Page 58 of A Cowboy's Trust
“Sorry. I meant right now, in the kitchen, considering how often you used to ask me to cook for you. Not because I don’t think you’re capable, but past history says something different than what the amazing scent in this room says.”
He finished tossing the salad and put the bowl on the already set two-man table strategically placed to separate the kitchen from the living room. He didn’t answer as he pulled the meatloaf out and placed it on a hot pad to rest for a few minutes.
Tansy approved, of course.
A moment later, Jake pulled out a chair for her. She sat, breathing deeply as he stroked his hands over her shoulders in a gentle caress.
By the time he sat in the chair kitty-corner to her, she had a plate full of food and a glass of red wine in front of her. “It looks delicious.”
It truly did. The salad had all sorts of extra vegetables including crisp red peppers and the teeniest perfect curls of carrot. The meatloaf had crumbling caramelized corners and a savory juice pooling next to a mound of whipped potatoes.
Jake lifted his glass. “To women who know how to cook.”
Tansy clinked her glass with his. “You’re sweet.”
They both dug in. Tansy nearly moaned as the meatloaf hit her tongue. The buttery richness of the mashed potatoes mixed perfectly with it, and she shook her head as she stared over at Jake. “I need your recipe.”
He raised a brow. “A high compliment indeed.”
“The highest.” Tansy hesitated then decided to hell with it. She wanted to know more. She wanted more of this sensation of finding out exactly what it was that made Jake tick. “You said it’s your mom’s?”
Jake laid his fork on the table and leaned back slightly, wine glass in hand. He stared into the deep burgundy depths and answered slowly. “My mom was a great cook. Simple stuff, usually, because that’s what we could afford. And that’s what she had time for, especially after our dad was no longer in the picture. Single moms don’t do a lot of fancy cooking.”
“I imagine they don’t. Not moms with three boys who could demolish everything she put in front of them and then some.”
Jake laughed, placing his glass on the table. “There was always bread and butter to help fill us up, but Mom liked making different things for us to try. Even if it was just a new type of salsa to go on top of whatever meat we had that day. Declan didn’t care what he ate as long as it was enough until the next meal. Aidan happily shoveled anything down, but cooking was something I did with my mom.”
Tansy laid her hand on his thigh. “That must have made it even harder when you lost her.”
He nodded. He hesitated for a moment then swallowed hard, speaking slowly as if making a confession. “When she died, I went on a hunger strike for a while. Not because I was protesting anything, but because everything they put in front of me reminded me of her. I just couldn’t swallow.”
God. Tansy squeezed lightly. “That makes total sense.”
Jake met her gaze, linking their fingers. “I hated cooking after that. Would do just about anything I could to avoid it.”
“Including hiring me when it was your turn to feed the family?”
“That was part of the reason,” he admitted. He lifted his free hand and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “The other reason was because there’s something about you I just couldn’t seem to stay away from.”
Bubbles in her belly, lightning in her blood. The food still smelled wonderful but there was something that Tansy craved more. “Can we dance? If I’m not interrupting your perfect plans too much.”
Jake rose to his feet, bringing her with him. “I’m working on my spontaneity, remember?”
He got music started, and as a slow ballad crooned in the background, he pulled her into his arms, dancing in the three by three space between his dining room table in the back of the couch. A slow rocking dance with them pressed tight to each other.
Tansy rested her cheek on his shoulder and savoured the closeness.
“There’s a moment when life changes,” she said. Screwing up her courage, willing herself to let him see a bit more of her truth as well. “Sometimes it’s from the good to the bad, like losing your mom. Sometimes it’s from the bad to the good. It’s as if you can remember every single detail of that one moment in time, like a snapshot that’s completely three dimensional. That’s what it felt like when I met the Fields family. When Mom and Dad picked me up and brought me home and there was Rose, and Ivy, and Fern. Suddenly it didn’t matter how bad my world had been before, this was everything good. I had a hard time believing it was real.”
Jake brushed his hand up and down the middle of her back, dancing her slowly as the music pulsed in the background. “You’ve said before that they’re pretty perfect as a family.”
“They were a miracle. Still are,” Tansy admitted. “Sometimes I can’t believe that I’m worthy of being loved as much as I am.”
They danced in silence for a minute, Jake’s strong arms around her, his fingers tight with hers. Then he eased back and lifted her chin toward him. “Your dad called and asked me over. After the wedding.”
Tansy didn’t resist rolling her eyes, not even for a second. “Of course, he did.”
“You’re not mad?”
