Page 140 of Banter & Blushes

“Wasn’t always the case. I learned to cook last year.”

“Last year?”

“My New Year’s resolution was to try one new thing every month.” Her voice grew tentative, as if confessing something she hadn’t intended to share. “I lasted until February.”

“Resolutions are overrated.” He toyed with a piece of bread and looked at her across the table. The candlelight softened the lines of her face, made her seem warmer and more open, the way he wanted to feel about everything. “Trying new things, though…”

“Yeah.” She giggled and frowned all at once. “Not quite my forte.”

He nodded, and something fragile hung between them. It was an unspoken, tentative understanding everything could change in a heartbeat. Neither moved to break it.

“I can see you with a cookbook,” he said, finally. “A binder full of culinary plans.”

“It’s not as bad as you make it seem,” she laughed. “Not quite.” Then she paused, her eyes full of a question she didn’t ask. “What about you?”

“My resolution? Quit the world and stick to it.”

“Yet, here you are. I think I’ve made you break that promise to yourself.”

“You make it sound like I’m disappointed.”

Caroline took a bite of pasta, hiding the flicker of surprise and pleasure. Beck couldn’t tell if it was the food or her triumph at another well-placed jab. “Busted,” she said lightly.

“Do you always have to win, Hollis?”

“Clearly not. I have the mother of all power outages parked in the driveway.”

Beck let out a low, genuine laugh as he reached for a bottle. He busied himself with a drink, then took a swig before Caroline could read the doubt he couldn’t quite hide.

“What about us?” he asked lightly, trying to shake the weight off as he searched past the question in his heart and let himself into the moment. “You think we can survive each other through the summer?”

“I think we’ll pull it off with bonuses and early retirement packages,” she said, taking a sip from her wineglass.

“Bad analogy.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you accepted this project.”

In the far corner, a timer went off. Caroline moved to the kitchen with a mild panic. “Dessert is ready!”

“More?”

“I need to cut the lemon bars while they are at the perfect temperature.”

“You can’t say ‘lemon bars’ and just leave me.”

“Says the man who had a picnic on paper plates,” she said, her voice trailing with amusement.

“Hey, I lit a candle.”

“It was citronella.”

“You liked it.”

“Maybe.” She took out a knife and started cutting the contents in a square baking pan which had been cooling on the counter.

“Careful, Hollis,” he mocked. “I might think you’re falling for me.”

CHAPTER 9

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