Mistletoe Magic (Paradise Place #6) - Natalie Ann Page 0,10
people don’t always like making big meals if they are single, but the truth is, I enjoy well-cooked food. I would have made this for myself and then just had it leftover or froze some of it for another meal.”
“You freeze cooked pasta?” he asked.
“You can freeze just about anything if you want to.” She opened her freezer and he started to laugh.
“Wow. Guess you are pretty organized.”
There were containers and air sealed packages all labeled and lined up. “Looks like you don’t need to cook for a long time.”
“It’s a ton of fruits and vegetables. I like fresh farm stuff if I can get it. Which is only a few months a year for most things. So I bought what I could and cooked or froze the rest.”
“Smart,” he said. He wanted to say economical, but money wasn’t an issue for her. Yet you wouldn’t know that looking around.
She’d paid cash for this house, which was only a tiny fraction of the settlement she got. She still worked and dental hygienists made decent money to begin with, even if she only worked part time.
Her SUV was an average run of the mill, nothing flashy or overly expensive. Even her clothing didn’t scream millionaire.
She didn’t like eyes on her and he could appreciate that fact, as he wasn’t too thrilled when they were on him either. There had been plenty in his life.
“I’m simple. I guess that’s always been a problem for some, but I can’t change who I am at the core of things nor do I want to.”
“And you shouldn’t,” he said. “Shrimp is all done. Now what?”
“Now you sit down and relax. After you wash your hands again. I don’t think you want to smell like fish all night.”
“Very true.” He’d already washed them once but held them to his face and the scent still lingered there.
“Why don’t you open this bottle of wine and pour us each a glass. This is a fast and easy dinner to make.”
“Once the shrimp are cleaned,” he pointed out.
“And I had you here to do that for me.”
She opened two more drawers, found a bottle opener, then went to a glass-covered cabinet and grabbed two glasses.
Hot water was in a pan on the stove. “Have a sip. Hope it’s fine?”
“You can’t go wrong with a chardonnay. I’m a white wine drinker. I don’t drink it often, but red has never been my thing unless I’m putting it in spaghetti sauce. Then I hope I have someone over to drink the rest or I end up trying to find food to make with the remaining bottle.”
“I can have a glass of wine anytime. I’m not a snob about it, but I’d rather have a beer.”
“What do you drink?” she asked. “I’ll make sure I get some to have here.” She paused when she said that. “Sorry. Jumping the gun. Ignore that.”
“It’s nice. I drink a variety of things. This time of year a nice craft stout hits the spot.”
She opened another drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “There, I wrote it down. If you want to put some brands there, that would help.”
He couldn’t remember the last time any woman went out of their way to find out what he liked and made a note of it. Least of all the first time they were together.
He did as she’d said and then sat back on the barstool and watched her cook. The water was boiling so she dumped the pasta in, then put a pan on the stove and got to work on the shrimp.
Less than ten minutes later they both had a plate and were sitting on her deck. The sun was setting, it was quiet, and it was almost romantic.
By nine they’d talked about so much but not a ton of their personal lives, more about the area, things to do, hobbies they liked and so on.
They’d finished off the bottle of wine, they’d had a few chocolates each, and now he figured he should take his leave.
“I hadn’t expected this tonight when I stopped over with a house warming gift.”
“I’m glad you did though. Can I be honest with you?”
“Always,” he said.
“I was hoping I’d run into you again. I thought this might be my only shot and I took it.”
“Then I guess that makes two of us that were happy I came here.”
She walked him to the door and he just decided to go with his gut, leaned in and lightly brushed his lips to