Page 86 of The Love Lie
“Twenty minutes by helicopter.”
“That’s—that’s—” She short-circuits, eyes twitching as her words fail her. Her jaw drops to the floor.
He lifts it gently with his finger. “I mean, my old man has a cook, but then I’d have to go over there and eat with him, so it’s just easier to make it myself. Frozen pizza only gets you so far.”
“Frozen…” She blinks rapidly. “You don’t even have a pizza place?”
“None that deliver.”
“Tacos?”
“In town.”
“Sushi?”
“Never tried it.”
“Ramen?”
He furrows his brow. “Like Cup Noodles?”
“Oh dear god.” She digs her fingers into his arm. “Please tell me there’s at least a Starbucks.”
“About two hours in the other direction.”
She gasps like a dying fish sucking air.
“You all right there, Cuj?”
“Yeah.” She wheezes, then coughs to clear her throat. Before she meets his eyes, she takes a big swill of wine. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this life, Cooper.”
“I can make you a latte, Sam.”
“What about dim sum? Can you make that?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “As soon as you tell me what the hell it is.”
“Cooper—”
He takes her by the shoulders to spin her toward the bathroom. “Get out of here.”
“But, Cooper—”
“Go.”
She stumbles forward and he shakes his head in amusement as he watches her leave. It’s only as he opens the fridge that what she said registers—I don’t think I’m cut out for this life—with those words and that phrasing, as if there’d been an earlier point in time when she’d thought, even for a moment, that maybe she was.
He grins and grabs the steaks.
By the time she returns from the bathroom, both are seasoned, the potatoes are in the oven, and he’s just about done chopping the vegetables for the salad. “For a second, I was worried you fell in.”
“Ha. Ha,” she replies as she jumps back onto the countertop and plucks a cherry tomato from the bowl. “I got distracted.”
“By…?”
“Everything.”
He rolls his eyes while she tries to hide that mischievous grin behind a sip of wine. “What?”
