Zero Forks - Cat Johnson Page 0,18

closing. Followed closely by the aroma of barbecued steak.

I peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear.

Boone, of course, caught me. His face broke into a smile when he realized what I was doing.

“It’s safe. They’re gone,” he said.

I couldn’t deny that’s exactly what I’d been checking for, so I didn’t try, and instead made a beeline for my glass.

“Hungry?” Boone asked, his gaze tracking my path as I headed from the wine. “Dinner’s ready.”

Stewie had eaten something else earlier. This was the adult meal and I couldn’t deny it smelled really good.

It looked good too and no doubt it would taste just as wonderful. Still, my stomach twisted after that phone call with Liza.

But Boone had cooked and I had to be polite. “Sure. Thanks.”

Luckily, my hunger and my taste buds overrode my upset stomach. After the first bite of the juicy steak, grilled to perfection, I dug into the rest with enthusiasm.

So did Boone and boy, could he pack it away. In fact, watching Boone eat was an adventure all its own.

He polished off an entire steak, three ears of corn dripping in butter, and one huge sweet potato.

The good news was, he ate and drank single-mindedly and I didn’t have to make small talk or hold up my end of the conversation.

When his plate was clean, save for the bare cobs from the corn, I said, “That was really good. Thank you for making it. And for bringing it.”

“My pleasure. Ain’t nothing like a good steak and fresh corn on the grill.” He leaned back with a sigh, his hands on his perfectly flat belly as I wondered where he put all that food.

Not that I was staring at his chest or anything, but I did notice there was a small spot on his T-shirt.

“You’ve got a little . . .” I pointed to his shirt where there was a dot of red. Spilled red wine maybe or possibly steak juice.

Boone glanced down. “Shit.”

Before I knew what was happening, he’d whipped his shirt off and was headed toward the kitchen faucet to rinse it.

I should have looked away, but I could no sooner do that than I could speak. The sight of Boone’s rock-hard muscles, bronzed from the summer sun, had rendered me speechless.

“I think it’ll come out in the wash.” He glanced up and caught me staring at him.

As an excuse for my stare, anything other than the reality that I wanted to jump him, I said, “How do you stay in such good shape with all you eat?”

“So, you think I’m in good shape, huh?” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “Humble, much?”

“Always.” He grinned wider. “But seriously, I take it from your question that you never worked on a farm.”

I was pretty sure he didn’t need a yes or no answer to that since it must be obvious I’d never done anything even remotely agricultural, other than murdering my annual poinsettia purchase, usually before December twenty-fifth. I gave him an answer anyway.

Cocking up one brow, I said, “No, I have not.”

“Well, that’s how I stay in shape and that’s also why I’m always hungry as a hostage.” He carried his clean plate to the sink, then returned for mine. Staring down at the remaining steak and potato he said, “And you eat like a bird.”

“That’s because I don’t work on a farm, but instead at a desk. I have to eat like a bird if I don’t want to look like one of your prize pigs.”

“We mainly raise cattle and grow corn. No pigs. Though I’m going to have to bring you and Stewie over to meet Petunia.”

“Petunia?” I asked.

“Agnes’s pet pig,” Boone answered, as if that explained everything.

I could see this conversation was going nowhere so rather than ask who Agnes was and possibly open myself up for yet another confusing answer, I just nodded.

Mudville had an other-worldly sense to it. Like life and time moved differently here than everywhere else.

It felt a little like I’d stumbled into some alternate reality when I’d gotten off that highway exit yesterday.

It was going to be interesting, not to mention challenging, spending days in the real world at my office and nights here in this idyllic Brigadoon-like place.

As Boone continued to work cleaning the dinner mess, shirtless, I got a glimpse of what my nights in Mudville were going to like.

Interesting and challenging, indeed.

EIGHT

Sarah

Monday morning I found the office was the same as when I’d left it two days ago, so it had to