Page 96 of Wicked Love

Bowie clears his throat. “Maybe the real secret ingredient is compromise?”

My lips twitch.

“Compromise?” Paulina echoes. “You mean cook the mirepoix first, then add the meat?—”

“And then let it all simmer together until the flavors marry,” Mrs. McGregor finishes, as if suddenly enlightened.

They both pause, eyeing each other warily, then simultaneously nod.

“I suppose that might result in a decent sauce,” Paulina concedes. “Mrs. McGregor, would you like to be the one to add the wine?”

“Very well,” she says. She gets the corkscrew out, tosses it in the air, catches it, and then grins at us.

I let out a loud laugh and Bowie starts laughing too. The women look at us in curiosity, like they have no idea the entertainment they’re putting out there.

“Dinner here is never dull, I see,” I whisper to Bowie.

“You have no idea.”

Once the wine is added, I lean closer to the stove. “Smells perfect to me,” I say softly.

Both women look pleased with the compliment.

“We’ll see, dear,” Paulina says, patting my arm. “Nothingwrong with a bit of spirited debate in the name of good Bolognese.”

“My Bolognese was fine without the debate, but I guess you’re right,” Mrs. McGregor says.

“Why settle with fine when you can have splendid?” Paulina tilts her head and Mrs. McGregor groans.

Bowie laughs. “Okay, ladies. Thank you.”

Becca bursts through the kitchen with Martha on her heels and freezes when she sees me. And then she’s rushing toward me. “Poppy!”

I love the way she always says my name with such joy.

“Hi, Becca!”

“Why are you here?” she asks happily.

“I’m…having dinner.” I look at Bowie, uncertain what to say.

“I love dinner!” Becca throws her fist in the air.

“Me too.” I laugh.

Bowie leans in to whisper. “Sorry, I thought this was going to be a quieter affair with maybe the three of us, but looks like there might be five or six.”

“It’s totally fine. I’m having fun,” I tell him.

He grins at me and puts his hand on my cheek. For a second, I think he might kiss me, but he doesn’t.

Becca looks at us and beams. “Poppy, you marry my dad like Tru and Henley?” she asks. “And Elle and Rhodes and Sadie and Weston?”

My mouth drops. “Uh. I?—”

“First things first, Becca,” Bowie says.

I expect him to be terrified by Becca trying to marry us off, but his look is teasing when he looks at me and scrunches up his face.

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