“Congratulations. I hope you get good marks.” While Megan didn’t know exactly what was involved in writing a thesis because she’d never been academically inclined, she knew it wasn’t easy.
“Oh, I’m not at the results stage yet. My supervisor is reading over it to give me feedback, but thanks. In some ways, this part is even more unnerving because she’s completely ruthless if she doesn’t think something is up to scratch.”
Megan nibbled on a crust slathered in honey. “Well, in that case, I hope she thinks it’s brilliant.”
“Thanks, me too. Anyway,” Brooke breezed on, her sky blue eyes twinkling and her peach-colored lips tilting up, “I wanted to celebrate the milestone, so Kat and I are having a movie night in her apartment. We’d love it if you joined us.”
Hope fluttered in Megan’s belly. She hadn’t spent time with girlfriends in ages, and hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it. “Really? I don’t want to intrude.”
Brooke waved a hand, dismissing her concern. “You wouldn’t be intruding at all. The more the merrier. If you want to bring some snacks, so much the better.”
“Great, I will. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re so welcome.” Brooke stood, told her what time to be there, said farewell, and wandered off, teacup in hand. Megan finished her crust, watching the other guests—a couple of families and a pair of Chinese women—and hurried back to the kitchen, already skimming through possibilities for goodies to bring to the movie night.
* * *
Tione was sittingoutside the kitchen’s fire escape, petting Bella, when he heard footsteps behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Megan had returned.
“Do you mind if I do some baking between meals?” She wrung her hands as she spoke, her eyes wide and excited.
“Go for it.” He stood, brushed off a shower of dog fur, and tossed a tennis ball for Bella, who rushed after it. “What’s up?”
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, twisting the pink cotton between her fingers. “Brooke invited me to a movie night. I want to bring brownies, and maybe something else, too. I’m still thinking about it.”
“No problem. We’ve got brownie ingredients in the cupboards.” Bella dropped the ball at his feet and he threw it again. This time, Zee gave chase, too. Stepping inside, he closed the door. The dogs could keep each other occupied for hours. Megan, on the other hand, seemed incapable of holding her hands still.
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
She giggled, and it carried on for a little too long. “Maybe. I want them to like me.” She stared at her hands, like it embarrassed her to admit this. “I haven’t spent time with any women who weren’t family for ages.”
Taking her gently by the shoulders, he looked into her gorgeous amber eyes. Immediately, her whole body stiffened, but she didn’t seem afraid, just wary. She was so soft beneath his fingers that he felt like he could crush her, but instead he had to stop his hands from automatically smoothing down her arms and wrapping around her waist.
“They already like you,” he said. “So quit worrying.”
“Okay.” Was it his imagination, or did she sound breathy? “Thanks, Tee.”
He dropped his hands from her and backed away, leaning against the door frame, grateful for its support. “Do you need a hand with the brownies?”
She drew in a shaky breath. Had she been as affected by their touch as he had?
“No, I’ve got them under control. You go and do whatever you usually do at this time. Everything is sorted in here.”
“There’s nothing in particular I usually do around now.” Not entirely true. He often ran the dogs along the beach, but they wouldn’t be too upset if he delayed their run until the afternoon. For one thing, it was more likely they’d encounter other dogs to play with. “Tell you what. I’ll be your kitchen boy if you let me steal a couple of brownies when they’re done.”
The smile that spread across her face was worth rescheduling a dozen running sessions. She stuck out her hand, and he shook it. “Deal.”
Brushing past her, he headed to the sink and washed his hands. “What do you want me to do?”
A subtle change came over her. Her spine straightened, her expression smoothed, and her hands ceased moving. She’d assumed control.
“Get out the ingredients, a baking tray—no, make that two—and start a saucepan heating on the stove. I’m going to check out the pantry and see what else I might be able to make.”
He saluted. “Yes, chef.”
While she searched the pantry, he placed ingredients on the counter. Butter. Cocoa. Sugar. Eggs. Flour. Baking powder. By the time he’d finished and set the saucepan on the stove, she’d added to the assorted ingredients. He watched while she separated a portion of butter without using any measuring device and added it to the pan. Then she piled cocoa and sugar into a bowl and cracked eggs into another.
“When the butter is melted, mix in the cocoa and sugar, then remove it from the heat and slowly add the eggs.”