Page 26 of The Great Maple Mistake

With slightly shaky nerves, I stare at Cody’s front door. I’m not sure why I’m nervous. Our first date was a lot of fun, and we had so much to talk about. He was sweet, attentive, and the kissing was incendiary. This is just another date. It’ll go well too. Because why wouldn’t it? Giving myself a mental kick in the pants, I pull my shoulders back, and stride confidently up the walk. The house is an old Victorian-style, with big pillars supporting the wraparound porch roof and old dormer windows at the top. It’s beautifully maintained, and the lawn is well tended, which is typical for a property in Maplewood.

Clutching the bottle of red that I brought, because my mother drilled into us that you never go to someone’s house for dinner or a party empty-handed, I climb the few steps to the front door and ring the doorbell. Though someone probably is aware that I’m here. They have one of those camera doorbells that are so popular now.

“Hi, Alex.” Viv’s voice comes through the speaker loud and clear. “Cody’s on his way to let you in.”

Before I can say thanks, the front door swings in, and my stomach swoops. Cody looks edible in a baby-blue, short-sleeved T-shirt that hugs every well-defined muscle in his upper body. My gaze drifts down his torso and stutters to a halt at his hips and thighs because oh dear god, his thighs. They’re thick and muscular and exquisitely encased in medium wash denim. And please, god, I hope he precedes me inside because I need to see his ass in those jeans. Truly. I might die if I don’t. I wouldn’t complain about seeing it out of those jeans either. When I drag my gaze back up to Cody’s face, he’s grinning, though his cheeks are a little bit pink. “Hey. Good to see you.” He leans in and takes my hand, kissing my cheek. “You look amazing.”

I quickly glance down at my own denim-clad legs and gray, short-sleeved Henley T-shirt and shake my head. “Not like you do. You look”—I trail off as I take him in again. God, he’s mouthwateringly gorgeous—“wow!”

He laughs and gently tugs me into the house. “Come in and say hello to Aunt Viv.”

“Hi, Alex!” Viv shouts from another room. I follow Cody, completely checking out his incredible ass, and I was right. It looks spectacular. He leads me into the kitchen, and I drag my eyes from his ass, only to stop in my tracks. I try not to stare. Really. But I’m not sure I succeed. There are cows everywhere. Not real cows, obviously, but wow. Cows on hand towels. Cows on placemats. A cow clock, and a cow rug in front of the sink. There’s even a little cow dish scrubber. I blink a few times and hear Cody’s soft chuckle. He leans in and murmurs in my ear. “You get used to it after a bit.”

His lips brush against the fine hairs on my cheek, and his warm breath sends shivers along my skin. The wine bottle knocks against my leg, and I realize I haven’t said hello to Viv or given her the wine I brought. “Sorry! I’m being rude.” I walk to Viv and hold out the wine. “Hi. Thanks for inviting me todinner.” In her usual style, Viv sports a butter-yellow sweater twin set that she’s paired with khaki capris and canvas flats. Her shoulder-length frosted blonde hair is parted down the middle and flips up at the ends, a la some fifties teen movie star. Her purple rhinestone-encrusted glasses would seem a bit much on most people, but Viv pulls it off.

She takes the bottle from me, examining the label. “Oooh, Chianti!” She grins. “No fava beans with dinner, though.”

The movie reference isn’t lost on me, but only because my dad loves Anthony Hopkins and has seen Silence of the Lambs at least a million times. I laugh at her joke because it’s expected, but I’d be fine if I never saw that movie again. Suspense thrillers arenotmy thing. At all. “Don’t feel obligated to open it.”

“Nonsense.” She sets the bottle on the counter and pulls out a waiter’s corkscrew covered with cow print. I try to hide my laugh by clearing my throat. If Viv notices, she pretends not to. “Cody, do you want to do the honors? I’ll get the glasses.” She grins as she passes me on the way to a corner hutch and grabs three of the wine glasses hanging from a metal rack.

Floundering in the middle of the kitchen, I look around. “Is there anything I can do? Something I can help you with?”

Viv sets the glasses next to Cody and pats my arm. “No, hon. I have everything under control. I just have to throw the salad together once the stuffed shells are done cooking.”

My stomach growls in anticipation. “Oh, that’s one of my favorite meals.”

Cody pours the wine, and I choke back another laugh. I hadn’t noticed the etching on the wine glasses, but now that they’re filled with dark red liquid, I can see the cow print, and each one has a different saying. Viv hands me the one that has ‘I’m not in the mooooood’ etched into it. Hers says ‘I’m not amoosed’ and Cody’s has ‘Udderly Fabulous.’ When I risk a glance his way, he winks and raises his glass. “Cheers.”

Viv and I raise ours, and we all take a sip. “Anyway, Cody said you were making pasta with red sauce, but he didn’t say what kind.”

Viv sets her glass down and leans against the counter. “That’s because I hadn’t decided what I wanted to make. I figured as long as I knew it would be pasta and there would be red sauce, I could decide to go simple or fancy once I woke up this morning. And stuffed shells fall somewhere between throwing pasta sauce over boiled cavatelli and making homemade ravioli.”

“I’ll take your word for that because I’m not much of a cook. Icancook, but I mostly do it to survive. Luke, on the other hand, loves to cook. And bake.”

Cody nods. “Whatever he was making the other day smelled amazing.”

Viv sips her wine. “Is he entering the cook-off?”

I nod. “He’s diving into the deep end and entering desserts. He was going to start off in a low-pressure category like hors d’oeuvres but decided to go for it.”

She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Brave of him.”

It really is. “How about you? Are you entering?”

She bobs her head from side to side. “I was thinking about it.” Her lips curve into a mischievous grin. “Maybe I’ll enter the dessert competition and see if I can give Luke a run for his money.”

“You definitely should, Aunt Viv.”

I follow up quickly, hoping the two of us can convince her. “It’s for a good cause. Which reminds me that I wanted to ask you something. I’m helping the firehouse with a fundraiser.”

Viv’s face lights up. “Oooh, yes. Cody told me about it. A firefighter calendar?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Will they be shirtless?” She winks at me, and it’s so much like when Cody did it that it’s disconcerting. Then I wonder if sheknows her nephew will be in the calendar. I shut that thought down quickly because ewww. “Yeah, probably a few. But it’s going to be multi-gendered, and each firefighter will decide how dressed down they want to be. We’re also going to take a page out of the Australian firefighter calendars and bring in animals from around Maplewood.”

“What a great idea!” The timer on the oven goes off, and Viv silences it, then pulls on two cow-patterned oven mitts and opens the oven door. The heavenly scents of hot cheese, pasta, and red sauce roll enticingly into the room, and my stomach growls again. She sets the huge tray of stuffed shells onto the stovetop and flips the oven door closed.

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