“Do you work during the week?”
“I pretty much work in the test kitchen when we aren’t filming, developing new menus for the restaurant, but I’m ahead of the game there,” he said.
She rolled on her side, starting to get sleepy but reluctant to end the call. It had been a long time—maybe forever—since she’d wanted to just keep talking to someone like this. “How do you develop a menu? I’m not even sure I know what that means.”
“Well,” he said, punching the pillow behind his head and sinking down onto it. “I start with seasonal ingredients and then see what they inspire. Right now we’re working on the spring menu for the restaurant. So I call our suppliers and see what they are going to have—some years the crops vary—and then I talk to my partner and the head chef at the restaurant and we work together to come up with dishes.”
“I never realized that cooking was so creative,” she said, her words sleepy. “I’m never going to be able to beat you in a cooking contest.”
“No, you’re not,” he confirmed. “I think I’m putting you to sleep.”
“You’re not. It’s late and I had an exhausting day.” It had started with the surprise of Conrad at the cleanup, then their kiss and the bike ride. Nola’s revelations and then his call. Her mind was too tired to process everything and she knew she needed sleep. But she didn’t want him to go.
“I’ll let you go and get some sleep.”
She smiled at him, touching her phone screen where his mouth was. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers making her mouth tingle. “I’m so glad you called me.”
He looked down at her and gave her that devilish grin of his that sent heat through her entire body.
“I’m glad I did too.”
“Good night, lady,” he said in that low voice that was straight out of her hottest dreams.
“Good night, dear beast.” She realized that no matter how ill-advised it was, she was starting to fall for him.
He disconnected the call and she rolled over on the bed, throwing her arms wide, staring at the ceiling. She liked him. Like really liked him. And he wasn’t at all someone she should. He hated this town. And she’d fallen in love with this place the moment she’d seen it. The buildings were solid just neglected and needed some care and new life to them. This place had made her feel like she’d found home.
Gilbert Corners was her future. It felt like there was no place for the two of them to meet except for the contest, and, well, in lust. Maybe that was what she needed. Actually, sheknewit was. She needed him to help her get past her lingering fears and finally give into to the desires that thinking about Conrad stirred in her.
And that was enough.
That was more than enough, she thought.
Eight
Conrad looked up from his morning coffee as the doorbell rang at his home in New York City. A few moments later, Dash came into the kitchen.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” Conrad said as he watched his cousin make himself a cup of coffee before sitting down across from him. Dash took a section of the newspaper that Conrad always had delivered and started reading it.
“Am I supposed to ask why you’re here?” Conrad asked after a few more minutes had passed.
Dash didn’t answer but put the newspaper down. “No. Can we pretend that this is normal?”
“No.”
“Rory’s doctor is retiring,” Dash said, drumming his fingers on the table.
“You said.”
“Well I tried to influence the board to hire a specialist I found who I think might actually help her come out of the coma, but they weren’t receptive.”
“Can’t you move her to wherever the specialist is?”
“He’s in Sweden, so it’s not ideal for me to continue to see her,” Dash said. “And he won’t come just to be Rory’s doctor.”
“Want me to try to convince them?” Conrad asked, putting his own paper down and sitting up taller.