A Lie for a Lie (All In) - Helena Hunting Page 0,18
the fridge beside me. Her braid slips over her shoulder, skimming my arm.
“Uh, maybe we could forgo the garlic?”
“Are you allergic? My oldest brother gets bloated when he eats it. It took us forever to figure out what was causing it. Sometimes I’ll still put some in when he’s coming for dinner, because it’s funny to see him look like he’s expecting.” She tips her head to the side. “Or you just don’t like garlic?”
“I like it sometimes, but it depends.”
Her brows pinch together. “On what?”
“Who I’m eating with. I mean, if I’m going out with buddies, you bet I’m gonna order the honey garlic wings, or the cheesy garlic bread, or the pasta Alfredo. But if I’m eating dinner with a pretty girl, I’m gonna pass on the garlic.”
“Oh.” She twists the end of her braid around her finger.
Shit. I hope I’m not reading things wrong and making her uncomfortable.
“Does that mean you think I’m pretty?”
That she sounds genuinely curious as to my answer is unexpected. “You see yourself in the mirror every day—what do you think?”
She averts her gaze, still playing with the end of her braid. “My eyes are too big, so I always look like I’m surprised. My nose is small, and my lips are too full, so my mouth doesn’t really fit the rest of my face.”
“Wow. I think you need a new mirror, because all I see is a whole lot of gorgeous.”
She snorts a laugh and waves me off. “Once, I took a portrait class, and we learned all about proportion and symmetry of the face. Those are just my flaws based on what I was taught.”
“Well, I’m a big fan of all your flaws, and I think they make you more beautiful, not less.”
“Thanks. I think you’re beautiful too.” She cringes. “I mean handsome. You’re very nice to look at, with or without a shirt on. When I fell in your lap on the airplane, I remember thinking, At least I fell on someone nice looking.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.” She opens a drawer, maybe to avoid looking at me. “And as much as I was mortified when you sat beside me on the Cessna, I couldn’t complain about the view, inside or outside of the plane. That you turned out to be really nice, and just so helpful, was a great bonus.” She hands me a roll of foil. “Why don’t you wrap the potatoes? They take the longest, so we should get started on those first.”
I put the potatoes on the barbecue and let Lainey order me around. She definitely knows her way around a kitchen. When I was growing up, my mom did most of the cooking, but my dad could make a mean Saturday-morning brunch. He also made great bread, which I miss a lot.
An hour later we’re seated at the table, plates full of steak, twice-baked potatoes, and crispy brussels sprouts cooked in bacon fat. I open a bottle of red wine and offer Lainey a glass.
“Just a little bit? I’m not sure I like red wine.”
“Maybe you just haven’t had the right red wine.” I pour a little into her glass.
She picks it up and gives it a swirl, then sniffs it. “I’ve seen people do this in the movies, but I don’t really know what the point is,” she admits, then tips the glass back and takes a tentative sip. Her expression turns thoughtful; then she takes another, slightly more robust sip. “This is actually really nice. I like it. Maybe the red wine I had before was bad.”
“Maybe. Some of the cheap stuff tastes pretty awful.” I pour more into her glass before filling mine. I hold up my glass and wait for her to raise hers. “To chance meetings.”
“To new adventures and great company to share them with.” We toast and take a sip, each smiling behind the rim.
Dinner is fantastic. I can get by on my own, but back home I have someone come in to prep my meals for me, because I don’t have a lot of time during the season and my diet is pretty strict. Nothing beats a good meal cooked by someone who knows what they’re doing.
“Tell me more about your family.”
“Like what?” She pops a brussels sprout into her mouth and chews thoughtfully.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“They’re dairy farmers. I have to admit, I haven’t missed getting up at the crack of dawn to milk cows the past couple of days, although there really hasn’t been