An Irresistible Bachelor(41)

Callie could have sworn Jack's eyes had watered briefly while he'd talked about the situation and it had taken every bit of her self-control not to reach across the table and take his hand.

Arthur was another one of Jack's soft spots. The other night the dog had come inside with a limp. Jack had gotten down on his hands and knees, in his suit, to look at the injured foot. As he'd gently probed the area, Artie had capitulated to the examination with total trust, even as he winced while a thorn was taken out. When it was all over, Jack had put some Bacitracin in between the pads, wrapped some gauze around the wound, and then fed Artie some filet mignon from his own plate. That night, the dog had wanted to sleep with him.

"Hello?" Jack prompted.

She shook her head. "Sorry. Hey, what's that fantastic smell?"

"Thomas's marinara sauce, I believe."

"Thomas?"

"Our erstwhile cook." He frowned. "You haven't seen him during the day? "

"No, I stay up in the garage."

"All day long? Until I come home? Don't you eat?"

She shrugged. "I lose track of time and forget."

"Where's your watch?"

"I don't have one."



He grumbled something under his breath while taking her elbow and urging her ahead. The contact burned and she closed her eyes briefly, letting him lead her into the kitchen.

"I think you will like Thomas."

As she fought against the urge to lean into Jack's body, she thought maybe it was a good thing this other guy was coming. Maybe she'd really like him and her mind would get taken off of Jack.

When they got to the kitchen, she was surprised to see a man with only one arm holding a pot of boiling water over a sieve in the sink. She doubted she could have handled the load with two hands, but the guy looked perfectly at ease as he tipped the handle and sent a torrent of hot water and pasta over the lip.

"Thomas, I've got someone for you to meet."

The cook looked over his shoulder. He was probably around sixty, she thought, and had a face like a bulldog with the short, stocky body to match. She caught a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under his short-sleeved shirt and noticed there was a small gold hoop in his earlobe. She never would have guessed a roughneck like him would be in charge of Buona Fortuna's kitchen. She imagined the chef would have been some whip-thin Continental with a haughty attitude to match Mrs. Walker's.

Thomas sent her a grin and Callie liked him on the spot.

"So this is who's been stealing food out of my refrigerator," he said. The man had a terrific New England accent marked by flat vowels and hard,

lingering consonants. "Every morning I come down and fruit's gone out of my bowl, someone's been into the eggs, and bread's gone. Just like there's breakfast being made."

He put the pan to the side and came over. His kitchen whites were spotless, she noted, except for the dishtowel that hung from his belt and had a couple of red smudges on it.

As they shook hands, she noticed that he had a tattoo of an anchor on the inside of his forearm. A seaman, she thought.

"So what are we eating, chef?" Jack asked, going over to the cupboards and taking out a pile of dishes. He proceeded to set the low-slung oak table that was in front of a bay window.

"My marinara sauce. For a cold night like tonight, it's just what you need before hitting the sack."

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Bless your heart. I'm starved."

"Yeah, it's your mother we can't get to eat around here." As Arthur came over to Thomas and looked up at him, the man laughed. "But this one, we can't get to stop with the munching. Can we?"

The dog waved his tail and licked his chops.

"So what are your plans for tonight?" Jack asked as he pulled out some linen napkins.

"Got a date with the sweet Angelina."

Jack laughed. "She's still around?"

"Son, you don't turn down a woman like that. She's got special skills with her—” Thomas paused and glanced at Callie. "Er-she's a great conversationalist."



Callie grinned as the man took off his apron and tossed it into a hamper in the corner. "I'm heading up to shower and then I'm going out. Don't wait up."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Jack replied.

"Nice to meet you, Callie."