob’s instruction.

Rob returned to the table and added a little of each of the condiments to Vic’s plate. Then he cut off a piece and dipped it into the first one. “Open wide.”

Vic didn’t hesitate, and Rob carefully fed him the toast, chuckling when Vic attempted to hold on to the fork. He smacked his lips. “Hmm, ketchup. Like it.”

Not to be deterred, Rob went for the second taste sensation.

Vic frowned. “Okay, you might have me convinced that mayonnaise on french toast is not the best thing I’ve ever tried—but you could live on it if you had to.” His eyes screwed tight shut, Vic grinned. “Come on, bring on the next one.”

“This is the last,” Rob promised him, enjoying himself. He made sure the toast had plenty of sauce on it before sliding it between Vic’s lips. It was an almost sensual act, and Rob couldn’t account for the shiver that trickled down his back.

Vic froze. Grimaced. Swallowed. His eyes popped open and he shuddered. “Okay, okay, I admit defeat. Béarnaise on french toast is revolting.”

Rob laughed out loud and did a fist pump. “Yes!”

Vic made a show of wiping his mouth on a napkin, then taking a long drink of coffee.

Of course, once Vic had cooked up creamy scrambled eggs and served them with rashers of bacon and a couple of sausages, that meant it was time to go. His visit was over.

The last thing Vic had done before they’d left the house was to ask for Rob’s phone. Rob felt a twinge of shame as he handed over his cheap piece of junk, especially when Vic took out his own iPhone and gave it to him.

“Put your number in mine, and I’ll add mine to yours.”

Rob tapped the screen and brought the phone to life. He quickly added his contact information, then gave the phone back to Vic.

“Will I see you next weekend?” Vic asked.

Rob was about to say no, but then he remembered the gift Vic had given him. “Yes, I’ll be here. I mean, if it’s okay with you.”

“Yep. It’s perfectly okay. I had a great time. Maybe if you can stay the weekend, we could go see the changing of the guard.”