Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“These guys will be finished soon,” Ewan said. “We can start chopping things while we wait, though.”
The guys turned at the sound of Ewan’s voice. One was tall with wavy brown hair and blue eyes—Ryan, the bloke who’d let Dev in last time he came round. The other guy was shorter and stockier, with sandy ginger hair that was a pale imitation of Ewan’s bright red.
“Guys, this is Dev. Dev, Ryan and James.”
“Hi,” Dev said.
They mumbled greetings, seeming friendly enough, but didn’t make any effort to chat. They’d been talking amongst themselves when Dev and Ewan came in, and they went back to their conversation, which appeared to be about the merits of different brands of lager.
“I like the Mexican ones,” Ryan was saying. “They definitely taste nicer. Some of the Italian ones are good too.”
James shook his head emphatically. “Mate, they all taste the same. Seriously. I challenge you to tell any of them from a supermarket own brand in a blind taste test.”
“No way. The more expensive ones do taste better.”
“They bloody don’t.”
“They do,” Ryan insisted.
Ewan gave Dev a grin. “Ready to do some food prep?”
“Sure, let me wash my hands first.”
“Oh, yeah. Good idea. I should probably do that too.”
They washed their hands together, taking turns to rinse under the tap.
That done, Ewan started getting ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards. When he got it all assembled, it looked like a lot of food.
“We’re making a beef and broccoli stir-fry.” Ewan handed a printed recipe to Dev. It looked pretty straightforward. “Here, you start by slicing this onion while I wash the red pepper and peel some garlic and ginger.” He gave Dev a chopping board and a dangerous-looking knife.
Dev tried to remember how he’d been taught to chop onions in food tech at school. That was years ago, and he recalled cutting his finger badly in the first minute of the practical part and missing the rest of the lesson because he was sent to the school nurse to be bandaged up.
He cut the onion in half, that seemed like a good way to start.
“Um, Dev, that’s not really the best way to do it,” Ewan said.
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s easier to chop if you top and tail it first, and then cut it in half lengthways rather than the way you’ve done it.” Ewan took the knife from Dev and demonstrated. “Obviously you’ve now got four quarters rather than two halves, but see how the layers of the onion work with you if you slice it this way. You end up with nice long slices rather than odd sized chunks. Here, you finish it now.”
“Thanks.”
Once Dev was done with the onion, Ewan showed him how to chop garlic, grate ginger, deseed the red pepper, and cut that into slices too. By the time they’d broken the broccoli into florets, James and Ryan had finished cooking and taken their food and their argument about beer elsewhere.
“Just the steak to slice now.” Ewan slapped the meat onto the chopping board. “We need it in thin strips so it cooks fast. If you halve it lengthways and then slice, that should work.”
“How come you know so much about cooking?” Dev asked.
Ewan shrugged. “I always enjoyed it. I like food, so I was interested in making my own. My mum and dad encouraged me. By the time I was fourteen or fifteen, I was cooking for the family a couple of times a week at least.” He peered over Dev’s shoulder. “That’s perfect.”
As Ewan put a hand on his hip, Dev jumped and the knife slipped, narrowly missing his fingers. “Shit. That was close.”
“Sorry.” Ewan’s voice was warm, but he squeezed Dev’s hip lightly and didn’t take his hand away. “I shouldn’t distract the chef.”
“Aren’t you the chef?” The hand was distracting Dev. He bit his lip and focused on cutting another careful slice of meat.
“I guess. What does that make you, then?”
“Your bitch?”
Ewan snorted in surprise and amusement. “I was thinking more along the lines of sous chef, or kitchen hand. But my bitch works too.” He lowered his voice and added, “I quite enjoy giving you orders.”
A frisson of heat rippled through Dev at the husky quality in Ewan’s voice. He gripped the knife more tightly. Ewan was right up close behind him now, caging Dev in against the kitchen counter. “I like that too,” Dev whispered.
He froze, the cooking forgotten. He wanted to turn around and kiss Ewan, but he wasn’t brave enough. Ewan’s breath was warm on the back of his neck and Dev’s heart thundered in his ears.
The kitchen door opened in a burst of female chatter that cut off abruptly in a surprised “Oh!”
Ewan backed off, leaving Dev breathless and frustrated.
“Hi, Ewan. Who’s your friend?”
Dev turned to see a pretty girl with long dark hair and brown skin, flanked by another girl with a brown bob and a sweet smile.