“Right. Well, that’s probably my fault. I didn’t offer you water or anything.”
“You did. When you saved me from the ditch.” She faced him and smiled softly. “You’re a hell of a guy.”
He smirked. “I’ll try not to let that go to my head. You want some wine? I was planning to open a Malbec to pair with the venison.”
“That sounds great. I feel bad that you’re going to all this trouble.”
“I have to eat, too.” He winked.
And oh, God, what that did to her nerve endings! Every single one went haywire. Stealing her breath.
No, he likely hadn’t been flirting with her. He’d just made a casual remark and followed it up with a casual facial expression.
Nothing to read into there, Scarlet.
Except that she felt the electric current arcing between them. Wanted to bend into it like a reed in the wind.
Wanted to fall into it, to be more precise. Let it capture her, tangle her up. Consume her. Until she lost herself in the moment the way she had with Michael.
That was something she’d never imagined experiencing, had never come even remotely close to experiencing. And while she would concede that it was a trifle terrifying to step away from a reality she’d always clung to, the fantasy of releasing the tether on her tightly contained emotions had led to one seriously amazing night with a man who’d known exactly how to give her everything she’d needed.
Those trusty gut instincts of hers told Scarlet that Sam Reed was as intuitive as his stepbrother when it came to satisfying a woman.
That naughty thought chased away the sentimentality that had crept in on her. She tossed the tissue and picked up where she’d left off with the portabellas.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted that Sam still studied her closely, trying to read her. Then he gave up and crossed to the rustic six-foot-long, two-foot-wide riddling racks mounted to the wall separating the kitchen from the great room, which featured double-story, asymmetrically cut windows overlooking the property and another gorgeous fireplace centered between them.
He selected a bottle of wine and uncorked it at the island. Poured two glasses and handed one to Scarlet.
They clinked rims and said, “Cheers,” at the same time.
She took a sip and nodded her approval. “Very nice.”
After a long drink, Sam set his glass aside and collected the green beans from the veggie basket. He prepped the sauté pan, then tossed in the beans. Meanwhile, Scarlet chopped some fresh parsley to go with the mushrooms.
Five minutes passed with a comfortable silence lingering in the air. Scarlet had more questions for him, of course. But for the moment, she absorbed the crackle of the fire and in the atmosphere.
Sam removed the beans from the heat and dumped them into a serving bowl. Then he shaved almonds before sliding them into the pan to toast. When they were ready, he also added them to the bowl. Last, he sliced an onion and started to caramelize the strips.
Scarlet asked, “Anything else you need?”
“Chopped thyme, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll give the onions a good twenty minutes and then mix them with the beans, almonds, and thyme and finish cooking them all together.”
She went back to work. Then sipped some more.
The aroma of the venison roast and the onions filled the vast room. The puppy took interest in the new scents and rounded the island, sniffing the air.
Scarlet grinned. “Maybe starting him on dog food could take a backseat to a little human food. Can I give him some carrots?”
“Sure.”
She made chunks small enough for easy chomping and then knelt before the curious camper and held her palm out. He did more sniffing, then started to nibble.
“He really likes you,” Sam said.