Page 47 of A Royal Promise
“Gladly.” She wrapped the apron around her waist, tying it behind her back.
When Bri saw him putting on an apron of his own, she snorted. “The lace is a whole look for you, Drew.”
He propped his hands on his hips with a sassy look on his face. “Why, thank you.” He curtsied to her.
“You’re ridiculous.” She threw a dish towel at him.
He laughed, catching it easily. “Will you turn the oven on to 425°, please?”
She turned it on to preheat while Drew got to work. He moved around her kitchen like a seasoned professional. Within a few minutes, he had the shrimp marinating in a bowl with some tomato sauce, red wine vinegar, basil, salt, and cayenne pepper. Then he moved on to washing potatoes, which he passed to her, along with a cutting board, asking her to quarter them.
“Quarter them?”
Drew moved to stand behind her, placing his hand over hers on the knife. His other hand moved around her to hold a potato. With a fluid motion, they cut the potato and then sliced each of the halves again.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Bri asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“When my parents were at events when I was a teenager and I didn’t need to attend, I would go down to the kitchen, and our head cook would teach me how to make whatever was on the menu that day.”
She felt his breath on her neck, and goosebumps erupted across her skin.I don’t know why my body is having this reaction to my best friend. Maybe I’m still thinking of his abs from the other day.There was no other possible explanation for such a physical reaction to his nearness.
He was a great teacher, but she thought it was a safe bet that his palace’s head chef hadn’t taught him to hold a knife this way.
When he moved back to the other side of the kitchen, she looked up at him from the cutting board in awe. “How is it that we’ve been best friends for so long, and I feel like there are a lot of things I’m still learning about you?”
Drew washed and halved the Brussels sprouts, tossing them into a bowl. “We’ve never hung out this regularly before. I know we’ve always been close, but there’s only so much you can learn in sporadic visits and text conversations.”
He was right. They hadn’t spent this much time together…well, ever. And as confusing as it was, Bri loved hanging out with him. He knew her better than anyone, and they always had fun together, regardless of what they were doing. He was her person. Her forever friend-mate—because she couldn’t use the word soulmate in reference to him, even though that was what he felt like.
Drew knew her soul. He knew every part of her—good and bad—and he still loved her the same.
She looked up at him again to find him smirking at her.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
“Nothing,” she said too quickly.
“I don’t thinknothingwould have you neglecting your potato-cutting duties.” He gestured to her cutting board with his baking sheet of already cut and seasoned Brussels sprouts before putting them into the preheated oven.
When she didn’t respond, he huffed out a laugh, taking the knife from her hand and quartering the remaining potatoes.
“Would you mind getting out a large pot?”
She walked to the cupboard beside the stove and grabbed a stockpot, placing it on the counter beside him. Drew dropped all the potatoes into the pot and filled it with enough water to cover them before seasoning the water with salt and some minced garlic. He placed it on the stove and turned the heat to high before turning back to her.
“We have a little bit of time before we have to do anything else.” He spread his hand out, motioning to all the dirty dishes. “I’ll wash, you dry?”
“Sounds good to me.” She picked up the clean dish towel she’d thrown at him earlier and laid it on her shoulder.
Bri put on a playlist of country music, and they got to work. They moved like a well-oiled machine. As soon as she finished drying a dish and put it away, Drew was ready to hand her another clean dish. They continued like this until the kitchen looked nearly spotless again.
“All right, the potatoes should be done boiling now. I’ll strain them and put them in a bowl. Do you mind mashing them with some butter and milk while I get the shrimp out on the grill?”
“You got it.” She held up the masher he’d left out on the counter. Bri got to work mashing the potatoes he’d placed in front of her.
Bri couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked dinner. It made her appreciate all the time and effort the palace staff put in each day to have food on the table.
She threw in the butter Drew had left out so it had time to melt while the potatoes were still hot. Once she didn’t see any more major lumps, she poured in a splash of milk at a time, mixing as she went.
