“You mean you are going to your room? But I thought…” This time, it was Cara’s turn to blush.
Jericho didn’t even turn around. The arrogant jerk that he was simply kept walking out of the room as he called back, “Until you can figure out a way to keep prying eyes away from my bare ass, our show has been cancelled.”
* * *
Jericho woke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon, and unless his twitching nose was mistaken, he also sniffed the odor of biscuits. He was thirty-five years old and had never awakened to the smell of a cooking breakfast.
He pulled a soft pillow over his face, blocking out the smells. The inept girl was probably getting ready to burn down his cabin. The food couldn’t possibly taste as good as it smelled. She was taking over his cabin as if she were going to be staying, as if she belonged. He was going to set her straight … right after he tried her breakfast.
Cara fumbled with the frying pan, wincing as the popping grease struck her hands. The cooking show hadn’t shown that there was going to be popping grease. If they were going to give a cooking demonstration, they should at least be accurate, especially if it involved the possibility of pain.
The pan slid crazily as she tried to maneuver it off the hot burner.
“Darn it!”
“Having problems?”
Cara looked up to find Jericho standing in the doorway.
He had expected a mess, to see flour strewn everywhere and burnt food. Instead, the table had a platter of biscuits waiting, a heaping bowl of scrambled eggs, and the bacon was sitting on the counter. She had also set the table with plates and silverware. Beside each plate sat a glass of orange juice. Jericho felt his throat tightening.
“How did you do all this?”
Cara gave him a cheeky grin. “Did you know there is a TV channel that shows you how to cook?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Cara smiled at him. “Have a seat. It’s all ready.”
Although he could see the flush of accomplishment on her pretty face, there was no way he was going to sit at that table.
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” He turned to leave the kitchen.
“I don’t understand.” The smile was leaving her face, and hurt was entering her eyes. “You have to be hungry since you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“When I get hungry, I’ll fix myself a sandwich.”
“So it’s because I fixed this food that you don’t want it?”
Cara’s confusion had Jericho almost relenting until his eyes found the small glass of flowers she had set on the table.
Angry, Jericho pointed to the table. “Why did you do all this?”
Her confusion deepened as he took a step back from the table.
Cara stared at the table that was making him so angry. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“No, that’s not why you did it.” He looked at her with fury in his eyes. “You are trying to make more out of this than there is.”
“More out of what?”
“Us … what you may believe happened yesterday in the cave. You are trying to find a place here as if you’re going to stay, as if you think we are a couple now with all the happily ever after bullshit.”
“And my cooking breakfast says all that?” Cara watched as he nodded his head.
She turned off the stove and moved toward him, noticing how his eyes slid down her body. She hadn’t bothered to dress. Her body finally seemed to have become acclimated to the environment, and she had simply cooked in the T-shirt she had put on to sleep in. The thin, white shirt only came to the tops of her thighs and showed she wore no underwear.
He took a step back as she stalked toward him.