the kitchen counter. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Sorry. Yes. We’re in the right house. Becca married my brother Jack last week. That’s why we went on the cruise. It was a wedding thing, but then Wyatt got struck by lightning, fell off a volcano, and was kidnapped by drug runners.”
“I knew that last part,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Becca is your sister-in-law?”
“Yes, and she’s planning on renting this house out when she gets back from their honeymoon. I talked to her yesterday. She’s already moved most of her things into Jack’s house—now their house—in Dallas and said to tell you to feel free to move in any time, if you like it.”
Poppy perked up. “Really? Because this house is a dream.” She turned in a circle. “Is Becca an artist? It would take an artist’s eye to do what she’s done here.”
“Yeah, she’s an amazing artist. I’ll show you some of her stuff on YouTube. Rob and Jack got all the artistic creativity in the family, along with some business sense. Wyatt got the brawn. Eli got the brains and I…” He looked down at the floor. “Well, you’ll have to tell me what you think I got.” He held his breath.
She looked at him for a minute as if deciding whether or not to tell him what she thought of him. “I have a good idea, but I’ll tell you when I know you better.”
Does that mean she wants to get to know the real Damian, or bad-boy Damian? He had a serious identity crisis to deal with. “That works,” he said, motioning to the door. “Lunch?”
“Yes,” she said. “Then I need to pack…my three things.” She laughed to herself. “Do you think this cat needs company? Because I can move in tomorrow.”
Damian wanted to throw his arm in the air and shout hallelujah, but he played it cool. “By how that cat is circling your leg, I’d say he definitely needs some company.”
Ten minutes later, they stood in Damian’s kitchen with potatoes and flour on the counter.
Damian handed her an apron. “Have you ever made gnocchi?”
“You’re making me pasta?” she asked, slipping the black apron over her head and tying it around her waist.
He opened the shades on the picture window that looked out into the front yard. “No,” he said, motioning to a potato and a peeler. “We’re making pasta.”
She placed her hand on her hip and held up the potato. “Is this an Idaho joke you’re pulling?”
He laughed. “Rob has an Italian chef who says that in his hometown, it’s tradition to cook gnocchi at the end of the month. You see, the laborers were paid at the beginning of the month, so by the end of the month, money was tight. Potatoes were cheaper than flour, but they still wanted their pasta, so they mixed potato with the flour and came up with gnocchi—a pasta that’s filling and delicious. We’re almost at the end of February. Why not?”
“When in Rome,” she said.
He pointed at her. “Exactly. We need Italian music.” He found a playlist for traditional Italian music.
By the end of the first slow guitar song, the potato chunks tumbled and spurted in the boiling water. Damian pretended to focus on the garlic he was chopping for the cream sauce, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Poppy as she swayed to the melodic deep voice that piped through the house.
“You look like you could use a partner.” He knew he was pushing it, but she left him no choice when she danced in front of him like that.
“I’m not sure about this,” she said as he took her in his arms.
“I can’t dance,” he said, pretending to stumble. “Wouldn’t a friend teach another friend how to dance to avoid embarrassment?”
“Suspicious,” she said with a raised brow.
He pretended not to hear her, pulling her in a little closer as they turned in a circle.
“I said—"
He lowered his face. Brushing her cheek with his and spoke into her ear. “Auspicious? Yes, I agree with you. Everything that has happened to me since I’ve met you has been promising and highly favorable.” He released her when he felt her body tense in his arms.
Her face blushed a vibrant shade of pink. “Should we check on the potatoes?” she asked, avoiding eye contact. She straightened her apron, then leaned over the boiling pot on the stove. “Maybe we should call Kai and go over a few things. Make it a business lunch.”
Damian pressed