“There’s a bathroom through that door if you want to wash up. The kitchen is down to the left. I’m going to go use the master bath.”
He didn’t say anything, but she already knew he wasn’t chatty. She was curious to see what he thought of her place, but also to learn more about him. He’d mentioned his grandfather, and given that local lore held that it was theGilbertcurse, maybe the surly old man was responsible for everyone feeling that way.
She liked Conrad, and there was something about him that she trusted. But at the same time, she sensed the danger in him.
She needed to be cautious. She didn’t think he’d harm her, but she knew herself, and there was a very real risk that she’d let herself fall for him. And Conrad Gilbert wasn’t the kind of man who wanted women falling for him.
She would do well to remember that. But when she came into the kitchen and found him already assembling ingredients for their lunch, she knew it was going to be harder than she planned.
Five
Her kitchen hadn’t been renovated but had a working stove top, which was all he needed. He decided he’d make her some lunch before they left. He had been rude, but that didn’t bother him. He knew most people expected him to be—either because he was born with the proverbial silver spoon, or they knew that his moniker of Beast wasn’t just a cute marketing one.
But he’d seen real hurt in her eyes and...
He wasn’t going to delve deeper than that.
It was safe to say that Indy had horrible eating habits. He found a forgotten stick of butter in the back of a drawer, along with a block of cheddar cheese and generic store brand white bread. Her cabinets revealed no seasonings to speak of, but he found some salt and pepper packets from a local take-out place in a drawer.
“What are you doing?”
“Making lunch,” he said.
“Oh well thanks. I am sorry I trapped you into coming today. I just...no excuses, sometimes my mouth just goes off without warning,” she said with a grin that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both naked.
He looked back to the kitchen counter. She’d had an underripe tomato and some wilted lettuce in her fridge. Along with leftovers of some rotisserie chicken.
“Chicken salad or grilled cheese?”
“I don’t have any mayo,” she said.
“Of course you don’t. What were you planning to serve me?”
“Subs from Jacob’s Deli. They deliver.”
He said nothing, just continued going through her pantry and fridge until he had assembled everything he thought he could use. She pulled out one of the stools, sat at the breakfast counter and watched him.
He forgot that he was in Gilbert Corners and focused only on Indy. He wanted to impress her. He admired the work she’d done on her house, and the way that she’d used her determination and kindheartedness to rally the community to make improvements. He remembered the town, and it had taken more than the money that Dash and he had allocated to get them motivated to clean up the park.
He guessed it was all down to her.
“Have you ever done that cooking show where they only give you a few ingredients?” she asked.
“No, I’m not that kind of chef.”
“What kind are you?” she asked. “You don’t have a restaurant, do you?”
“Not anymore.”
“So you had one?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Ugh. Are you seriously going to just answer everything with one word?”
“Probably.”
“The next time you do that you have to...”