Page 25 of Falling for Cocky Cole
"I didn't—" I start to protest, but catch myself. "I was just confused. Needed some time to think."
"Well, this dinner is the perfect chance for the three of us to talk things over," Cole says, something unreadable in his expression.
Talk what over, exactly? I want to ask, but instead I find myself following him into the dining area, where the sight before me momentarily silences my questions.
The last time when I was here, the dining room was practical and simple. But today, the brothers have transformed it into something from a magazine spread. A crisp white tablecloth covers the oak surface of the dining table, with three place settings arranged with actual cloth napkins. Candles flicker in the center, surrounding a small arrangement of wildflowers that I recognize from the meadow behind their property. The overhead light has been dimmed, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.
"You guys did all this?" I ask, genuinely touched by the effort.
"Caleb did most of it," Cole admits. "He learned it from our mom."
From the kitchen, Caleb calls out, "Five more minutes on the rosemary bread!"
Cole pulls out a chair for me, and I sit, still trying to process the unexpected turn of events. There's something intimate about the setting, despite—or perhaps because of—the presence of bothbrothers. I watch as Cole pours red wine into crystal glasses that I suspect aren't regular features of the Carter household.
"These were our parents'," he explains, catching my look. "Caleb thought we should use the good stuff."
Caleb emerges from the kitchen carrying a large serving dish of ravioli, the scent of mushrooms, butter, and herbs wafting ahead of him. He sets it down with a flourish.
"Mushroom ravioli with brown butter sage sauce," he announces, the formal presentation at odds with his usual easygoing manner. "And roasted asparagus with lemon."
Cole brings in a basket of rosemary bread that makes my mouth water instantly, and then they both take their seats—Caleb across from me, Cole to my right.
"This looks amazing," I say truthfully, suddenly aware of how hungry I am.
"Taste it before you get too impressed," Caleb says with a self-deprecating smile.
I spear a ravioli with my fork and take a bite. The pasta is perfectly al dente, the filling rich with earthy mushrooms and just enough cheese. The brown butter sauce adds a nutty depth, fragrant with fresh sage. I close my eyes involuntarily at the first taste.
"Oh my god," I murmur after swallowing. "This is incredible."
Both brothers look pleased, though Caleb's smile is tinged with relief. We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the earlier awkwardness receding as we focus on the food. The wine is good too—a smooth red that pairs perfectly with the richness of the dish.
"So," I say finally, feeling more at ease, "which one of you is the cook in the family? Because this isn't amateur work."
"Caleb," Cole says immediately. "I'm still learning.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re the only one who doesn’t cook,” I tease him. “Emily always brags about thebestest pancakes in the whole worldher dad makes.”
Cole shrugs. “Grant couldn't boil water until he became a single dad."
"That's not true," Caleb protests with a chuckle.
Cole ignores his brother and turns to me. "You know why Caleb is such a good cook?"
Something in his tone makes me pause, fork halfway to my mouth. "Why?"
"It's because apparently some girl he cared about made a wish to marry a chef." Cole's eyes dance with mischief as Caleb nearly chokes on his wine.
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite myself. "Really? I wonder who that lucky girl is," I ask, although I have a vague idea who it is. It’s probably the girl named Ashley. Caleb had a crush on her back in fifth grade, and Ben always teased him about her.
Caleb chuckles, but there's a flush rising from his neck that has nothing to do with the wine. "Ignore him. He likes to embellish."
But there's something in the way he avoids my eyes, focusing intently on cutting his asparagus into perfectly even pieces, that makes me think Cole isn't embellishing at all. I look between them, sensing an undercurrent I can't quite decode.
14
CALEB
