He'd planned to sleep late in the morning and then have lunch with a friend and his wife who lived in the area. But, if Tory was going to join him for dinner, he'd need to visit the grocery store, because he didn't have much at home except for prepackaged meals that went in the microwave.
“Six?”
“Works for me,” Tory answered with no hesitation.
“Is there anything you won't eat?”
His younger sister constantly changed what foods she would or wouldn't eat. About two years ago, she'd gone through a vegetarian stage before deciding it wasn't for her and becoming a pescatarian. Seven or eight months ago, she'd given that up and adopted a keto lifestyle. For all he knew, Tory might be a vegan. He didn't want to go through the work of making something she wouldn't eat.
“I'm not picky, but I can't eat mushrooms. I'm allergic to them.”
Cooking for someone was so much easier when they weren't picky. “Okay, then I'll see you at six. I'm on the fourth floor in condo 4A.”
FOUR
Thanks to his parents'efforts, Duncan could cook, repair anything in the house that might break, garden with the best of them, and sew. These days, cooking was the only skill from the list he used, and he only did it sometimes. But maybe he would start doing it more often.
He'd hated every second of food shopping. Duncan could handle a busy store and even toddlers throwing tantrums in the middle of the produce section, but he couldn't stand inconsiderate people. Today it'd been as if every jerk in Boston had decided to go food shopping. But once he returned home and started the prep work, enjoyment replaced his annoyance. It'd been so long since he prepared anything more complicated than pasta with store-bought sauce that he'd forgotten how much he enjoyed cooking.
Tonight he'd decided to prepare pesto chicken bruschetta. It was a dish he'd learned from his dad, who cooked as well as, if not better than, his mom—not that anyone in the family would ever say that. And like when Dad served it, Duncan made the pesto rather than bought it. He picked up dessert and the dinner rolls at the bakery because, although he cut lunch with his friends short, he returned to the city later than he'd hoped. Not to mention, unlike his sister, Duncan didn't enjoy baking.
His cell phone beeped as he read the meat thermometer he'd stuck into a chicken breast.
One hundred and sixty degrees. It was almost done, which was a good thing because he expected Tory in a few minutes.
Grabbing the device off the counter, it did not surprise him to find a text from his cousin. Considering Alec's announcement before walking away last night and then seeing the two of them on the hotel terrace, he'd been expecting one from Gianna all day.
Alec asked me to marry him last night.
He'd have to tell Tory he'd been correct.
And you said no, I hope. I'm not sure he's the type of person we want in the family.
He'd been born three months after Gianna, and he'd always considered her more a sister than a cousin. And like any sibling, he gave her a hard time whenever an occasion presented itself. This was undoubtedly one of those times.
It didn't take long for Gianna to reply.
Funny, your sister says the same thing about you all the time.
Although he didn't consciously set out to do it, he often found himself being the overprotective older brother. Rather than being thankful that he cared, Harper usually got pissed at him. Although, in his defense, Harper was eleven years younger than him, and sometimes he found it difficult to see her as anything but the four-year-old who used to walk around dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz while carrying their cat Peanut—because their dog was too large—in a basket.
She probably says worse.
A shrugging emoji appeared on his screen before Gianna's next text.
I said yes.
Congratulations. I'm happy for you.
He was happy for Alec too, and later he'd reach out to congratulate him.
When are you coming to the island again?
He'd hoped to get there sometime before Thanksgiving. But he wasn't sure that would happen now.
Not sure. I'll let you know.
No sooner did he type the message than his doorbell rang.