emotions rolled around inside. And made her nervous. “I’ll make dinner.”
“Thank you.”
She strode out of the room, confused by what she was feeling and angry for feeling anything at all.
Rena stirred the spaghetti sauce, watching as little bubbles broke on the surface sending a pungent, garlic scent into the air.
“Smells great.” Tony came up behind her, his body close again, surprising her in how quietly he appeared in her kitchen. He reached for the wooden spoon. “May I?”
She handed it to him. “I hope you don’t mind pasta tonight.”
“Are you kidding? I’m Italian. You know I love pasta.” He stirred the sauce, then lifted the spoon to his mouth, tasting it.
“What do you think?”
“Needs a little salt,” he said, then grabbed the salt shaker and added a few shakes. “There.”
“You like to cook, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I get by. When a bachelor wants to eat, he’s got to know more than how to boil water.”
“I didn’t think you’d ever have to cook a meal for yourself.”
Tony continued stirring the sauce. “When my gourmet chef was off, I had three other servants waiting on me hand and foot.” He turned to her and grinned. “You’re teasing.”
“Yeah, I’m teasing.” Then he set the wooden spoon down and stared at her. “I’m not going to apologize for how I live. I’ve earned it. Racing has afforded me a good life. But there were sixteen-hour work days, long lonely times on the road. Times when I had to cook for myself when I longed for a home cooked meal. Eating out is overrated.”
“There must have been plenty of women happy to cook for you. Never mind,” Rena said, catching herself. She didn’t really want to know. “Forget I said that.”
Tony’s expression changed, and he gave her a quick shake of the head. “Your image of me is way off.”
Rena pursed her lips. “It really doesn’t matter.”
Tony grabbed her arms gently as steam rose up from the sauce and bathed them in heat. “Yes, it does matter. I’m your husband. I care what you think of me.”
Rena stared into his eyes, unable to answer. She had mixed emotions when it came to Tony Carlino, but for the most part, she didn’t want to see any good in him. She wanted to keep him a safe distance away in her mind and heart.
When he realized she wouldn’t respond, he let her go and she went about filling a big pot of water for the pasta noodles.
Tony watched her work at the stove for a long while before he spoke again. “What can I do to help?”
Grateful to give him something to do, she barked orders. “Take out the romaine and tomatoes from the refrigerator. I think there’s a cucumber in there, too—and anything else you can find for a salad.”
She heard him going to work, and much to her surprise, he fixed a delicious salad, and, adding black olives and herbs, he made his own olive oil-based dressing.
When she walked over to taste it, she cast him a nod of approval. “Yummy.”
“My mother’s. One of a few recipes I learned from her before she died.”
Tony’s mother died when he was fifteen. Rena hadn’t known her, but she’d heard she was a saint among women. She’d have to be in order to be married to Santo Carlino. Rumor had it she’d kept him in line. When she died, Santo poured himself into building his business taking no prisoners along the way.
“And you remembered it,” Rena said. “It’s funny the things we remember about the ones we love.”
“What do you remember about your mother?” he asked.
Rena smiled wide, recalling her mother’s favorite pastime. “That’s easy. She had a morning and nightly ritual of walking three miles. No matter how tired she was, no matter the weather. She’d get into her walking clothes, put on these beat-up old shoes and go for a walk. She said it cleared the mind, cleansed the soul and kept the weight off.” Rena grinned, confessing. “My mama liked to eat.”
Tony chuckled. “That’s a good way to remember her. Walking, I mean. Not eating.”
“Hmm, yeah.” Rena blinked herself back to reality. Even with all her exercise, her mother still contracted a deadly disease. She’d lingered for years, missing her daily walks and everything else that required a bit of effort. It was a brutal reminder of the unfairness in life.
Once the meal was ready, they sat down to eat at her country oak kitchen table. She wondered what Tony thought about this rustic house.