All Consuming (Brotherhood by Fire #3) -Jaci Burton Page 0,15
the side because you said you don’t eat a lot of meat.”
He remembered. That was sweet. “Oh. Who’s making dinner?”
He smiled. “I am. For you.”
Her heart did a tumble. “Really? So we’re having dinner here?”
“I thought it would be better than sitting in a noisy restaurant.” He went over to the fridge. “Beer or wine? I’ve got both. I’ve got a rosé and a sauvignon blanc in the fridge, or if you want red I’ve got a pinot noir in the cabinet.”
He made dinner. For her.
She absolutely would not swoon.
“I’d love the pinot noir.”
“Sure.” He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator for himself, then pulled the bottle out of the cabinet.
After pouring the red, he handed her the glass.
“Thanks. This is an awful lot of work for you.”
He took a seat at the island next to her. “What is?”
“Cooking.”
“I had the day off. You didn’t. And I like to cook.”
He liked to cook? That was new. “Since when? Because you didn’t cook in high school.”
“I had other things on my mind in high school. Sports. Hanging out with my friends. You.”
She felt that flutter all through her nerve endings. “So when did the cooking thing come to life?”
“College and after, when my mom wasn’t around to cook for me. And once you become a firefighter, you’re on shift for twenty-four hours. It’s not like they have a chef at the fire station. They teach you right away that one of the duties you share in is cooking, and you damn well better not suck at it. My parents were both great about teaching all of us boys to cook decent meals.”
“Good for them. It’s nice to have guys who know how to fix something other than a burger on the grill.”
His lips curved. “I can do that, too. And a steak. And anything else that goes on the grill.”
“Of course you can. But not tonight.”
“No, I figured you might want something a little homier.”
“Hey, I gave up my mom’s homemade enchiladas to be here with you.”
He leaned back. “And you didn’t cancel our date to stay home and eat? Because I’ve had your mom’s enchiladas. I still remember how good they are.”
“Trust me. I considered it. Mom wouldn’t let me cancel.”
He took a swallow of beer, then smiled at her. “Remind me to thank your mom. I’m glad you came.”
She picked up her glass and took a sip. It was a good pinot, smooth and mellow. She took another swallow, then set the glass down and looked around. “So where’s your brother and his fiancée?”
“He was going to pick her up after work tonight, then they were going out to dinner and to check out a wedding venue and a band.”
“So they want a live band for the wedding?”
“They’re thinking about it, but they’re still undecided. They picked a date, though.”
“And when’s the big day?”
“July next year.”
“That doesn’t give them much time to put a wedding together.”
“Oh, trust me. Becks is organized and so is Jackson. They’ll get it done. She’s already been dress shopping, they’ve got the caterer nailed down, and next week they’ve got an appointment with the cake person.”
“Mmm, I love cake.”
“Do you? I didn’t think about dessert. I can whip up a cake.”
She swirled her finger around the rim of her glass, trying to figure out just who Kal was now. He cooked, and he was telling her he baked, too? “Just like that?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a three-tiered piece of art or anything. But sure.”
“I might just let you do that. Just to watch the master at work.”
He slanted a look at her. “Funny. I’m not Martha Stewart. I just throw shit in a bowl, mix it up, toss it in a pan and see what comes out.”
“Now I have to see this.”
“Okay, then. Let’s make a cake. We’ve got about thirty minutes before the food comes out of the oven. Plenty of time.”
He scrolled through his phone, settled on a recipe, then started compiling ingredients.
“What can I do to help?” Hannah asked.
“Grab the hand mixer from the cabinet down there.” He motioned with his hand to the location, so she crouched down and found the hand mixer and plugged it in. By then he already had the ingredients in the bowl and started mixing them together.
“What else?”
He pulled his attention from the phone. “You can set the table. Dishes are in the cabinet left of the sink. Utensils right here.”
He motioned again, and she was happy that he wasn’t treating her like a