Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Guess that would be another one of his many talents.
But I’ll keep that observation to myself.
Otherwise, the guy will get a big head.
All right…a bigger head. It swells up any more and he won’t fit through the door.
A strange warmth spreads through my veins at the idea of Colby preparing dinner with me in mind.
“What are you best known for?”
He purses his lips as a thoughtful expression fills his eyes.
I hate to admit how adorable it makes him look.
Ugh.
This is bad.
“If I was forced to pick just one thing, I’d say that my lasagna is pretty amazing.”
My brows rise. “Really?” I’ve watched chefs make the dish on cooking shows. That particular entree seems both time consuming and labor intensive.
“If it’s easier, you could just whip up something like grilled cheese and tomato soup or spaghetti.” Even Mom was capable of boiling noodles and emptying a jar of sauce into a pan.
He frowns. “You’re not a fan of lasagna?”
“No, I love it. I’m just saying that if it’s…” My voice trails off as I shrug.
His eyes widen as he straightens to his full height. “Wait a minute…you don’t think I have the skills? Is that what you’re insinuating?”
The shock that reverberates in his voice is enough to make me laugh. “I didn’t say that!”
He crosses his arms against his chest and glares. “You didn’t have to. It was implied. Which essentially boils down to a challenge. So, grab your purse and let’s pick up the ingredients I need from the store.” He throws a glance at my fridge. “And we’re going to have to fix that sad state of affairs while we’re at it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You have a few yogurts, diet soda, and a block of cheese. That won’t do. We need healthy options.”
I grumble before snagging my purse off the breakfast bar as we head to the door.
Forty minutes later, we’re back with four bags overflowing with groceries. Only one is for the dinner Colby is dead set on making. The rest is a mix of protein bars, healthy baked chips, unsalted nuts, low carb granola, cartons of eggs, turkey sausage, quinoa, tons of ground turkey, along with fruits and veggies.
I didn’t realize he was such a clean eater.
The things you learn about someone when you live together.
I almost wince at that thought.
He unpacks all the ingredients, spreading them out on the counter.
“Do you need any help?” Not that I would know where to begin.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Why don’t you sit down and keep me company while I throw everything together.”
I settle on the chair as he moves around the kitchen with ease. He might not be familiar with mine in particular and where everything is stored, but that doesn’t seem to matter. He places a large pan on the stove and ignites the burner. When it’s hot, he adds the chicken sausage and breaks it up into smaller pieces with a wooden spoon. Then he fills an oversized pot with water and adds a few shakes of salt to it before setting it to boil.
There’s something soothing about watching Colby cook. Now that he’s preoccupied, I’m able to stare at him to my heart’s content. My gaze drops to his hands as he chops a few bulbs of garlic before adding it to the meat and stirring. Once the chicken sausage has browned, he adds a large can of organic tomato sauce to the pan and sets it to simmer before cracking two eggs in a bowl and then adding them to a ricotta mixture.
The guy is definitely skilled with his hands.
As that thought tumbles through my head, I gulp and force my attention away. It wouldn’t take much to get used to him in my space.
And that’s the last thing I want.
We weren’t meant for the long haul.
Sadness flares to life inside me before I snuff it out.
I’m pulled from the tangle of my thoughts when he says, “You mentioned that your family is now in California. Where’d you live before that?”
I blink and refocus my attention. Even though I don’t like talking about my past, it’s better than dwelling on the lifespan of this marriage.
“Actually, it wasn’t that far from here.”
He glances at me in surprise. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“Do you have family in the area? Is that why you decided to attend Western?”
I clear my throat and admit something I probably should’ve earlier. “I do.” There’s a pause before I confess, “Sully.”
This time, he stops and swings toward me in surprise. “Sully? The owner of Slap Shotz?”
A smile quirks the corners of my lips. “The one and only.”
“I didn’t know that. Is he your uncle?”
When he continues to stare, I pop to my feet and beeline to the cabinet for a glass before filling it with cold water from the fridge. “Yeah. Guess I forgot to mention it earlier.”