MacKenzie Fire(35)

The noodles slowly spin up onto my fork, but I’m still waiting for his reaction before I try any.

“Mmmm …” He nods, his eyes moving around the room. “Mmmm … ummm-hmmm … mmmm.” He swallows.

“Well? Is it any good?”

“Delicious.” He takes a long gulp of beer and smiles. “You can cook for me anytime.”

My entire body catches fire. I drop my fork, lean over, grab him by the sides of his head, and kiss him right on the lips. Just one kiss. Real quick. I couldn’t help myself. I quickly go back to my fork and spaghetti.

“What was that for?” he asks, bewildered.

“For complimenting the cook.” I grin and stab my fork into the pasta.

He laughs and takes another sip of beer. “Can’t wait to taste your pie.”

My hand freezes.

My fork drops out of my hand and clatters onto the plate.

My ears are positively on fire.

I look up at him and watch as he goes from smiling, to panicked, to embarrassed.

“Oh, shit,” he says in a low voice. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

I’m laughing. I can’t help it. It’s too crazy stupid not to laugh at it.

“Shut up,” he says, still smiling awkwardly.

“You can’t wait …” I point at him, laughing too hard to finish.

“Yeah, I heard myself.” He’s nodding slowly, like he’ll take the punishment he deserves.

“You can’t wait…” I’m laughing harder, still pointing.

“Yeah, yeah. Ha ha, very funny.”

“To taste my pie …” My stomach hurts so much right now. I have to hold onto the edge of the table to support myself.

He pushes on my knee under the table with his hand. “Get over yourself, you know what I meant.”

The feel of his hand on my leg sobers me up pretty quickly, but not enough to let his gaffe slide completely. I pick up my fork and get some pasta on there before I give him my response.

“Well, Ian, I am also looking forward to the day that you taste my pie. I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it.”





Chapter Fourteen





AFTER I EAT HALF MY noodles, I have to stop. I’m too nervous to finish it all, even though it doesn’t exactly suck. I’m no Top Chef of course, but at least I pulled that one off without too much of a hitch.

I’m pretty sure Ian suspects nothing. Google is my best friend today and Andie my second best. Or maybe Sarah should be my best friend, now that I’m her number two mommy. That would make Google second and Andie number three. No, wait. That doesn’t feel right. When has Andie ever been number three?

“Want to watch some TV?” Ian asks as he puts the last dish in the dishwasher. The sound of his voice pulls me off the track my brain was running on. I have to shake my head a little to get it back into reality. My last thought on the subject is that reordering priorities at my age is … difficult.

“Uhhh… TV? Sure. What’s on?” I’m glad he’s suggested something to kill time. It’s only seven o’clock and way too early for me to go to bed, even with the time difference jet lag I have going on.

“Castle. My favorite. I’ve got it on the DVR.”

“Really? I didn’t figure you for a Castle guy.”

He walks down the hall into the main living room with me right behind. “Oh yeah. Me and Castle go way back.”

We settle onto a couch, him on one end and me on the other, an entire cushion’s distance between us. There’s a knitted blanket over the back that I gather up to put on top of me since the room is kind of chilly.

“You cold? Want a fire?” He glances over at the fireplace on the far wall.

“That thing actually works?” I snuggle under the colorful throw blanket and peek out over the edge at him. My feet curl up under me, hoping my butt will thaw them out.

“Yeah.” He laughs. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” My garlic breath is rank and it’s billowing up around my nose, making it hard to breathe. I have to pull my face away from the blanket to get some fresh oxygen so I can finish my thought. “All the ones I’ve seen back home are just ornamental.”

He walks over to the mantel and squats down, busying himself with stacking things inside the gaping, ash-covered hole in the wall.

“This one works just fine. It’s not good for much more than this room, but that’s alright. We have central heating too.”

Once the flames have started, Ian leaves the room. He’s back in less than a minute with another glass of wine and a beer. He sets them on the coffee table in front of us before picking up the remote and sitting back down on the couch. This time, he’s a little closer to the center than he was before. I wonder if it’s on purpose. It makes me happy to think that it might be.

The show starts. I can’t help but glance over at Ian from time to time to see his facial expressions. He is so damn handsome. It’s too distracting for me to pay any attention to the actual story line.

“What do you like about this show so much?” I ask, wanting to know more about what makes Ian tick.

He shrugs, still staring at the screen. “I don’t know. I guess I like that he’s living in the city, working on his own stuff, keeping life interesting by doing different things, living a little dangerously with a sexy, take-no-crap woman by his side. And I like his sense of humor. Nathan Fillion’s a great actor.”