Wild Man Creek (Virgin River #14)(73)

“When do I meet him?” Kelly asked.

“Now, if you’re ready. He’s here. Painting upstairs in the sunroom. Waiting for you to get here.”

Thirteen

Colin had never before met a woman who traveled with spices, condiments and recipes. He supposed it should come as no surprise that Kelly had stopped at the grocery store on her way into town to buy the food she wanted to prepare and eat—she was a chef, after all. Wherever she went, she cooked. But recipes in a locked box, the case of spices and another of condiments—this was interesting. And her cases were more like tool boxes with handles so she could carry them with her wherever she went. And then there were her knives—special knives that could slice your finger off if you didn’t know what you were doing. She always had a set of her own knives with her in case she’d be cooking, and if she was going to be eating, she’d probably be cooking.

After meeting Kelly and visiting for a while Colin had taken a place at the kitchen table with his laptop, watching and listening as the girls cavorted around the kitchen. Their choreography combined with chatter was interesting; they had a system for everything. Kelly was the leader in this venue: “Chop this tomato very small, no bigger than your baby fingernail. Mince the parsley and I mean mince. So this Denny helps around the garden? I don’t remember you telling me about him.”

“This size?” Jilly asked. “Sure you do—I told you all about him. Did I tell you I thought he asked me on a date?”

Colin’s ears perked up at that.

“That size is good. No way! A date?”

“I misunderstood—he was offering to take me to Jack’s for supper because he thought I wasn’t getting out enough. So I told him I had Colin.” She shot him a look with a smile. “Now he feels better about things. He didn’t really want to date me at all. Which is good because I wouldn’t have considered it under any circumstances, even if I didn’t have Colin. And I’d hate to fire him—he’s indispensable.”

“And awful young,” Kelly said.

“Awful,” Jilly agreed. “You still seeing that cook?”

“Chef, not cook. Preacher’s a cook, Luca is a chef. We’re really just friends. Friends with potential. We talk on the phone, text, email and sometimes cook together, but neither of us has much free time. Those pieces are getting too big, Jill.”

“Sorry. Maybe you should find a way to have more time. Is he well-known, your chef?”

“In culinary circles I suppose he is. That’s probably what attracted me in the first place. We talk food.”

“Hmm. I guess that can’t be any more boring than talking seeds….”

Colin laughed out loud and both women turned to look at him. “Is that so?” he asked, grinning. “Just so you know, Jilly never bores me.”

It was interesting to him that Jilly had referred to Kelly as very beautiful, as though she could be more beautiful than Jilly. They were different enough that if you hadn’t looked at their eyes and smiles you might not think of them as sisters. Jilly was tall and trim with chestnut hair that was smooth; her eyes were large and brown and, as Colin knew only too well, they could become even darker and sultry when she was getting turned on. Kelly, by comparison, was shorter, rounder, had blond hair full with loose curls and blue eyes. But their eyebrows had identical arches. Their teeth—perfect and straight—were the same shape. Their lips were different, but their smiles were alike.

It made sense to him that a gardener would be slim, muscular and tan while a chef would be more curvaceous, fuller, rounder, her skin more ivory. It didn’t take much observation to appreciate how much hard work it must be to create dish after dish in a busy kitchen, yet he thought the gardening was still more physically demanding. Kelly looked like a gorgeous chef while Jilly looked like a heart-stopping athlete.

He realized Jilly looked as if she could ski the Alps, jump out of an airplane, dive in a coral reef…go on a safari. Play with him by day, heat up his sheets by night, pass the quiet time in sweet camaraderie, challenge him with her wit, appreciate those qualities in him that no one else ever took the time to notice…. What was this? A mate? He saw a partner, a friend, a lover impossible to forget or replace.

He shook his head absently. Colin didn’t mate. But then, according to her history and what she told him about herself, neither did Jilly. While he’d had many women and assumed he’d never settle down to one, Jilly had had few men in her life and thought that one day there might be one for the long term, but she didn’t count on it. Neither of them had ever had a romantic partner who’d tempted them to a permanent relationship. He and Jill were so alike…yet so different.

There was one thing tickling the edges of his mind, however. He was falling in love with her. This was a first. He wondered if this might have happened to him long ago if he had just slowed down enough. He searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall a single woman he wanted in the way he wanted Jilly. His Jilly. He had a very real urge to make her his so that no other man would ever touch her, so that she would always belong to him.

“Can you close up shop now, Colin?” Jilly asked him, tapping the laptop. “Kelly has hors d’oeuvres ready and then dinner.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “She’s going to make our cooking look pretty pathetic, isn’t she?”