Page 14 of A Not So Merry Ex-Mas

I give it all a nice stir until everything is mixed well. Next, I head over to the sink for the potatoes to get them started while I wait for the paste to caramelize.

I can hear the searing of the vegetables and stir them again. The tomato paste is nice and dark but not burned. I pick up the plate and add the beef to the mixture, giving it one last stir to ensure nothing is sticking. Lastly, I add in the broth, red wine and herbs.

I turn up the heat, continue to stir occasionally to keep anything from sticking, and wait for the stew to boil.

When the liquid bubbles up, I lower the flame and place a cover on the Dutch oven. The final step, before adding the potatoes, is to let it simmer for the next thirty to forty minutes or until the beef is tender.

I set a timer and head into the living room to check on the fireplace. The flames are low so I stoke them a bit before adding a few more logs. When I’m satisfied that everything looks good, I head to the couch and sit down.

My eyes glaze as I watch fire roar back to life.

I jump as abeeping noise startles me. I rub my eyes trying to remember where I am when the savory scent of stew hits me.

I stand up and roll the tightness from my neck as I walk back to the kitchen. Falling asleep wasn’t what I meant to do when I sat down, but it’s not surprising. It’s been a long day.

I spent a few hours chopping wood to ensure that we have more than enough to keep the fireplace blazing. Then after talking to Mike, I went out and filled the generator with gas and did a quick check to make sure that it would work if we needed it.

Besides the physical labor, the cold drained me.

I get into the kitchen and hit the stop button, turning off the incessant beep.

I pull the oven mitt off the hook on the wall before lifting the cover off the Dutch oven. I groan. My mouth waters as the heavenly smell of stew hits me. I dip the wooden spoon into the concoction and blow on it before letting the sauce hit my tongue.

My eyes roll into the back of my head as the savory flavors burst on my tongue. I grab the cutting board and drop the potatoes in, giving a nice stir to mix everything together before placing the cover back on and setting the alarm for another fifteen minutes.

I grab a bottle of water and chug it. If my nerves hadn’t been so on edge with Noelle being here, I probably wouldn’t be dehydrated.

I grab another bottle and do the same. I'm already feeling better.

I hear a door creak open and my heart stops. When I don’t hear any footsteps I stick my head through the kitchen entryway and look down the hallway.

Noelle is standing there with her arms spread out, fingertips skimming the wall, and one foot in the air as she tries to quietly make her way down the hallway.

“Hungry?” I ask, and watch her jump two feet in the air with her eyes wide open at the sound of my voice. I press my lips together to keep in the smile wanting to break free as she places her hand on her chest. “Stew will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not hungry.” She glares at me just as her stomach growls so loud she’s likely to wake any nearby bears from hibernation. I quirk a brow at her, and she crosses her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Well if you do get hungry…” I smirk and pull my body back into the kitchen, “Stew will be ready soon.”

I open the cabinet door, grab two bowls and place them on the table. The corner of my lips lift, my heart thuds against my ribcage and any lingering sleepiness from my nap evaporates.

Chapter Seven

Noelle

I hate that man.

My jaw clenches just as my stomach rumbles.If only my anger were enough for me to survive, but as my stomach just let the entire world know, it’s not.

The last hour sitting in my room surrounded by the delicious smells from the kitchen had my mouth watering. And my stomach rumbling. The popcorn did little to quell the hunger pains plaguing me.

I silently stomp my foot.

Dang him! Stew is my favorite, and he knows it. He did this on purpose.

I hear Cole tinkering in the kitchen and can’t help but wonder when he became so domestic.The man I knew enjoyed cookingwith me,but otherwise, he was all about baseball.

I would die before I admitted this to anyone, but I almost reached out to him when he got injured. All of the news outlets in Florida were talking about how Cole had a freak injury that would likely end his pitching career.

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